AUDEAMUS
Chapter 26
The smoke was everywhere. It appeared more as a battlefield, where muskets and pistols had been fired, rather than the peaceful Hayes she had grown up in. His gasping breath hit her face as she searched his shaking body in the relentless chill of the night.
Bella had yet to find a wound but tried desperately to keep Edward awake. She had never seen him so frail, so broken down. Cullen was the very image of strength and resilience. To see him crumpled in a corner had her mind spinning.
It was hard to breathe, her lungs worked twice as much as she almost gasped in between breaths. His eyes flickered to something behind her, the previous dullness subsiding as he grew alert and tried in vain to lean forward, only to let out a loud wince as his left hand went to his right side.
"Keep still," she begged in a trembling voice.
Bella turned around, placing her body in front of Edward's once she realized someone was approaching them. "Who goes there!" she urged, pressing her back further into him, willing for him to be invisible.
The dark figure neared until its outline became clearer through the haze. Bella recognized her and thought she'd faint from the relief.
"Who've ya got there, Miss Swan?" Lucy hissed in a broken whisper as a few coughs accompanied her words.
Bella's lip trembled as she turned from Edward to Lucy. There was a moment of uncertainty, a decision that needed to be made. But she knew in who she could trust. "He needs help!" she struggled as she scooted to the side, supporting his heavy frame.
"Lord spare us!" Lucy whispered as she closed in, kneeling down next to them.
"We need to get him off the street, Lucy," Bella rushed, irritated that the burly woman wasn't reacting. "He will be found or bleed out if we just leave him here, please," she begged.
"Aye, ya know I aim to help," Lucy mumbled, still not able to take her eyes off the masked man. He was once more slipping into unconsciousness. "But we need him to cooperate. Neither of us is strong enough to lift him inside, and the fewer people involved the better."
Bella turned to Edward, placing her shaking hand on his chin, directing his face to her. She saw the ashen skin of his chin, around his mouth. The sweat still pearled up, but he seemed aware of his situation, to some degree. "Cullen, can you walk?" she asked him.
His emerald orbs were captivated by her moving lips and it was hard to discern every word she had spoken. The blood kept pooling out of the gunshot wound from his side. He could feel the fatigue extend across his body and the cold that came with it.
A sigh escaped him as his head fell into the nook of her neck, losing consciousness.
"Cullen!" she exclaimed as low as possible, shaking him gently. But his eyes remained closed, his face paling by the second. His lips had started turning blue.
"I'm gettin' Joe!" Lucy hastened, getting up and rushing back into the tavern.
Bella was left alone with Edward, holding his limp form against her. She placed her arms around him, for the first time realizing that his life was in peril. "Edward," she whispered trembling against his ear. "Edward you cannot leave," she pleaded as silent tears started streaming down from her face. She thought she'd be crushed from his weight, but she didn't care.
It felt like hours passed by as she held him in her embrace. Every minuscule sound sent her heart pounding away and Bella Swan thought Lucy had abandoned her.
But, like a godsend, Lucy Berg finally reappeared, followed by Joe's muscular form as they neared the pair. Joe's eyes widened, but the humble and discreet man said nothing.
"He has a wound on his right side, be careful with it," Bella urged as he kneeled next to the man.
"Aye, but he be too big. Lucy, ya'll have to help me get 'im on," Joe said. "On my signal."
He took the man in black, slumped against Bella Swan and slowly lifted him against himself. With the help of Lucy, Joe grunted at the strain Edward's weight had on him. He slung the slumped man over his left shoulder. He almost couldn't get up and Bella had no idea how Joe managed, with staggering steps, to move forward with such a big weight on his back.
But move he did, and Bella walked after. Lucy remained, making sure the pool of blood Cullen had left behind was covered up with some spare hay. She took care in sweeping the droplets he left behind in case any soldiers passed by looking for him. Joe hand to hunch down as he entered through the back door and walked past the corridor with minute steps until he finally got into Lucy's room. As he placed the man in black gently into Lucy's bed, the strain on the wound must have awakened him, because Edward let out a large gasp.
Bella rushed to him, taking whatever pieces of cloth she could find in the small space and pressing them against his wound. "Get Dr. Blake, now!" she commanded, not even turning to face Joe. Her eyes were glued to Edward.
"But, Miss Swan—"
"Now! Or he will bleed out!"
It was enough to send Joe running. The moment the door shut and left them alone, she saw his eyes piercing into her form. He was lucid again, lucid enough to understand who she was and even where they found themselves. "You idiot," she mumbled incoherently, thinking he wouldn't hear her.
As she pressed the cloth against his wound, his right hand slowly and tediously came up to her. It took a lot of effort on his behalf, but he ignored the searing pain as he moved his arm. The gloved palm of his right hand came to her cheek, to wipe away some of the tears she had shed. Bella stopped fussing and let him caress her and comfort her in the way he knew best.
"I am an idiot," he agreed in a weak voice. It was breathy and strained, a slight wince to it every so often. "An idiot for causing you these tears."
Bella's mouth dropped slightly; like she wanted to retort him. But she kept quiet and squeezed her eyes shut, leaning into his caress.
Dr. Blake, fortunately, lived on the same square as Lucy. Had he not, the night might have played out very differently. She cast her eyes to the cloth she pressed on the wound. His right abdomen was soaked in blood and the black shirt clung to his skin.
There was still chaos erupting outside, and she hoped the soldiers would not come looking for him. Edward's breath seemed to have calmed down now that he found himself safer.
Bella had never liked the sight and smell of blood, and she ignored her own signs of faintness and paleness at the sight of the dark ruby liquid. But Edward, however, noted it. "You do not have to remain when Dr. Blake comes," he struggled to say, staring at her, growing more tired by the minute.
She huffed. Even in such a state, he thought about her. "I am going nowhere," she retorted. "But I do hope the good doctor finds a cure for that insufferable arrogance you hold. You couldn't have tried to save them at an earlier time? The garrison had enough momentum to prepare for you," she urged, growing agitated, avoiding his eyes.
A chuckle escaped him, but no sooner had it left his lips before he grimaced in pain.
"Edward?" she blurted out in fear that he had torn open the clotting wound.
No sooner had she said his name before his features went stark behind the mask, his head whipped quickly to face her, and his eyes widened as his breath left his body. Then his eyes darkened while his lips pressed together.
The door to Lucy's bedroom opened and Lucy herself ushered in Dr. Blake. His family had been physicians in Hayes since the Middle Ages. Blake had always thought the town as tranquil and liked it that way. But even he could not ignore his burning support for Cullen—whoever he was.
When Joe had snuck into his house and urged him to come to the tavern, Blake thought one of the staff or patrons had been hit by a stray bullet. Indeed, Joe would not say who his patient was, only that it was urgent and that they could not be seen. Blake, the very embodiment of discreetness, had agreed to sneak through the subsiding smoke as it settled after the rampant explosion that had shaken the entire town. At one moment, both men lay low, almost crouching forth, avoiding the few soldiers that had stayed behind. Blake didn't even lift an eyebrow as he was shown to the back of the tavern. He pushed the half-moon spectacles further up his nose and straightened the dark velour coat as he forced the tricorne had further down on his head.
Lucy had urged him to her bedroom, and Dr. Blake was met by a sight he never thought he'd witness in his lifetime. The moment the door was opened, he saw faint silver beams stream through a dirty window, touching the dark form of what he could only suppose to be the same Cullen of whom had been so much speculation. But seated next to him, illuminated by the same light, was Isabella Swan, pressing some blood-soaked linen against his left abdomen, seated on his bedside.
For those who knew of Cadherran history—and the story of Swan and Cullen going back to the sixteenth century—seeing the embodiment of Cullen with Bella next to him was not only bizarre, it sent Blake's jaw off its hinges. For, even if this Cullen was obviously a man of flesh and blood and not a ghost risen from the grave, his presence there with Bella was the very symbol of their province, of a tragic love that was never meant to be. And Blake grew clammy at the thought that if he could not save this man, history would strangely repeat itself.
He did not seem to be the only one to realize such a thing, for Lucy had grown flustered as she kept huffing intangible words.
"Dr. Blake, I fear he has lost a lot of blood," Bella urged. "He was shot here," she pointed, moving aside so the doctor could come closer.
Blake gulped and controlled his conflicting emotions. He rushed in with his bag and placed it on the cot next to them, opening it, revealing tools in metal, flasks, vials, and bandages.
"Has the bleeding stopped?" he asked her. He noted that the man was clammy, the skin that showed had droplets of sweat and he seemed feverish. Blake feared the wound had festered, but that could not be if he was shot recently. He supposed the man had gone into shock.
She lifted the bloodied linen. The wound looked grotesque, and Bella had to turn away from it. But Blake breathed out, it looked worse than it was from all the blood. He was satisfied to see it so caked, which meant the blood had clotted. He turned to the masked man. "Sir?" he began, rather uncertain on how to address him. He couldn't very well say 'general', even though the little boy in him wanted nothing more. "I will need to turn you to make sure the bullet has gone out the other side," he said.
Dark eyes watched him calmly. "Do what you must," the severe voice boomed. Edward's eyes fleeted back to Bella, feeling her look at him.
Blake got up and removed the velour coat and tricorne hat. He gathered his graying reddish-brown hair into a low ponytail and pushed the spectacles up his nose. "Joe!" he hissed to the larger man. "Some help?"
Bella went to sit by Edward's head, and she grimaced as both men slowly started turning him. She could see in the set of his jaw and the glazed expression in his eyes that he was in a lot of pain but unwilling to show it. Both of them heard a suppressed gasp as Edward was gently rolled back to rest on his back.
"The bullet is still inside," Blake muttered, scratching his head.
"Oh, I can't bear watchin' ya dig 'round in his belly!" Lucy exclaimed; her features growing evermore ashen by the minute. She had already seen enough blood.
Blake turned to her. "I'll need hot water—not boiling—your strongest alcohol and some vinegar." He then turned to Joe. "You'll have to help me hold him down when I extract the bullet," Blake said, meticulously working with Edward as he would any other patient. He faced Edward. "I tell you now, sir, this won't be a pleasant experience—"
"Has extracting a bullet ever been pleasant?" Edward mumbled in a wince.
Bella sighed. "Don't get smart with the doctor, Cullen," she urged.
Blake blushed at their nagging. "Miss Swan, you do not need to be here for the extraction—"
Bella Swan's chocolate eyes grew wild with indignation, burning him like a crisp. "Oh, I certainly do, doctor!" she told him. "I am not leaving him."
Edward looked up at her but remained quiet. They moved the cot so that Joe and Blake might have more time. Bella sat down on a stool next to Edward's head, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She started stroking it absentmindedly and the very action seemed to calm him. Lucy soon returned with the things Blake had requested. She got some clothes and said that she herself would go and wash up as not to cause a ruckus. It was only then that Bella noticed the blood that had stained Lucy's nightgown.
In the confined space of Lucy's bedroom were now four people. Blake started cleaning his tools and gave Edward a swig of the alcohol, to numb the pain slightly. Joe was instructed on how to hold him and the doctor gave Edward a piece of wood to hold between his teeth.
He leaned over with a knife. "I will first cut the surface, the entry is too small for my pincers," he explained as he disinfected a sharpened knife in the strong alcohol. Cullen nodded. Bella gripped his shoulder further as Joe pushed down. Blake slowly cut through the tender flesh, but Edward was good at keeping still. His breathing became heavier and his eyes pinched shut as his teeth bit down hard on the wood. Bella's lip quivered at his pain, wishing he did not have to go through it. "I-I am here," she whispered to him. "I am by your side." He relaxed from her words and she saw the pain subside just as Blake finished.
"Good," the doctor mumbled as he cleaned away the blood.
Dr. Blake cast aside the knife and retrieved some small pincers with concaved rounded tips, made specifically to extract bullets. Bella held an oil lamp close enough for Blake to see and they all took a collective breath. "This'll hurt like hell," the doctor said. "But you cannot scream, or the soldiers will hear and come," he said.
Edward, biting down on the piece of wood, nodded. His nostrils flared before his emerald eyes darted to Bella. He took her hand and she accepted it, squeezing it to show that she was there for him.
Blake then, with the sterilized pincers, poured some more of the strong alcohol into Edward's wound. The moment the liquid touched his tender flesh, Edward arched his back at the pain. But he could not go far as Joe held him down, a hard feat since Edward was nearly as strong as him, even in his weakened state. Bella watched in terror as Edward's eyes squeezed and his features twisted in pain, enough to show under the mask. But no sound emerged from his lips, only a faint wince.
Dr. Blake then took the pincers and pushed the torn flesh aside, causing Edward more pain. It was enough to make some stray tears escape his pinched eyes. Blake inserted the pincers and slowly, meticulously, started feeling around. Bella thought Edward would crush her hand, but she kept holding him, comforting him as best she could. Joe was already sweating from the strain of having to hold Edward down.
She closed in with the oil lamp and heard the exclamation of triumph as Blake seemingly grabbed onto something. He took out the bullet and placed it in a metal dish on the cot where he'd laid out the rest of his equipment. The moment the bullet was out, Blake examined it. "It looks whole, no fragments left behind," he muttered.
"He's bleeding too much!" Bella exclaimed in panic. Indeed, the wound that had only trickled some blood as Blake had slowly worked within it, was now almost gushing blood out.
Swiftly, he poured some more alcohol into the wound to thoroughly clean it. But this time, it did not seem to affect Edward, for his expression was hazy yet again. He was losing consciousness as the blood kept running out of him. Joe stepped back now that he was not needed anymore.
Bella removed the wood between his teeth. "Cullen," she said, trying to shake him into a lucid state. But his eyelids grew heavy until he passed out.
The doctor reached for his bag and retrieved a small flask of some type of powder. "Yarrow might do the trick," he muttered, grown flustered. He was not going to be the one responsible for losing Cullen. Blake sprinkled the yarrow powder generously over the wound, watching it soak up the blood and clot. He then applied some linen and waited with Bella. Joe sank down on the floor in a corner and waited with them, all tense, all in silence.
After a few minutes, then the blood was subsiding, Blake cleaned the wound again, sewed it shut and started applying bandages to it.
He settled back in a chair and removed his spectacles; breathing out after almost two hours. "He will live, if the wound does not fester," he said, speaking to Bella. She stared at Edward, laying there in peaceful slumber. They had removed his shirt and she caught sight of his bare torso, noting how lean it was, the shadows of his muscles, some faint scratches here and there, the constant rising and lowering of his naked chest.
"Thank you," she whispered. Bella turned to him. "I hate to be so blatant, doctor, but Joe needs to get you back to your home before the sun rises. If you are seen here, the Royal Guard will get suspicious—" she was about to continue when Lucy returned, dressed for the day. They were mere hours away from sunlight.
"The lancers," she urged. She had a fleeting look on her face; worry and agony. "They say they killed him!"
"Killed who?" asked Joe as he got up.
"Cullen!" Lucy exclaimed, pointing at him. She walked in and regarded him, sleeping soundly, his breaths heavy, his form relaxed. "Poor lad," she sighed.
Blake was packing together his belongings. "I'll do as you say, Miss Swan. You are right, being seen here will only bring more problems." Then he pointed at Cullen. "But having him remain here is equally as problematic. Yet I fear he will not move for some time."
"We must tell Hayes he is not dead!" Lucy continued.
Bella stood up hastily. "We cannot, for then the soldiers and Captain Forster will wonder how we got such information!" She turned to face Edward. "Hayes will have to live thinking he perished until he is well enough to confront the lancers again."
They all looked at him. "Ya do not think morale will drop?" Joe asked.
"The farmers got away from what I understand," Lucy added.
"That will keep Hayes going for now," Bella agreed.
Blake rolled down the sleeves of his shirt and placed the tricorne hat on, together with the frock. He wiped the last of the bloodstained water from his hands. "I leave him in your hands now, Lucy, Miss Swan. His bandages will have to be redressed daily for the next week. He should come to see me within the fortnight to look at the stitches," the doctor said, packing together his belongings but taking care in leaving behind some fresh bandages.
"I'll accompany ya back to yer home," Joe said, leaving with Blake. The doctor stood hesitant in the doorway, regarding how Miss Swan still remained by Cullen's sleeping side.
"Light foods, no alcohol" he muttered, eyeing Lucy. And with that, he was gone.
It was only Lucy and Bella who remained behind with Cullen. Wordlessly they started cleaning up, for Lucy's bedroom looked like a complete bloodbath had taken place. Bella noted that her lavender gown was soaked as well. She borrowed a fresh nightgown and placed a shawl about her shoulders while Lucy took to cleaning her gown. Bella would have to rush home as soon as she could and explain to her parents that she had been detained in the Goose. Then there was the matter on how to get Edward home.
Slowly the hours ticked by, the night sky getting lighter and lighter as dawn approached. The smoke had died down entirely, yet Edward still slept. She pulled the covers higher to cover his naked torso.
At some point, when the golden rays of a rising sun penetrated through the dirty window, shining into his eyelids, did he stir.
He was disoriented at first, looking around, until finding her sitting on a small stool. Bella Swan caught the golden sheen of a shy morning, trapped in its resplendent sunlight. She bore a white nightgown, too big for her lithe form with a gray woolen shawl about her shoulders. Her hair was down, all swept to the side and her chocolate eyes were steadfast on him. The orbs were deep, intense, flowing with unspoken words.
For a moment, as their eyes met, the world stopped for them. Bella and Edward were caught up in those few seconds, looking at one another, studying the other's expression.
Her heart pounded madly in her chest, her pulse roared in her ears, her cheeks grew flustered and her eyes glazed over. "You almost died," she whispered. Somewhere water trickled in a steady rhythm.
Despite it all, that charming smile etched its way into the corner of his mouth, his eyes gleaming as he looked at her with his head tilted to the side on the pillow. "And you saved me," he responded tiredly.
Her lips trembled as she nodded, clasping her hands as if thanking a higher power that she had been at the right place at the right time. Bella understood that she was meant to be at The Laughing Goose that night. "Do you know if they all got away?" she asked.
"Jacob led them to safety," he nodded. "Miss Swan—" he began but cut himself short. They knew more than enough about one another. Saying her name in such a way felt unnecessarily formal to him. "Bella." He cleared his voice, letting it settle to its normal state. It was still sweet, running smoothly like honey, caressing her ears gently. It still managed to make her knees weak and her heart soar. But it was not as deep, nor mysterious, indeed. And, yet, it rasped with a hint of fatigue, showing the strain he surely had to be feeling within his body.
Before Edward could continue, Bella interrupted him, not wishing to speak of the subject she was certain he was heading for. "Dr. Blake says you should redress those bandages daily and that," she fiddled restlessly. "If you can, should seek him out within the fortnight to have the stitches removed, and—"
"Bella," he said again, trying to sit up but bit back a sharp hiss as his battered abdomen said otherwise. Edward slumped back into the bed. He was tired. "You know," he said. He was so tired.
She faltered for a second, standing in the corner, her eyes darting about the room.
"Yes," she breathed carefully, slowly, hesitantly while meeting his eyes. There was a finality to the word, but no malice outlined it, no irritation, no sense of mistrust or even anger.
"I had expected you to lash out at me, some fiery exclamations, maybe even tears. But not this…calm."
"Why should I be angry?"
"Anger," he sighed, a sense of defeat etching its way into his bearing. "Anger usually goes with disappointment."
The waft of baking bread reached them in turn with the town waking up from the aftermath of that night's occurrences. When she bathed in the gaze of his green forest orbs, Bella got the sense that summer had finally arrived. "I…understand why you kept up this façade."
Those same green orbs, whose warm intensity had regarded her a second earlier, darted away from her.
"I admit that I was surprised at first." Bella chewed her lip, her demeanor calm. "You played both your roles rather well." Her faint tone subdued. Other noises seemingly invaded them as Hayes awoke and daily life settled into its mundane rhythm. There was a normalcy which broke through their strange situation, and it comforted them both to see that despite the strangeness of their current predicament, the same old Hayes would wait for them beyond the walls of Lucy's chamber.
A shadow stretched about the room. Much hung unspoken in the air, much that needed to be said. She knew he looked at her, his eyes going through every little inch of her rigid frame. "Not…everything was a masquerade, Bella."
Flustered, she got up with her back to him. "Oh, come now, Edward. I've unmasked you. There is no need to be teasing me so anymore!" The impact of hooves on cobblestone mingled with rolling carts. Conversation flowed from the main dining room of the tavern. She discerned the rustling in the kitchens as the day's meals were being prepared. The clang of pots and pans muffled through the wooden walls and door. The small room grew even smaller as she thought her back would catch fire with him behind her.
She could hear his sharp intakes of breath as he shifted in the bed, as he changed his position. "You know what I speak of."
"No," she whispered, afraid, wanting to flee yet strangely rooted in place. Within her raged a conflict. She remained standing steadfast, eyes glued to the door, wondering if she could flee her current situation.
"Look at me." It wasn't an order, only a neutral statement. "Please." His tone softened and she could not resist. Bella turned to face him. He was half-way out of the bed but stopped, holding his abdomen. She looked at the pitiful picture of a defeated and wounded warrior—making her aware of his humanity: Edward could bleed like the rest of them. Edward could also die like the rest of them, something he had almost come close to last night. She was reminded of the fact that she had almost lost him, and that very thought sent a jolt of pain through her so intense that she felt faint.
"You kissed me back," he said with a certain finality. "You kissed me back," he breathed, falling back into bed. It was his assurance of their relation.
Edward had strained himself too hard.
"I…" she tried to answer with a shaken voice. There was no denying it. "Aye."
He shut his eyes. "Aye," he mimicked in a strained mumble laced with fatigue.
Bella watched him for a moment, as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, stared at his bared torso rising and sinking slower and slower. She went to pick up the covers, dragging them up over his sleeping form.
She knew why she had kissed him back. She supposed such feelings had been developing within her for a long time, and she had tried to ignore them. "I kissed you back," she murmured, pouring a cup of water for him.
But he had already fallen asleep.
Lucy stepped in and out a few times during the early morning. The Laughing Goose worked as usual and nothing seemed amiss. That the most searched for outlaw of the county hid in the back, would never have crossed anyone's mind. But there he lay, soundly asleep, under the watchful eye of Isabella Swan.
He came too when the hour had passed nine and all Hayes now believed Edward Cullen dead. While the soldiers cleaned up the square and garrison after the aftermath of the confrontation, the citizens all gathered to watch, some feeling their hope dwindle. Captain Forster, even if not having had found the body, was smug and tranquil now that the bastard seemed gone. He and Wilson, while having lost the five farmers, had felt it a just exchange to get rid of the pestering man who had been irritating them for so long.
"I need to get back home before my family starts wondering about my whereabouts," he said to her in a groggy voice.
Bella startled on the cot, whipping her head to meet him where he laid. "How will you explain your…absence to them?"
"I am certain Rosalie has concocted another brilliant lie for me to tell," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. His right hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Rosalie?" Bella's jaw dropped to the floor. "Your sister knows?" she inched forward to whisper.
He arched an eyebrow at her under the mask. "She has been helping me keep the ruse of the idiotic peacock well and alive."
She settled back on the cot, flabbergasted at the new bit of information.
"Bella, you must make a message arrive to her. She will have Joseph deliver me a spare change of clothes and retrieve my things from the tavern. I rented a room for the night," he told her with urgency.
"You are in no condition to even be standing!" she blurted out. "How on earth will you manage to get back to your house without causing a ruckus?"
"You are not helping by pointing out all the flaws in my plan," he deadpanned.
Chocolate brown eyes flickered to and fro, watching him in such a weakened state. "Lucy has washed and mended your shirt," she mumbled.
He settled back in the bed, his hand clutching his right side, his lips pressed together. Those lips, soft against her, touching her in a way she had never been touched before. She had kissed those lips. Bella could already sense the flush creeping up her throat. It didn't help that his upper body was bare.
There were thoughts running through his head, painful thoughts, from the look of it. A subject she would not breach.
"I…will send a message," she gave up. She wanted to see him safe. "I do not know how you will not arise suspicion, maybe this is the time to tell your family evertyh—"
"No!" he lashed out as he tensed to sit up. His aversion to the idea came out so strongly that he gave out a painful cry as he shifted the weight of his body with his core, straining his abdomen.
Bella quickly rushed to his side, pushing on his left shoulder to lay back in the bed. "Careful!" she said, her eyes wide with worry. "Did you tear your stitches?" she asked, fussing over him. She pulled the covers down and examined his bandages.
As she fussed over him, so clearly concerned with his well-being, Edward could only stare at her, at the woman that had been present in his mind lately. He was mesmerized by her every movement and didn't realize the look that crept into his eyes, or the small genuine smile touching his lips.
"Nothing looks torn, but you shouldn't move…so…hastily," she trailed off as she caught the way in which he regarded her.
It was the same way her father looked at her mother, or how Jasper and Alice would stare at one another.
And now Edward looked at her in that way. For, now that she knew his secret, he seemed to let down his guard completely. Even with the mask still on, she could clearly perceive the expression on his face.
Her sudden pause made him clear his voice and look away. "Tis fine, really," he mumbled. "The message, for Rosalie," he reminded.
"Ah, yes, yes." She got up. "The message." Bella gathered her skirts and rushed out of the room. The moment she shut the door she had to take a moment in the hallway, leaning against the wall, pressing her hand to her chest, feeling the frantic beating of her heart, the heat washing over her.
She wrote the letter, as Edward instructed, asking that Rosalie send Joseph with a fresh pair of clothes for her brother. She did not say who she was as a sender, to lessen the questions that might stir. She gave it to one of the kitchen maids when Lucy wasn't paying attention. The Laughing Goose had been open for a little over three hours, and the past hour had been filled to the brim ever since the barricades had been moved and the townspeople were allowed to enter the square again.
She waited for Joseph at the back of the tavern. When the elegant butler came up to her, he knew instantly that it had been she who had sent the letter. He uncharacteristically ran his hand through his graying black hair. "Is he alright?" the man asked frantically. "T-they keep saying that he was killed!"
"Joseph," Bella urged, taking the leather bag from his hands. "He is as good as one can be when one has been shot," she whispered.
There where pedestrians passing by, but none paid them much attention.
"Shot?!" Joseph blurted out.
"Shhhh! When he gets back home, he will explain everything. You will have to assist him, however, for he has difficulty walking."
The older man nodded, wringing his hands. "I have a carriage waiting just behind the corner by the baker. Most people are flocking still to the front of the tavern and the square, he will not be noticed," Joseph said. "While he dresses, I will retrieve his things from his room in the inn."
A strong nod was all the young brunette gave him before running back in. Joseph stared after her as the too big white nightgown flowed in the soft spring wind.
She entered and walked up to Edward. "Joseph is here!" She placed the bag next to him.
He stared at the clothes and then at her. "I hate to ask but…"
"Y-you can change yourself!" she uttered, backing away from him.
"I can barely move my right side."
His eyes darted from her to the bag of clothes. She started chewing on her lip and fiddling with her hands. With a sound of irritation and defeat, Bella Swan locked the door and then walked up to him. She would have to be quick, in case Lucy or someone else decided to walk in on them only to find the door barricaded.
"The mask first," he mumbled, staring at her.
"You cannot even take that off?"
"I can barely raise my right arm above my shoulder," he answered dryly.
"You will have to sit up first."
With much effort, grunts, winces and even some curses, both were sweating when Edward finally sat up in the bed, nauseated from the strain. He did not wish to alert her how bad he felt. The act of sitting had drained him completely.
She was about to move on, but he asked her for a moment to catch his breath. Thus, Bella sat next to him, holding him steady by the shoulders so that he wouldn't slump over. He was sweating again, despite it being so cool in the room. "Maybe you should stay here a while longer," she suggested after taking a closer look at him. "I'm sure Lucy wouldn't mind."
"I must return, or my father will wonder where I am, and my absence will raise suspicion."
It dawned on her the weight his secret had to be putting on his shoulders. It seemed a very lonely secret, even if he shared it with his sister and Joseph. And, now, her as well.
Finally, he took a few deep breaths and nodded for her to continue. Bella's hesitant hands came up to the base of his neck at the back of his head, resting on the knot that tied his mask shut. She leaned in and started undoing it, unaware of how close she was getting to him. Even now he smelled of the forest, of sandalwood and pine. Her touch was timid, careful, almost loving, he thought. Bella's breath hitched in her throat as the knot of the laces came undone and she started undoing the mask.
The act was strenuous on her for some reason, almost forbidden. She was Pandora, opening the box that was supposed to remain sealed. The act felt wrong. She was exposing the face behind the myth. But her hands didn't stop, Edward didn't stop her. She knew he was watching her intently; every minuscule detail of her reaction.
The laces were undone, and she dragged the mask from his head, revealing his face before her.
But it wasn't Edward Masen.
Surely, this man could not be him. Edward Masen was a pompous peacock that proudly had his nose up in the air, his hair perfectly curled against his temples, his face powdered white and rouge on his cheeks. Her body took over and her fingers started trailing over these new features she had seen but never truly seen.
The arrogant and smug expression was gone. She saw past the façade, saw the real Edward that had been hiding behind both Masen and Cullen.
It was a face that opened to her, honest, clear, calm, inviting. The straight nose, the squared jaw, the expressive eyebrows, the full lips. He was so handsome, and she had never noticed. He was handsome enough to take her breath away, but it wasn't what threw her off. She finally saw the true Edward, the hints of him she had perceived as they spent time together.
His dark copper curls tumbled into his eyes and she swallowed at the boyish grin that touched his face. "Not what you expected?" he grinned faintly.
Remembering herself, she retrieved her hand and put the mask aside, clearing her voice. "Yes, it is the same face I remember," she answered, flustered. Bella fished around the bag and retrieved a frilly pressed shirt in linen. Her nose wrinkled at the familiar style in which he dressed. She helped him put the shirt.
When she fished out the trousers, Bella blushed madly.
"I will not help you put these on!" she said, throwing them at him.
He snorted and grabbed the bright blue trousers. "Will you help me take off the ones I'm wearing?" he asked in a sultry voice.
She hopped away from the bed and pointed an accusing finger at him. "Have some modesty, sir!"
He tilted his head to the side. "Why, I could say the same for you, madam." He leaned in. "I've seen you eyeing my bared torso the whole morning," he smirked. "And I do not think modest thoughts were running through your mind when—"
"Do not vex me so!" she spat back with a lack of counterargument.
"But I do so love vexing you," he blinked.
"Argh!" she let out, frustrated. When Edward let out a small burst of amused laughter through his nose, she understood that he was teasing her. "I will help you partly remove your trousers. You will have to do the rest yourself."
"Only a heartless woman would have an invalid dress himself," he tsked.
"You are not an invalid," she spat back, rolling her eyes. Bella neared him, staring at his trousers. The black fabric hugged the outline of his legs; thus it was tight against his skin. The very notion of touching him below his waistline had her grow red and faint. But she would not voice it.
Bella sat next to him and helped undo the sash and pull the waist of his trousers down. Thankfully his shirt covered him, but he could not or rather, would not, bend down to take off the rest of the garment. Thus, she finally found herself dragging it off as he winced while she tugged. The black pants did come off eventually, with Bella sitting in a heap on the floor and Edward almost bent over in pain, wondering if he had not torn a stitch.
Putting on the bright blue trousers was easier and soon the whole outfit was on him. Bella wrinkled her nose at it as she carefully buttoned up the dusty yellow waistcoat. "Has anyone ever told you these colors clash?" she muttered as he pulled up the sleeve of his dark green velour frock.
"Rosalie and Joseph," he muttered. "Constantly. But the more they clash, the better," he sighed. "It makes me look all the more the fool."
Bella clasped her hands together as he corrected the frills and started aligning his hair flat to his head with the wax Joseph had provided in the bag. "You do not have to be a fool, Edward."
Meticulously he kept at his hair, a sadness spreading on his features. "A fool is overlooked and never taken seriously. It is…safer to be the dandy and taken for a fool."
"I am certain it has its price." She knew the regard Carlisle had for his son. Oh, but if he only knew who Edward truly was.
"You have no idea."
He had applied some powder and rouge to his face. The disguise was complete. But she could not unsee the man who had been present before. He was still there, in his bearing, in his eyes, in his presence.
She had stuffed his other clothes in the bag. "Are you ready?" she asked.
Edward placed the cocked hat on his head and gave a stiff nod. With great effort, she helped him up to stand. With a cane, she helped him to the door. They had been left alone by Lucy. Bella was certain the innkeeper would have a myriad of questions for her the next time she returned. For anyone who had been present as Edward had been patched up, could discern that there was something between her and Cullen.
She unlocked the door and looked out, making sure the corridor was empty. She ushered him out, but he moved in a slow pace. "You cannot hide that you've been wounded," she told him as his larger frame leaned on her for support.
"I'll have to play drunk when I return," he mumbled in a faint voice. She knew he had to be suffering but tried to hide it.
Soon, they reached the door that took them out of the inn and to where Joseph was waiting on them. When he saw that Edward was alive and well, he rushed up to him.
"I thought you were done for!" he exclaimed as he went up to support him.
"Not the side, not the side!" Edward grimaced through the pain.
"He was shot there," Bella added. "Where is the carriage?"
Joseph took them to the end of the street, all the while, making sure no eyes were on them. Both helped Edward up and when he had settled, he turned to Bella. "Make your way home and stay there. These next few days will see unrest, I am certain."
As Joseph urged the horses, a myriad of questions sprung to mind. "What about Mr. Ridge's evidence?" she shouted, but they were already gone. She cleared her voice and rushed back to the tavern.
Bella had not even set one foot inside the mansion when she was bombarded by familiar faces. A thousand questions flew left and right until she was taken to her mother. Renée's eyes were red and her face generally puffy. She embraced her daughter for too long. "I thought Captain Forster had thrown you into a cell!" her voice trembled with sobs, fresh tears spilling from her eyes. "And no word! Isabella Marie Swan, I ought to have you locked in your chamber for the rest of your life!"
Charles Swan stood wordlessly behind his wife. They allocated to the parlor to be left alone from the inquisitive servants. When Renée calmed down and Bella had recovered from the shock of seeing her mother so distraught, her father finally spoke.
"Where were you?" She had never heard his tone so loaded, yet so calm. Bella was certain, her father had never before been so furious with her.
"I…" she had gone over the excuse many times in her head. "I went to see Lucy, some hours before they were to close off the square, thinking I had enough time. But when I was to ride back, the soldiers had already mounted the barricades and would not let me pass. There was no way I could send word." Her words and expressions were genuine. "Forgive me, papa!" Bella pleaded.
His demeanor softened when he saw his daughter's pleading face. "Your mother was worried sick, Bella!" Charles shot up from his chair, pacing the room; something he always did when he was distraught or unnerved.
Bella walked over to him, taking his hands in hers. "Papa, I was safe, Lucy kept me in her room, away from the front. I never saw what happened in the garrison," she comforted, turning to her mother. Renée had wiped her tears.
Her father's hand trailed up from her hands to the sleeves of her dress. "Why is your dress damp?" he asked.
Her posture grew stale. Damnation, she thought. Lucy had taken great lengths in cleaning out the bloodstains left after Edward had been sewn back together. But it was too much to ask that the muslin gown would dry completely in just a few hours, even hanging above the kitchen fires. She swallowed hard. "I spilled some wine when I had my supper last night."
"Indeed?" he muttered, stepping away from her. He had seen through her, knowing it was not the entire truth to her story.
"Papa, I know I just came back home, and that Hayes is disoriented with the attack on the garrison. However, I need to change and return to Lucy's. I didn't pay for my lodging or food and I forgot my riding gloves."
Renée rushed over to her daughter. "You are not leaving this house, Bella! Forster is out for blood after news that Cullen was shot and killed. They are still trying to find the body."
This, of course, was already known to Bella. She knew that Cullen had been shot, yet he had survived. "What?" she forced herself to exclaim. "No, that cannot be!"
"I am certain the captain is exaggerating, my sweet," her mother cooed, taking her in her arms. "But I do not want you near that man. He is growing…unstable," she shivered. "Charles, you must speak to Wilson about this. Collins has proven passive; you must gather some of the other families with some say here and have Wilson do something for a change. This is turning into a warzone!"
"Mama," Bella urged. "Mama, I know you worry. But if I remain locked in the house, I will feel worse."
Charles still eyed his daughter with suspicion. "Renée, my love, leave us. I would speak to our daughter in private."
Bella paled; she had never felt so mistrusted by her father before. He kept still, eyeing her with poise as his lips pressed together and his eyes squinted slightly.
Renée knew that when her husband wished to speak with their daughter alone, it was usually critical. Maybe he was set on changing Bella's mind by himself. "I will have Dory prepare you some early lunch," she said, walking away.
When the door was shut, Charles started pacing the room. "You should be familiar with how quickly gossip spreads in this town," he told her, keeping his face away. Every so often, he'd stop and twirl the mustache. The rug muted the severe impact of his boots upon the hardwood floor.
"I think Hayes is the worst town in Angloa when it comes to gossip," she muttered.
"Do not get smart with me, young lady!" he sprung toward his only daughter. She looked at him sheepishly. Her hair was in a disarray, her gown still damp and wrinkled, her face pale and her lips parted. Her eyes wide and uncertain, her hands itching to fiddle with her skirt—something she always did when he reprimanded her.
"I do not understand, papa," she whispered. "My detainment in The Laughing Goose was inevitable. But I was under the strict eye of Lucy, I promise—"
Charles proceeded to pace again, scratching his head, running his hand through his hair. He had removed the dark maroon frock and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his waistcoat.
"Then explain to me why you escorted what looked like a rather drunk Edward Masen out from the back entrance of The Laughing Goose in nothing but a nightgown?"
She thought she'd grow sick as her stomach dropped and her skin turned into gooseflesh. Bella found no words at first. "H-how did you know?"
"How?" he flailed with his arms; his face grown red as he rushed up to her. "How indeed when you were so completely indiscreet! If your mother knew she'd faint from the scandal. And what a scandal! Robert saw you, together with a servant of the Masen household. Be lucky they have both sworn to keep silent!"
"It is not what you think!" she retorted with a trembling voice.
Charles Swan grimaced in pain. "Out of all the men, Bella, Edward bloody Masen? The peacock you were too good for?"
"Papa, there is no scandal!"
"Indeed, this will not go beyond our or Masen's walls. But the fact remains that it did happen!" he growled. He ran his hands through his hair again, bending over and leaning against the couch. "Oh, I feel faint," he muttered, pinching his eyes shut.
Oh dear, Bella thought. This was not good. "Mr. Masen did spend the night at the inn, but Lucy can attest that he was in another room. I was in her room the entire night, I promise you!"
"Let us hope she is vocal with that, for otherwise, you will have to pray Mr. Masen marries you to save your reputation."
A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews on the last chapter! I am sorry for the cliffhanger, I hope this chapter makes up for it!
Cheers,
Isabelle