Good evening! Thank you SO much for all your birthday and anniversary wishes! I've found a new love in my life... Hot chocolate with a large helping of Irish Cream...Yummy!

Michaelmas fairs offered Victorian families a well-deserved opportunity to enjoy themselves after months of strenuous labor. These gatherings included food, music, dancing, games, and festive costume parades. Michaelmas was also considered the time to settle accounts and pay rents.

…

September 22nd, 1843

Isabella Swan

Michaelmas was fast approaching, and everyone was in a rush to finish off the harvest in a timely manner and deliver the goods to market if need be. With only two farmhands and myself, it was proving hard to harvest in all the grain and wheat before the rains fell and on top of that, we had animals to tend to and food to store.

We had seven days until Michaelmas and as much as I was working all hours that God sent, it still seemed as though I was getting nowhere with anything.

I had list upon list of things to do and I was beyond exhausted when I fell into bed at night, only to rise a few hours later to begin it all again.

Charles had recovered from his small cold and was back out with Emmett most of the day and even mamma seemed to have perked up, but the weather was changing and that took its toll on my moods.

I knew that in a matter of weeks, the rain and cold would come and another long set of worries would hit me.

Late autumn and winter months were spent repairing the farm buildings and tools, tending to the animals inside the barns, and making good the home.

I knew I could do the majority of the work, as I had done in the last couple of years, but with the cold months came the need for fattier foods, more wood for the fires, and keeping illnesses away from the heart and home.

That of course meant money.

Michaelmas was the time of year that servants were hired. Land was exchanged and new magistrates were elected. It was also the time when rents were due for the quarter and I was worried.

I knew that we would be safe as soon as the harvest was sold and that I could pay the rent for this quarter, but it was the other times of the year that worried me deeply and that I would have to do this by myself.

This year would be the first that I was to meet with the land agent to pay the rent for the quarter and to discuss terms for the following year. It was also the time to talk to the farmhands about their jobs and whether they wanted to stay another year or not.

It was the first official thing I was set to do as an adult, and I fretted over the details as I fell to sleep each night.

I knew that Emmett would stay on the land, as had his father before him, but I was unsure about Thomas. I had overheard a private conversation with him and Emmett just last week that he might be called home due to a family illness.

If he did leave, that only left Emmett and I to manage the farm.

Over the winter months, that would not be too much of a bother, but come spring, we would need further help to get our jobs done with planting and sowing. We would also need help moving the stock from the barns to the fields and also with mating them. And of course, there had to be major building repairs like the barn roof after the last storm that we had. Emmett had managed to put in a temporary patch to seal it, but the whole thing needed to be replaced before winter truly hit.

We also had to repair the flooring of the pigsty because the animals liked to be a little on the destructive side and that would mean that we would have to do that with Lyme mortar before the first frost hit.

Rosalie, Emmett's wife, had offered to help with as much as possible, but she was caring for Emmett's mother who was quite elderly and there was only so much she could be away from the home for.

There was so much to think about, and I seemed to be fretting over every little detail that would arise.

"Bells, is there a door to heaven?" Charles asked as he sat down at the table, and I passed him a small bowl of potato soup along with a thick slice of bread that I had put beef drippings onto.

His questions always caught me off guard for some reason and I gave up any hope of ever trying to understand how his little mind worked.

"I think it must be a secret door, one that only the dead can see," I answered as honestly as I could.

I did not want to dwell on thinking about the dead. Unlike many other people of our time, I had no time or inclination for the perverse and disrespectful fascination with death.

As soon as Charles was finished with his food, I sent him up to bed and I went to visit Mamma.

I wished I could spend more time with her if just to read to her or work my needlepoint that had been left untouched since she fell ill, but my day started at five in the morn and did not end outside until a little after seven at night. All day I had to clean, cook, wash and tend to the farm outside and when I was inside, I still had more jobs to do, like mend Charles's clothes, fix little things, and make sure the house was as clean as tidy as it could be. A solitary crumb left unnoticed could result in an infestation of bugs, or worse, rodents, and that was a worry I did not need.

I was never more grateful now that Mrs. Cope's daughters had wed and had left home. She was an angel to us and spent most of her days with mamma.

After she was fed and settled into bed, it was my turn to gather as many hours of sleep as possible.

…

The following days rushed by in a whirl of harvesting and preserving. Mamma insisted that she sit with me while I preserved the last of the fruits that I had gathered and even explained the salting process of meat in more depth, to ensure it be safe and well preserved. She had also made me gather a small box of cards from under her bed that held the family's recipes for cooking and preserving.

She wanted me to learn them by heart so that I could pass them on to future girls in the family when the time came, and just in case something ever happened to the prized cards. I did not have the heart to tell her that it would be Charles's future wife who would have to do that, however.

"Isabella, I want you to promise me, no matter what happens, that you will care for your brother like he is your own. Help school him and love him and have Emmett show him how to own a farm," mamma said softly as I hung the last of the salted pork in the pantry.

She could not see me, and I was glad for that because her tone hit me in the chest so painfully.

It was like she was preparing … preparing me for when she goes to find papa.

"I promise," I said somberly as I brushed my hands down my apron and walked back into the kitchen.

"I know, I just needed to hear it." She smiled softly.

Soon after, she made her way back to bed and it was time to milk the cattle again.

"You can not sneak up on me when you are walking over the straw and your linens rustle it," I smiled as I rested my head on the belly of one of the milking cows.

"I did not mean to creep, I just wanted to watch you," Lady Cullen laughed.

"It is long and laborious work, not very interesting, I assure you," I smiled in return as I finished and stood back up, pulling the bucket with me.

I tried to hide the wince from the pain in my back and if Lady Cullen saw, she did not mention it, for which I was grateful.

"It must be more interesting than having high tea with ladies who gossip or rattling around in a large house with not much to do," she replied with an unladylike shrug.

"Good point well made. No, I should not like your life very much at all," I laughed as I walked us back towards the house.

"I have brought you some of the last gooseberries from the garden in the hope that you could make some preserves with them," she said hopefully as we walked in through the back door and into the kitchen.

"I have never used gooseberries before," I mused as she placed the large basket on the table. I thought back to the small box of cards that mamma had given me and wondered if there was a recipe or two in there which could help me.

"I know, so how about you start with a few pies and crumbles? And then maybe you could move on to preserves once you know how they cook and taste?" she hedged as I walked to the pail and filled the kettle pot.

"Is this some other ruse to get me to attend the ball in the village this week?" I asked with a grin as I thought about how she was trying to wear me down.

"Well, there is that, but also, you are classed as an adult now, Isabella, and there are some things you need to experience, even if you dislike the idea of them. One of them of course is attending your first dance." Her tone was warm but firm and I did not like it much.

I turned away from the kettle on the stove and was slightly uncomfortable.

Lady Cullen, the pristine woman, was sitting in our small kitchen, on a rickety chair and all of a sudden, everything was out of place.

"Lady Cullen, I have far too much to do around here to attend some village ball where everyone will gossip about me or throw me looks of pity," I sighed as I finally sat down at the table.

"Sit with your back firm and your neck straight, Isabella," she said firmly and without even thinking, I complied with her wish.

"That is how you live the life I do. You walk with purpose, holding yourself in a manner that may well be uncomfortable, but it makes people take notice. You hold yourself in a way that makes people think twice about gossip. You hold your head high, with poise and determination," she smiled as I relaxed.

"A nice lesson, some would agree, but you know that I cannot walk around all day with my back straight and my head up high. Most of the time I am hunched over gates and fences, carrying pails with me and have my head down looking for eggs." I giggled as Lady Cullen, of all people, rolled her eyes at me.

"That is not the point of the matter, Isabella."

Before I could answer, Charles ran through the back door, towing Emmett with him.

"Bells, I'm hungry," he asked before he noticed that Lady Cullen was sat at the table.

Both of them removed their caps and bowed slightly before Emmett guided Charles back out of the door in which they'd come, muttering about getting Charles some food from Rosalie.

"He is growing nicely," she noted as the door shut.

"He is and he's very strong for his age," I smiled proudly. If all else failed, I knew that he was the one thing I could be proud of.

"Isabella, I must go now, but I would like to inform you that you will be going to the dance on Michaelmas, and I will have a dress provided for you. Mrs. Cope has already agreed to help you dress and sit with your mother and Charles will be staying the night with Master Emmett and his wife. We will be arriving here in a carriage at eight for you, and I expect you to be ready," she said with determination as she stood up and threw me a wink.

There was no way I could back out of this, even if I wanted to.

This was a direct order from a noble Lady, and I could not refuse.

As much as it griped me.

The rest of my evening consisted of the laundry and housekeeping and by the time I fell into bed, I was sure that I was already asleep.

Esme has put her foot down, which I love! And tomorrow's chapter is purely from Carlisle's POV, in which he has some big plans for Isabella (Esme might be scheming a little, too). LOL xxx