CHAPTER TWELVE

Mrs. Morton was still attending to her customer when Master Cullen exited from the dressing room. She thought it was odd that young Isabella Swan would need council from Mr. Cullen for a simple dress fitting but even though her feelings were still questionable when it came to the Cullens, Mrs. Morton told herself a lie to cease her mind from running away with itself. Mr. Cullen, after all was a gentleman and he would never take advantage of the young Swan girl.

"I will be right with Isabella, sir," She called out.

Master Cullen who was deep in his own thoughts nearly missed the interaction.

"Uh…that's fine. Carry on."

He walked toward the shop door and stepped outside. Master Cullen needed to clear his head. Once again, something happened and he was not entirely sure if what had conspired in the dressing room between Isabella and himself was the right thing. She had bothered him all morning, he told himself to justify the force he used. Isabella needed to understand how to follow rules and take direction without question.

Master Cullen placed his fist toward his mouth while he continued to ponder his actions. He knew deep down that he shouldn't have spoken to her in such a manner. He was confused. What was she to him? Where was this going to go? Did he really have feelings for the girl or was this just a means to a happy ending?

It became clear that Master Cullen's problem was not Isabella's insubordination but his problem was due to himself. He still wasn't quite sure what he wanted from her. He cared for her indeed but was there something more to that feeling? Was he merely using her for her body; her soft beautiful body?

Meanwhile, Isabella stared into the mirror hoping to catch a glimpse of the person she knew was slowly being trapped inside. Mrs. Morton continued to whip around her, pulling her out of dress after dress. She would attempt to ask Isabella for an opinion but stopped asking after she received, "its fine" for the third straight time in a row. Mrs. Morton wanted Isabella to be happy with her new wardrobe but in the end, she felt that as long as Mr. Cullen was happy, that was all that was needed. After all he was the head of the household.

Isabella was nearly as confused as Master Cullen. She knew that it was wrong to be physically entangled with her employer. Did it bother her that he spoke to her in such a controlling fashion? Oddly enough, it didn't because, it was who he was. She knew he would stop if she told him to and there was her problem. She didn't want him to stop. Every feeling she experienced was something that she yearned for. It was wrong! So very wrong! This was a man that on some levels she despised. He had made so very many mistakes and instead of closing her legs and opening her mouth to disparage him on those mistakes, she told him, "Thank you?"

Mrs. Morton had left with the pile of dresses leaving the blue one that Master Cullen had violated her in behind for her to wear. Isabella's focus turned from the mirror to the dress on its hanger. That damn dress, she thought.

"You are what is wrong with this world!" She whispered in contempt.

She began to contemplate what wearing this dress would mean. Its old style was made popular in a time when women had no rights and were belittled for their brains. Wearing this dress would mean that Isabella would give up her rights and her brains. The dress was shackles.

Isabella shook her head back and forth before jumping down from the small stage and pulling her old clothes back on. The dress would stay on that hanger, she decided. Mannish pants and sweaters were appropriate and Master Cullen would have to find a way to deal with her chosen attire when she was not on the clock.

Her heart started to pound as she exited the dressing room and could hear Mrs. Morton tell her master all about the different designs that looked lovely. Master Cullen was barely listening to a word she said as he focused his attention on the many boxes, Mrs. Morton was filling.

"As usual, I will see these are dropped off to your home later this evening and put it on your tab, sir."

Both their heads turned at the same moment to see Isabella standing outside the dressing area still wearing the clothes she came in with.

"Oh…dear, you were supposed to put on the dress. Why don't you just pop back in and change quickly. I'm sure you don't want to keep Mr. Cullen waiting any longer," Mrs. Morton advised.

Isabella took a breath in before replying. Already, Master Cullen knew her change of clothing wasn't a mistake but a message.

"Thank you, Mrs. Morton but I won't be wearing the dress tonight."

Master Cullen walked pointedly toward Isabella.

"Isabella, we can't go to dinner if you insist on wearing that."

She swallowed and steadied herself.

"Then…I suggest we should not go to dinner then."

Master Cullen's first inclination was to feel anger but he managed to keep his temper reminding himself that their earlier interaction may not have been handled well. Isabella was probably upset and now she wanted to prove something. This wasn't her fault, he told himself. He needed to be straight with her and explain his intentions.

"Mrs. Morton, please pack up the last dress and add it to the rest for this evening. Mr. Whitlock will be there to handle the delivery."

Mrs. Morton was not sure what was going on but she could not believe that a child of Charles Swan would act so disgracefully. She knew she would be overstepping but could not resist.

"Your father would turn in his grave if he could see you to act out in such a manner," Mrs. Morton shamed.

Isabella's mouth ran away from her before her mind could fully process the accusation.

"My father saw me in far more provocative clothing every single day for over twenty years and never showed me any unkindness for my choices. It seems to me that perhaps I knew him far better than you ever did," She spit.

Master Cullen grabbed Isabella's wrist and quickly turned back to Mrs. Morton. "Please see to my delivery. Thank you for your time, Mrs. Morton."

He rushed out of the shop pulling Isabella along after him. Isabella could feel the harsh pull of her wrist as she stumbled to keep up with the master's pace. There was so much more Isabella wanted to say to Mrs. Morton and Master Cullen now that she felt herself on roll.

Master Cullen passed his car and instead pulled Isabella down a small alley between the shops. He wasn't about to have this confrontation out in public. He dropped her wrist the moment they had arrived at his chosen destination and turned on her.

"What is the matter with you? You couldn't leave well enough alone…"

"She attacked me because I refused to wear that damn dress. Feed into the craziness of Haven! Eat whatever gruel that will turn me into some nineteenth century mindless idiot and then she presumes to know my father better than I do? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I don't know, Isabella, ask yourself just how well did you know your father? He never told you about any of this, did he? He grew up here and spent the majority of his life in Haven and yet never once did he tell you about it. Did you never wonder about his childhood? His parents? Your grandparents? Seems like you were a mindless idiot long before you ever came to Haven either that or you were just very self-absorbed."

Isabella felt her lips clapped shut tightly. She wasn't done with her rant but Master Cullen had made fair points and it disturbed her. How had she not learned about any of this from her father? How could he not have told her more, other than he lived on the east coast once upon a time? Something suddenly occurred to her however, she had never been given proof that her father resided here. Maybe this was all some great lie.

"I don't believe you," She replied softly.

"Believe what?" He snapped.

"This...that my father ever lived here. Perhaps you have the wrong Charles Swan. I mean, it's not that unusual of a name and maybe you have the wrong girl. You are pulling the wrong girl down your rabbit hole. A mistake has been made…"

Once again he grabbed her chin and lifted her head so her eyes met his.

"You have your father's eyes."

Isabella knew deep down that it was all true whether she wanted to believe it or not. But she didn't want to think that she was a mindless idiot or self-absorbed. A lie would be much more beneficial. She slowly shook her head and shut her eyes tightly.

"I don't believe it," she began to chant.

Master Cullen felt a rumble in his chest at her blindness. He let go of her chin and looked around for a moment to think about what he could do to help Isabella step into her new reality. Across the street was Newton's hardware store and that is when it hit him.

"If I show you proof, undeniable proof that your father was once a helm of the Haven community, will you then wear the dress?"

That damn dress, Isabella thought. It always came down to the dress.

"Let's say for a moment that I do believe you have the right Charles Swan and that my father really did live here at one time," Isabella began slowly. "Wouldn't it mean that with his hasty departure that he didn't want his future child to be a part of all this? Maybe he escaped because he wanted better for me?"

Master Cullen looked at her in disgust.

"He didn't escape from here. He was beloved and lived in one of the largest estates around. He only left because he began his pen pal relations with your mother and eventually she asked him to come out to Washington to live there so they could get married. He never wanted to leave but he was in love so he told my father that he must go. You still don't get it. You look around and see a group of depraved people who are far off worse than you because they live differently than you have."

He looked out toward the street and took a hold of Isabella's shoulders. "Come here. I want you to see something."

He steered her toward the mouth of the ally and stopped just shy of the opening.

"Look at the people. Do they look unhappy? Or unfulfilled?"

Isabella watched as a young boy dressed in another odd outfit ran out from his mother toward a young woman standing outside a candy and treat shop. The women were all dressed similar to the dresses that Isabella had just been wrestled into. The men and women walking about the streets all seemed to be happy and in good spirits even if they were living in a period of time that was long forgotten. The people greeted one another as they passed and it was completely unlike anything Isabella had ever been exposed to. In Seattle, people rarely paid attention to one another and instead focused their eyes on the small rectangular object in their hands that would bring them the latest updates and calls.

"You really think you're better that they are? Happier? Even before you came to Haven, could you tell me that honestly you are more fulfilled than say that woman over there or that young man standing there?" He pointed at the different people and Isabella knew what he was getting at. It would be awfully presumptuous of her to say yes to his question. She didn't know any of these people and to say she was happier because she had been exposed to technology or pants was incredibly judgmental.

Isabella didn't answer so instead she began to form a story in her mind where this odd behavior was acceptable. Amish people lived like this and she never had a problem with how they choose to live their lives. Haven was Amish country. The residents here just lived in fancy houses and didn't work on farms or attend church. Wearing the dress would be like living with an Amish family. She could still keep her mind and ideas.

"Do you want me to show you proof?" Master Cullen asked her once more.

"Yes," Isabella softly replied.

"Okay. But then I want something from you in return. If I take you and give you undeniable proof that your father was who I say he was, then I want you to change into the dress so that you may accompany me to dinner."

Isabella swallowed. Amish dress. Blending in with an Amish family, she told herself.

"Fine," She agreed.

Master Cullen had no idea what was going on in her head but for her to accept the dress willingly, it made him feel a victory coming on. Master Cullen looked Isabella over once more and closed his eyes to locate the memory of her in the blue dress. After his private short moment he walked out of the ally and listened for her following footsteps. He stopped in front of his car and unlocked the door for Isabella.

"Why don't you wait in the car. I'm sure I couldn't handle another embarrassing outburst from you. I'll be back."

Isabella situated herself in the car while she watched as Master Cullen once again entered the dress shop. She breathed out a long sigh looking around the beautiful car. Amish country, she tried to remind herself.

"Non-religious, fancy Amish people," She said to herself.

Master Cullen emerged from the store with a box in his arms and placed the box in the back seat before he slide into the driver's spot.

"Proof and then the dress." He reminded her of their agreement.

He started up the Bentley and pulled out of the spot with ease. He drove for only two minutes until they came to this old Victorian mansion just on the outskirts of the main town thoroughfare. In front of the mansion was a sign stating, "Haven Historical Society."

Master Cullen exited the car and wasn't quick enough to help Isabella with her door or out of her seat and Isabella was happier for it. They walked up the long brick pathway to the front door and Master Cullen pushed the door open and entered without invitation.

"Mr. Newton," He called out.

A younger man who looked to be no older than twenty-five came rushing down the wide wooden staircase.

"Mr. Cullen," He paused when he saw who was calling. "Uh…what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Mr. Newton, this is Isabella Swan. She is new to town and I was hoping to show her some of her histories."

Mr. Newton's face turned red looking over Isabella. She was oddly dressed, he thought but so beautiful. His breath caught in his throat and he continued down the stairs slowly.

"Miss Swan. I heard you just arrived. I am honored. My family were great friends with your father and your family," He held out a hand to greet Isabella but before Isabella could take a step forward and shake the young man's hand, Master Cullen interceded.

"She is happy to meet you. The Swan room if you will," Master Cullen snapped. "We are in a hurry. We want to make dinner this evening."

Mr. Newton straightened himself out and lowered his eyes to the floor before walking toward the left.

"You didn't need to be rude. He was just trying to be polite, something you informed me was so wonderful about living in ancient Haven," Isabella whispered.

"He wasn't trying to be polite. He was acting like a horny teenager," Master Cullen said back.

Mr. Newton stopped in front a large door. "Here we are, sir. Take your time."

Master Cullen waited for Isabella to enter before he followed her in.

"Many of the items you will find in this room are from your ancestors, donated from your father before he left. There are some pictures and paintings, as far as I know; all of them are related to you in some form or another."

Isabella began to walk around the room and marvel at the old artifacts. She looked at the paintings that hung on the wall and was impressed however; there was nothing that showed her that Charles Swan, her father Charles Swan had ever lived there.

"I still don't see any proof…as amazing as all of this is."

Master Cullen walked over toward the window and pulled out a book from the shelf. He placed it down on one of the glass cabinets and began flipping through the pages.

"Come here," He gently ordered.

Isabella walked forward and watched as the pages passed. Old photographs that had gone back nearly a hundred years ago. Each page forward, the photographs were certainly becoming newer and modern even if the people in the photos still dressed the same.

"This was your grandfather. Do you see the similarities between him and your father?" Master Cullen asked.

Isabella could see it but it wasn't enough.

"It doesn't prove anything."

Master Cullen went to flip to the next page but his hand stalled for a moment. He didn't turn the page.

"Isabella. I'm not lying to you. I know you honestly believe me but if you feel it's better to remain ignorant then you don't have to turn the page." He paused. "However, if you want the truth and dare to seek it, all you have to do is be brave enough to see what is on it. I will leave you to make this decision on your own. I will be right back."

He turned and walked out of the room, his steps echoing on the wooden floors throughout the house. He knew Isabella had a great decision to make but he knew she would choose the right one in the end. She was much too smart to want to remain ignorant so Master Cullen headed to the car to retrieve the dress she would need for dinner.

Isabella stood in the same spot for over a minute going back and forth in her mind on what she was going to do. She knew she would need to flip that page but felt turmoil building inside her because once that page was turned and she saw her father staring back at her, it would shatter any illusion of the life she had.

Her fingers turned the page and instead of feeling the hopelessness that she thought she would feel, she felt complete and utter fury. How could he do this? How had her father neglected to share such a huge important fact of his life? Her father was dressed in a suit from head to toe standing next to an older woman who was dressed in the very clothes she had just tried on.

Her hands were balled into fists as she stood over the photo album and took in the picture. She hadn't even noticed she was crying until water drops began to appear on the photo of her two-faced father.

"Are you alright, miss?"

Isabella looked up and saw Mr. Newton standing before her.

"This doesn't make any sense. My father wasn't like this. Ever! He never once told me to wear dresses and speak only when spoken to. He praised me on my forward thinking ideas and wanted greater things for me. This man here…is not my father. Hell, he used to call the people who reenacted renaissance fairs, freaks. He watched football in his barker lounger every Sunday and Monday. He would use a cell phone and internet. So what was all that then? Did he just think that the part of his life that included all that and me was his own Rumspringa?"

Mr. Newton didn't know what to make of Isabella's fit but he felt the need to hold her and hug her as he watched the tears slowly trail down her face.

"I don't know…I'm not really sure what you're talking about," He tried to console.

"I don't know what I'm talking about. I don't even know who I am anymore," Isabella replied dejectedly looking back down at the man in the picture who looked exactly like the man she once called, dad.

"I think your father…" Mr. Newton bit his lip. "I think he left because of the curse. Maybe he never wanted you to be cursed too."

Isabella looked up from the photo album.

"Curse? What curse?"

Mr. Newton walked a couple paces forward and spoke softly. "The one that was started between the Cullens and the Swans when Haven was first founded."

Isabella didn't believe in supernatural occurrences but it didn't mean she wasn't interested in hearing what Mr. Newton had to say.

"Please go on, Mr. Newton."

Mr. Newton paused looking around slowly before continuing.

"Along time ago…"

"Mr. Newton," Master Cullen barked, "I thought I told you to leave the girl alone."

On the way to his car to retrieve the dress, Master Cullen made it quite clear that Mr. Newton was to not speak to Isabella. Mr. Newton felt his heart stop. He looked into Isabella's eyes fearfully and turned to leave abruptly from the room.

"Why would you tell him to leave me alone? He wasn't bothering me."

"You're crying. Seems he was," Master Cullen replied.

"I'm crying because I'm upset. I…I'm angry. My head hurts and I want to lie down. I…I want to go away from here. Far, far away from here."

Master Cullen walked forward and held the blue dress out to her.

"Why don't you change? Your head hurts because you're hungry. Let us go to dinner and see if any explanations I can give will ease your pain."

Isabella looked at the dress and sighed. She had made a promise so it was her turn to keep up her end of the deal. Master Cullen showed her to the first floor bathroom and waited outside for her ensuring that Mr. Newton would not have another stolen minute alone with his Isabella.

Isabella thought long and hard on what she now knew was truth. She undressed herself slowly and picked up the heavy blue dress from the sink. Her hands slid over the material as she felt the weight of her decision to wear it. With one last look in the mirror, Isabella pulled the dress over her head and allowed her hands and arms to fill the long sleeves.

She stared at herself in the mirror as her fingers found the buttons up the back. Her hair would need some work. She was hardly presentable in just the dress alone. Thankfully, there was a small bowl of bobby pins off to the side of the sink. After Isabella's hands finished with the buttons, she then started on her hair.

Dutifully, Isabella worked her hair into a tight bun and smoothed out any stray hairs. She finished in a short amount of time and then without another thought, she gathered up the sweater and slacks she had worn and tossed them into the trash bin.

For the better part of the day, Isabella kept telling herself that she was a part of an Amish experience. It was the lie to get her through but as Isabella stared at her new self in the mirror, the image of her father's picture popped up into her head and her Amish lie would not suffice anymore.

Isabella adjusted her posture, held her head up high and walked toward the door. She was met with Master Cullen waiting just outside it. He took in her full appearance and was speechless at the transformation. He wanted to tell her how lovely she looked but he could not even find those simple true words. It was in that moment he knew exactly what Isabella meant to him. She was not some passing fancy. Isabella was made for him.

"I'm ready."

Isabella's words were said somberly because she did not merely mean that she was ready to leave. Isabella was ready to become her father's daughter. Master Cullen held out his arm toward her and bowed slightly. Isabella accepted and like her old discarded clothing in the bathroom trash bin, she left a piece of herself behind as well.

AN: Thank you for reading and reviewing!

A few housekeeping things. First, I'm not sure if I will update next week as I am going to try and finish my other story Definition of Love. So I apologize in advance.

Second: Thank you for everyone who voted for The Governess, it has made it to the second round of Fanfics Multifandom Awards. The Governess has been nominated for Favorite Undiscovered Fanfic If you would like to vote, type into a search engine, Fanatics Fanfics Awards and it will pop up. Once again thank you soo much for your continued support!

And finally, I will no longer be accepting negative guest reviews unless they are constructive criticism. My feeling is if you want to be nasty and call me names then the least you can do is have a backbone to put a name on it. I am not some tween you can attempt to cyber bully. I am a grown woman and any person who is mature enough to leave a nasty review can have the decency to put a name on it. If it makes you feel better, there is no way for anyone to trace your whereabouts through a Fanfiction name so your anonymity will still be protected.

Disclaimer: Story is mine, characters belong to Stephanie Meyer.