The next morning, Isabella rose from bed with minimal pain. She still felt a dull ache in her head and midsection, but it was an observation, rather than a frustrating pain. After experimentally stretching her limbs, she concluded that the four days of essentially non-stop sleep had sufficiently aided her healing.
As she got dressed, moving cautiously, her eyes strayed to the bookshelf where Edward had found the book of Robert Burns poetry. As she settled into the thick turtleneck she had picked for the day, she realized that the book was no longer there.
Edward must have taken it with him.
On top of the book shelf there was a small mirror that Isabella's eyes caught after giving him her search for the book. Isabella raised her hand to her pale cheek, pressing experimentally at it before poking gently at the bags under her eyes. She tried to fluff over her hair to give it some flattering volume as her eyes stared back at her.
With a hum, Isabella reached for her purse and started to rummage around. She dug past her wallet, passport, two packs of gum, a pair of gloves, and her checkbook before succeeding in finding what she was looking for.
"Aha," she muttered to herself, pulling out the tube of mascara that had not been used since their wedding over a month ago.
Before she could think twice, she opened her eyes wide and started to brush the makeup over her eyelashes.
There was a knock on the door.
"Coming!" she exclaimed too hurriedly.
"Awright then?" Edward asked through the door.
"I'll be out in a moment!" she said, feeling remarkably like she had just been caught doing something improper.
"Take yer time, hen" he replied before she heard his footsteps go toward the kitchen.
Isabella licked her finger and then rubbed at the black smear on her nose that she had given herself from surprise. She was tempted to dig for the makeup wipes that she knew were somewhere at the bottom of the purse and just take it all off, feeling foolish as she considered it.
With a low growl, she tossed the mascara back into the purse and exited the bedroom. The motion momentarily made the dull ache twinge with pain. She cupped her stomach as she walked around the entryway to the kitchen, letting out a slow experimental breath.
"Bella," Edward said with a frown of concern when he saw her, "are ye sure ye feel up to being up and about?"
With a brief grimace, Isabella nodded. "I'm fine."
Edward didn't look convinced.
She took a seat at the padded stool at the counter and dropped her hand from her stomach as the pain diminished. "I'm alright," she said with more conviction.
"Would ye like more of that peppermint tea?" he asked. After she hummed in affirmative, he flipped on the switch on the electric kettle. "What can I get ye to eat?"
"Keeping yer wife fed?" she teased.
"Always, mo leannan," he said, a wry grin on his lips. For just a moment after speaking, his stare on her face lingered, a twinkle in his eyes.
"Toast would be perfect," she said, feeling dumb about the little bit of makeup.
"Do ye think yer stomach would tolerate some eggs too?" he asked. He pulled the bread out of the bread box as he continued, "Ye'll need some protein to get yer strength back."
Isabella nodded, "That should be fine, thank you."
Edward moved easily about the kitchen, humming to himself as he pulled the eggs out of the cabinet and the skillet from under the stove. Isabella watched him as he worked before her eyes strayed to the stack of papers next to her on the counter. She recognized the notebook she had commandeered for Sleat purposes.
As she reached to get the notebook, her name caught her attention on the paper stacked on top of it.
CERTIFIED COPY OF AN ENTRY OF MARRIAGE.
Isabella picked up the document, studying it intently.
With a cautious air about him, Edward set down a steaming mug of peppermint tea in front of her. He eyed her and eyed the paper, wary of her reaction.
Isabella swallowed against her dry throat before slowly setting the parchment back down.
"Official looking, aye?"
Isabella nodded absentmindedly.
"Awright lass?" he asked.
"Did you ever wonder what the plan was?" she asked, ignoring his question.
Edward crossed his arms loosely against his chest, leaning back on the island table. "What plan?"
"What comes next?" she asked.
"With Sleat? With us? With you? With the recession?" he clarified, sounding slightly amused.
"Yes," she said simply.
Edward thought seriously about this for a second, rubbing at his freshly shaven jaw.
"Aye," he finally replied. "Aye, I suppose I've wondered a time or two."
"And?"
She could hear the anxiety in her voice. She wondered if he could too.
"Bella, that's always been up to ye."
"Me?"
"Aye, ye," he confirmed slowly. "I have tried to treat ye like an equal business partner and care for ye as best as I can like a wife. That's all. I have no conceived any timelines or schemes regarding Sleat's debt long term…nothing. Ever since ye came barging into my office, treating ye as best as I can has truly been my only plan in any of this."
For what felt like the first time, Isabella had been rendered speechless.
Under the weight of his blazing stare, his stare that corroborated his words, she could not think. She could not piece together words to respond to such a declaration.
The sound of toast springing from the depths of the toaster saved her.
Edward turned to the toaster to retrieve the two crisp pieces of bread. Free from his gaze, she was able to breathe.
"Thank you for that, Edward."
He nodded, and they fell silent.
Nothing more could be said on the subject.
Isabella picked up the mug and felt the warmth against her chilled fingers. It would be snowing soon, Edward had promised. Isabella shivered at the thought, feeling the hot ceramic do its best to warm her.
"Should we head into work today then?" Isabella finally asked after she took a tentative sip of the hot tea.
Edward looked up from where he was whisking the eggs.
"No, I dinnae think so," he remarked, continuing to cook. "Jasper has it covered."
"But there is wor-"
Edward looked over his shoulder with a pointed eyebrow. "The doc banned ye from screens for at least five days."
Right, the concussion.
Isabella huffed.
Edward turned his head and grinned at the noise.
"There are some statements that need w-"
"Tomorrow, perhaps."
Isabella pursed her lips before lifting her tea to her mouth to take a sip, leveling him with a sassy stare when he looked back over.
Edward actually laughed at the sour look she was giving him. It was an open mouth laugh that showed his dimples. "Tomorrow," he repeated, "if yer up for it. I promise"
Given the fact that she still could feel a dull ache in her head, she didn't argue further.
"How do you propose I spend today then?"
Edward hummed as he stirred the scrambled eggs.
"I have chess, checkers, cards, dominos, and Monopoly," he finally replied jokingly, though he was entirely serious.
Edward dished the cooked eggs onto the two plates with the waiting toast. Isabella shifted over to allow him more room to sit next to her, grabbing the jam and butter from off the side and placing it between them.
"What will it be then?" he asked, buttering his toast.
Isabella swallowed a bite of the eggs. "Oh, you were serious?"
"Aye," he grinned.
Not having any better idea of how to spend the day, Isabella thought about it and then answered. "We'll start with checkers and see if I can muster the stamina to work my way up to chess."
"Yer on."
~O~
After breakfast, Edward made a fire in the living room to take away the winter chill while Isabella gathered up their dirty breakfast dishes and scrubbed them clean in the sink.
She realized that, like many of their routines, it was entirely domestic.
They settled around the coffee table. Edward insisted that Isabella take the spot on the plush couch while he sat opposite of her on the floor. Two mugs of forgotten cocoa sat in front of them, disregarded when they did move from checkers to chess.
Edward was not taking it easy on her. She was not doing well, but she was stubbornly trying.
"Are ye sure ye want to go there?" he checked.
Not usually one to relent, Isabella raised her eyebrows challengingly, but she nodded.
With a swift move of his knight, her rook tumbled to the ground.
"Damn," she muttered, moving the piece to the side.
"Ye dinnae back down, I'll give ye that, lass."
"You're just noticing that now?" she teased with a small grin.
Edward said nothing, just gave her one of his rare, full, unguarded smiles. It was a smile of affection and pleasure that admittedly left her uncomfortably speechless.
A knock on the door startled them out of their bubble.
It was not a polite knock such that Esme or Carlisle would do. It was a firm beat that made Edward immediately stiffen. Isabella moved to push the blanket off of her lap, but Edward shook his head. "Stay there, lass."
Isabella turned her head so that she could follow his movement to the door, watching sharply as he answered the door.
"Sheriff," Edward greeted politely, "what brings ye round?"
The man from the Isles Inn that Isabella had briefly introduced herself to was standing in their doorway, in full police uniform. Isabella felt a thin layer of sweat immediately spread across her forehead.
The sheriff wasted no time. He glanced over Edward's shoulder to see that Isabella was in ear shot and actively listening.
"I am here to conduct formal interviews with the two of ye regarding accusations of forced marriage and fraud."
Isabella exhaled slowly through her nose. Outwardly, she maintained every semblance of calm. Inwardly, her heart was thumping in her chest so loud that she would not be surprised if the sheriff could hear it.
"Are we being arrested then?" Edward asked coldly. "Do ye have warrants?"
"Arrested, no." The sheriff pulled papers out of his coat. "Warrants, yes."
Edward grabbed the papers and did not reply as he glanced through them.
"We will not be saying a thing until we have counsel present," Edward replied firmly.
The sheriff didn't appear entirely surprised by this. "Are ye sure ye want to do that?"
"Why would I no?"
Miller shrugged. "In addition to counsel being notoriously expensive, I have to document everything in the process. Including any delays for independent legal advising, which tend to make folks who look rather…rather suspicious."
That did make Edward pause.
"We are both entitled to support people. We will interview together."
Miller shook his head. "Ye are entitled to support but ye having her as yer support person and vice versa is an unreasonable interference."
"Bella is recovering from a head injury," he argued.
Miller glanced over his shoulder again. "She looks fine to me."
"She is clearly within earshot and can be personally addressed, thank you," Isabella snapped in petty irritation, rising from the couch in annoyance.
Apparently, it had been a bad day to put the mascara on.
Though to Isabella, it seemed he did have a point in delaying the inevitable.
"Apologies," the sheriff replied blankly.
Edward was silent as Isabella went to stand by him.
"Look, MacDonald," Miller leveled with him frankly, "I have a few questions about how the two of ye met, that's it. Ye both have the right to remain silent and not answer any questions but if ye cooperate, there's a good chance we can just put this matter to rest today and be done with the lot."
At that, Edward finally glanced down to Isabella. There was a question in his eyes, a question and deferral to her judgment.
"Fine."
I moved into my new house and spent two weeks without internet so you have my apologies for the delay.
We'll see how this goes for these two...seems unlikely that it ends well.
All the love.