On Becoming a Countess
A future-take of A Scrapbook of Memories
Written for the Babies at the Border fundraiser compilation
Summary: After a whirlwind romance, Bella prepares to marry the love of her life, Earl Edward, son of the Duke of Sussex.
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer and Summit own the rights to the Twilight franchise and its affiliates. These words, however, are the product of my own imagination. No copyright infringement intended, but also, please don't copy as your own.
Additional disclaimer: I wrote A Scrapbook of Memoriesin 2010, long before Prince Harry and Meghan Markle even met. Prince William and Kate weren't even engaged back then. At that time, the Duchy of Sussex was vacant, so I used it in the story. Suffice it to say, since the royal wedding took place last May, I am using creative license here. Also, because of the timeline, this story starts in the autumn of 2009.
Author's note: This compilation is intended to raise funds in order help families that have been separated at the US border while seeking asylum. I wrote this story as I was inspired by the recent royal wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, and want to offer a fairytale-like escape from the harshness of present-day atrocities. Please enjoy it for its intended purpose.
Missrebecca beta'd this story and also made the gorgeous banner. For this banner, as well as other useful links, please see my blog (link in profile).
~o.O.o~
The Duke and Duchess of Sussex are delighted to announce the engagement of Lord Edward, Earl of Sussex, to Ms. Isabella Swan.
The wedding will take place in the spring of 2010, with further details to be announced in due course.
His Lordship and Ms. Swan became engaged in Rome last month. Lord Edward has informed His Grace the Duke of Sussex, Her Grace the Duchess of Sussex, and other close members of his family. He has also sought and received the blessing of Ms. Swan's parents.
The couple will live in their London apartment.
I look at the announcement in the Sunday paper, which is also my place of employment. There is a lovely picture of myself and Edward included, taken at his parents' estate a few days after we got back from Rome. The announcement was coordinated by Edward's family press agent Victoria, and kept tightly under wraps, especially within the Times offices.
"You're awfully quiet," Edward's voice brings me back to the present. "Is something wrong?"
"Just… thinking," I say, snuggling back into his embrace after putting the paper aside.
"Care to share?"
"This announcement," I start, motioning towards the discarded newspaper, "makes it all the more real. Like, I'm not just marrying you; I'm marrying your title as well. That means our wedding will be in the public eye. It's just a lot to process, I guess."
He's thoughtful for a moment, gently stroking his fingers up and down my arm as he says, "But you've been in the public eye basically since we met. What makes this different?"
"I think it's all the expectation that comes with a wedding like this. I mean, the protocol, the press…"
"We don't have to allow the press access if you're not comfortable with it," Edward promises. "And there won't be as strict a protocol as with a royal wedding."
"What do you mean? I thought we'd have to, since you're related to the Queen."
"Not close enough to warrant a royal wedding, love. My great-great-grandfather was the Queen's grandfather. We descent from one of her uncles. I don't even know how far down the line we are for the throne, so you don't have to worry about it at all," he explains, which cheers me up considerably. "Now," he continues, "if William ever gets his head out of his arse and proposes to Kate, that will be quite the spectacle. But we can have a fairly private wedding, if that's what you prefer. We can just put out a press release and provide some photos afterwards."
"Do you promise?"
"Anything for you," he says, and seals it with a tender kiss. "That's enough wedding talk for now. I think it's time for a distraction."
And distract me he does for the rest of the morning. Thoroughly.
~o.O.o~
Alice narrowly beats my mom in calling once she's seen the announcement. I suspect some specialised online search algorithm notification and speed dial are involved.
"Oh Bella, this is so exciting!" she all but squeals once I've picked up my phone. "Of course you already told me you're engaged, but an official announcement like this is just so… formal! Please tell me you'll let me design your wedding dress!"
"Who else would I ask?" I reply, laughing.
Her excitement is infectious, and she spends the next few minutes rattling off ideas as they pop into her head. Then my phone beeps, alerting me to another incoming call.
"Hey Alice, can I call you back? My mom's on the other line."
"Sure hon, I'll get to sketching, so we can flesh out some ideas when you're here in two weeks. Love you!"
I smile at her exuberance as I disconnect the call and accept the new one.
"Hi mom!"
"I just saw the announcement," she starts, in typical Renee style starting in the middle of a conversation. "Esme e-mailed it to me this morning. Can you believe I'm on a first name basis with an actual Duchess?" she gushes.
"Not to mention you'll have an Earl for a son-in-law," I quip.
"Oh! And you'll be a… uhm… what exactly?"
"A Countess, mom," I remind her indulgently.
"A Countess," she sighs. "Imagine that, my daughter with such a fancy title. Who would've thought that when this kindergarten teacher married a small-town cop?"
I let her indulge in her romantic musings for a bit. The rest of the call is spent gushing over the upcoming wedding, or rather, my mother gushes while I listen. I promise to have some preliminary plans in the works to discuss further during our visit over Halloween, though.
~o.O.o~
Rosalie introduces me to a wonderful wedding planner, Gianna Fiorentina, who also did her wedding. Esme is proving to be a great help as well, and I find myself calling on her quite a bit, in particular in regard to certain rules we'll have to follow. For instance, although neither of us is very religious, British nobility is required to have a Church of England ceremony. This also means we'll have to find a vicar and a suitable venue. Esme helpfully suggests their local vicar, who has also christened both Edward and Elizabeth. Edward is agreeable, and I honestly have no opinion on the matter, so we ask Gianna to set up a meeting with Father Marcus for late November. He sends over some "helpful documentation that will ease your planning", according to his e-mail. I decide we can peruse it during our flight to Seattle.
~o.O.o~
One of the perks of being part of British nobility is flying first class. I very much appreciate the extra room and upgraded refreshments. After the flight attendant brings us our complimentary glasses of champagne, I pull out the printed copy of the information Father Marcus sent us. Edward's eyes widen comically at its size. There is quite a lot of information, I must agree.
"We don't have to read through all of it now," I say in reassurance. "Father Marcus included a list of things for us to decide," I continue, pulling out the page in question.
Edward takes it from me and scans the list for a moment. It mentions entry and exit music, several hymns, as well as readings and a prayer or two.
"Who knew there was so much involved in a church wedding, right?" he comments, chuckling. "I don't know about you, but I'm not really looking forward to a very religious service."
I breathe a sigh of relief at his confession, because it matches my own feelings.
"Well, there's also a list included of suggestions for prayers and readings," I suggest. "Perhaps there's already something there that's not overly religious that we'll like. That would save us a lot of searching."
Using the airplane Wi-Fi, Edward looks up several suggestions listed, and we choose a prayer and two readings that we like, deciding to leave the rest for later.
~o.O.o~
Our visit to the States is great. We're staying at my father's house, opting for a laidback feeling instead of some fancy hotel. Also, the closest thing to a fancy hotel is in Port Angeles, and that would be quite the hassle. My father did arrange for a security detail around the house, made up of a few of his officers as well as some of the young men from the nearby Quileute reservation. According to my father, they have organised themselves into a kind of semi-professional neighbourhood watch, and this assignment will look great on their résumés. I'm not one to object, though I doubt all the security is really necessary.
~o.O.o~
In true Alice fashion, she has organised an unofficial engagement party for us at her parents' house. It's not a lavish affair; just herself and Jasper, her parents, Angela and her boyfriend Ben, my father and his girlfriend Sue, and a few people from high school and college. The big surprise is that she got my mother and Phil to fly in, and my mother didn't give anything away during our last phone call, which is a feat in and of itself. The only people missing from our group of friends are Rosalie and Emmett, but they'll be at the official engagement party Gianna is organizing with Esme.
Alice had told us not to worry about costumes, just to provide her with our sizes. As long as I can remember, she has prided herself in finding outfits that go well with the person and the occasion, so I didn't even bat an eye at her instructions. The day of the party she dropped of our costumes and accessories. For a moment, I had been worried she'd dress us up as Cinderella and Prince Charming, which would've been a bit too cliché given the circumstances. Thankfully, she chose a rather stylish noble couple for us. She really outdid herself, though I wouldn't expect anything less than perfection from her by now. Edward is dressed in impressive looking armour with a luxurious velvet cape. In contrast, the dress she chose for me is soft and elegant, and almost an exact replica of the one Keira Knightley wore in King Arthur.
"Are you supposed to be Arthur or Lancelot?" I ask, half-joking, half-teasing.
"Arthur, of course," he replies almost indignantly. "Lancelot didn't have a cape like this, and no matter what, Guinevere always chose Arthur."
"Well, no matter what," I mimic, "tonight you're my knight and king."
Mark, my father's deputy, escorts us to the Brandons'. I'm glad I could talk him out of taking the cruiser; we're using our luxury rental car instead. When we pull up, there are already some children trick-or-treating down the street. The front lawn is tastefully decorated with ghostly figures and jack-o-lanterns, setting a spooky yet somehow classy mood. Deciding it'd be rude to send Mark off to wait for us somewhere, I invite him in for a (non-alcoholic, since he's on the clock) drink or two.
The figure answering the door is dressed in flowing white robes and a luxurious wig that rivals my own long, dark hair, and it takes me a moment to recognise it's Alice. She truly looks as ethereal as the elven princess she's portraying.
"Wow, Alice, you look amazing!" I exclaim as she envelopes me in an excited hug.
"Thank you! You'll get a kick out of Jasper, he's bringing ruggedly handsome to a whole new level," she replies, ushering us inside. "Everyone is here already. Let's go in."
She quickly puts our coats away and guides us into the living room, where there's an assortment of various famous couples. Being the hosts of the evening, Mr. and Mrs. Brandon quickly make their way over to us in greeting. They're dressed as Bonnie and Clyde, which I think is a very stylish costume for them.
Mrs. Brandon manages quite a decent curtsey, murmuring a "milord" when greeting Edward. She then pulls me into a fierce hug and tells me how happy she is for me.
"How was my curtsey?" she whispers in my ear. "I googled it."
Hers is better than my first curtsey was, and I don't hesitate to tell her. I'm glad, however, when Edward immediately tells everyone to drop the rigid etiquette, since we're at an informal gathering of friends.
"During this visit, I simply want to be Bella's fiancé, not an Earl or Lord Sussex. Please, just call me Edward," he urges everyone.
My mother then eagerly rushes over, her short blonde wig bouncing in tandem with her classic and flirty dress. It's a surprising change from her usual more hippie-like attire and gives me hope that she'll be comfortable in the more formal dress code for our wedding.
"Surprise!" she exclaims, before pulling me in for a hug. "When Alice called me I just couldn't decline the invite. We'll have to make sure to get some girl time in while we're both in town!"
Phil is much calmer in his greetings, as I've come to know him. He's very mellow, and a stark contrast to my mother's exuberant personality. His costume doesn't deviate from his near-daily attire, although this time he's wearing a vintage looking Yankees uniform. He's followed closely by my father, dressed like Captain America. I'm glad to see he's getting along with Phil, because I'm hoping to get the two of them to entertain Edward while I'm out with my mother. Sue looks very fierce as Black Widow, especially since she's such a kind-hearted woman.
Once the parents have greeted us, Mrs. Brandon makes sure we all have a glass of champagne in our hands as Mr. Brandon makes a toast.
"I just wanted to say that Cynthia and I are honoured to host this party and to be able to celebrate Bella and Edward. Bella has always been like a second daughter to us, and we couldn't be happier for her. Our daughter Alice has worked very hard to organise this evening, so please give her a round of applause."
Everyone obliges, of course, and Alice steps forward, smiling brightly at the praise.
"I'm sure I speak for everyone here when I say that we are looking forward to the wedding and wish Bella and Edward all the best. Please raise your glasses to the lovely couple!"
Everyone raises their glass and choruses of "to Bella and Edward" and "congratulations" ring out. Having attended several formal functions with Edward over the last year, I have learned to smile and nod graciously, where previously I would have blushed and tried to hide, but I'm still glad the spotlight is only on us for this speech.
With the formalities out of the way, Jasper turns up the music. We mingle among the guests, catching up and having fun. The women fawn over my sapphire and diamond engagement ring, as was to be expected. Angela and Ben, dressed as Catwoman and Batman, came down from Seattle, and I enjoy spending time with my soft-spoken friend again. Every once in a while, a group of kids shows up to trick-or-treat, and Alice or her mother take the large bowl set up for that purpose to the front door. Not usually one to gossip, Angela is quite happy to share some juicy bits of information about Jessica, Mike, and Tanya. Apparently, Jessica had Mike's baby over the summer, and they are still living together, but that doesn't stop Mike from sleeping around on her. Including with her supposed best friend, Tanya. I actually feel a bit sorry for the baby. It didn't choose to be born into that messed up situation. Angela sees my conflicted expression, and quickly changes the subject, thankfully. I'm much more interested to hear about Ben's job and her graduate research, anyway.
~o.O.o~
Mark drops us off at my father's house, where I notice another one of my father's officers keeping watch from a car parked across the street. I smile at him before saying goodnight to Mark and going inside.
When we left the Brandons', I was quite tired from the evening's events, but now that we're alone, that changes. Edward seamlessly picks up on the change in my mood.
"Something on your mind, love?" he asks, a smile in his voice.
Turning the lock on the front door, I smile at him, then trail my hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders.
"Just remembering that we've got the house to ourselves tonight," I reply. "Since Dad is at Sue's."
"Is that so? Well, I'm actually remembering something else entirely right now," he replies, his eyes hooded as he licks his lips. At my questioning look, he elaborates, "About this time last year, we got home from Tiger Tiger..."
Memories of that night flood me. Walking up the stairs to the apartment, arms around each other, his breath hot on my neck. Stumbling through the front door, nearly tumbling onto the sofa. Lips tasting, hands groping.
"That was the night you told me you wanted me," I whisper.
He kisses me, deeply, hungrily.
"I still want you just as much," he confesses.
I start pulling him up the stairs, eager to get to our bedroom. Edward is quick to kick the door closed, his hands diving into my hair, pulling my mouth to his again.
"How has it been only a year?" he murmurs against my lips.
I know the feeling; it's feels like we've known each other much longer than that. Working to undo his armour, I hum in pleasure as his mouth trails down my neck. The slightly scratchy feel of his scruff transports me back to that night again, when I first felt it against my skin. We had stumbled through the apartment, impatient to rid ourselves of our costumes, much like we are now.
"You were very set on showering that night, though," he reminds me with a smirk, to which I playfully swat at his chest.
"I was covered in fake blood! And I seem to recall you didn't much mind the invitation to join me."
Finally, I manage to get his armour off. Edward kicks off his boots while I work his shirt over his head. When his arms are free of the fabric, he pushes my dress of my shoulders. It pools at my feet, leaving me in the dark blue bra and panty set I know Edward loves to take off me. He groans audibly, biting his lip at the sight, and I relish in the powerful feeling. He's hungry for me, and I must admit that I ache for him, too. He pulls me close again, his arm around my waist and one hand cupping my face. The hand around my waist creeps up, snapping my bra closure and pulling the delicate garment from my body. His fingers dance up and to the front, cupping my breast and eliciting a moan from me. With the way our bodies are pressed together, I can feel how hard and ready he is. And I am more than ready for him. Breaking our kiss, I pull away from him with quite a bit of effort. I shimmy out of my panties and crawl onto the small double bed, beckoning Edward to join me. He's quick to shed his underwear, and I can't help but lick my lips at the sight of him. He's tall, toned, and all mine. His cock stands proudly at attention. He pumps it in his fist a few times while giving me a cocky grin. He doesn't keep me waiting too long, though, as he crawls over me, pushing me back against the pillow and nestling between my legs. He sinks into me and I gasp at the feeling. His tongue delves into my mouth, claiming it as he claims my body as his. He stills when he is fully inside, his hips flush against mine.
"Happy anniversary, love," he whispers.
"I love you," is my reply.
Then I tilt my hips, encouraging him to start moving, and we lose ourselves in each other.
~o.O.o~
A few days after the Halloween party, I meet up with Alice at her parents' house. She's set up a design studio of sorts in her old room, with fabric swatches and sketchbooks laid out on the desk. Mrs. Brandon is kind enough to bring us tea and cookies, and we sit back and relax for a bit first.
"So, did you have fun with your mom yesterday?" Alice asks.
"Yes, we went for lunch and got our nails done. It was nice to just spend some time with her, because she's not able to come over to London often, you know?"
Alice nods in understanding and puts her hand over mine briefly, squeezing it reassuringly.
"That's also one of the reasons I wanted to involve her in the wedding some more, so I asked her to do one of the readings."
"She'd love that, I'm sure."
"Yeah, she was very excited and wanted to start browsing for something to read," I say, laughing. "I hated to burst her bubble and tell her we had already chosen the readings."
Alice raises her mug of tea in a toast to that.
Reminding myself to be a good friend, and that not everything revolves around my wedding, I make it a point to shift the conversation to Alice.
"How are you two getting on in New York?" I ask her.
She and Jasper moved to New York City after graduation, since Alice landed a coveted junior designer job at Betsey Johnson. I imagine it must be quite a change from Seattle, so I'm eager to hear how things are going.
"Oh, it's been great! Our apartment is tiny, of course, with the rents in Manhattan, but it's the perfect location for us. Like, it takes Jazz about the same time on the subway to get to Columbia as it takes me to walk to the office, and if we want to eat out, there are tons of cute places right around the corner."
We chat some more about Jasper's experience at law school and life in New York in general, and Alice shows me some of the things she's worked on for Betsey Johnson, before we get down to business.
"Have you had any thought about what kind of wedding you'll have?" she asks.
"Well, it's definitely going to be a Church of England wedding, so my dress can't be too revealing," I start, while she takes notes. "We don't have a venue yet, but I imagine it'll be something old and grand."
"Oh, are you thinking you might like a ball gown?" she asks excitedly, but I'm quick to shake my head.
"While that'd be suitable for such a venue, I think that would be too much dress for me. But I wouldn't want a dress as slinky as Rosalie's either, I think. That's not really my style."
"Don't you worry, sweetie. I'll hook you up."
She gets to sketching, asking for my opinion about certain options for details, colours and fabrics. It's quite a privilege to be able to have your best friend design your wedding dress. She knows my taste and what works with my body type. So far, I really like what she's coming up with.
"Are they okay with you doing an independent assignment? You know, at work?" I ask her.
"Oh honey, between you and Rosalie, I may be able to have my own line well before I'm thirty!" she exclaims, giggling. "But to answer your question, Ms. Johnson was very happy for me when I ran it by her, and she's thrilled that her name will at least be somewhat linked to it, since you'll have to mention the company in any communication about the dress. Oh, and she insists that you come by the office for your next fitting."
I don't mind agreeing to that, as long as I get my dream dress and Alice can add it to her design portfolio. And what girl wouldn't want to get married in a beautiful gown designed by her best friend? It makes it even more personal, and I'm extremely happy I can include her in the wedding in this way.
~o.O.o~
Our trip is over all too soon, and before we know it, we're back in London and back to business. My first week back brings with it a full schedule of theatre visits, both major productions as well as a few smaller scale events. One of the perks of my job is that sometimes I can request a second ticket, so Edward or a friend can accompany me. It's a good way for us to spend more time together. In addition to our job obligations, we have appointments with Gianna and Father Marcus lined up to further discuss the wedding.
As expected, Gianna has drawn up a list of suitably grand wedding venues in Sussex. We turn down several stately manors, simply for lack of a chapel on-site, since we decided that we don't want to shuttle between locations on the day. This narrows down the search considerably, and Gianna ends up setting up visits to three venues over the next two weeks. We make sure to include time at Edward's parents' estate during that time as well.
We visit Buckhurst Park, Castle Goring, and Brighton College. All three venues are historic buildings, boasting exclusive use of the premises throughout the day, and a suitably noble setting for the wedding of the son of a Duke. In the end, we settle on Castle Goring. There's just something about it that speaks to both of us, with its grand staircases, circular driveway and sweeping gardens. Gianna is efficient in having the details ironed out and the necessary forms signed. We inform Father Marcus, who is pleased at our choice, never having had the pleasure of performing a service at the charming on-site chapel before.
Father Marcus is a lovely old man with a bit of a grandfatherly feel to him. He's not disappointed when we explain that we don't want an overly religious service. On the contrary, he's happy to oblige us and only include the minimally required prayers and such.
"Young people these days cannot be expected to be as committed to the Church as previous generations," he explains. "I'm glad that you are following tradition in this regard, though. And we can modernise it to a certain extent, of course. So, my dears, have you given any thoughts to the music and readings you'd like included?" he asks, opening his notebook to a fresh page.
Edward gestures for me to start, so I pull out the list we settled upon.
"We've asked my mother to read verses ten thru thirteen from chapter two of the Song of Solomon, and Edward's sister to read Shakespeare's Sonnet 116," I announce, to which Father Marcus nods.
"We've also decided on our witnesses," Edward adds.
Both Father Marcus and Gianna look eager to take down these important names. We provide them with Emmett's and Rosalie's full names and titles, since they will also have to be mentioned on the marriage certificate.
"And what about music?" Gianna asks.
"Well, we've got some ideas about our entry and exit music, but we're still stuck on the hymns," Edward admits, passing her our list of choices.
"My parish has an excellent choir," Father Marcus offers. "If you'd like, I can ask the conductor to send over some samples and a list of hymns."
We nod our ascent, and Gianna gives him a business card to forward to the conductor.
~o.O.o~
The second weekend of December, we travel down to Sussex for the engagement party which Esme organised and is hosting. My parents, as well as Alice and Jasper, have flown in for the occasion. This engagement party is much fancier than the one Alice organised, but also much more formal. Edward is dressed in a tuxedo, which I cannot wait to peel off him later, while I'm in a burgundy evening gown with off-the-shoulder straps and a modest V-neckline. We make our official entrance once all the guests have arrived. They all raise their glasses in a toast to us, and we oblige them by kissing chastely at the top of the stairs. We then spend the next hour greeting all the guests and accepting their congratulations.
I'm caught a bit off guard when Edward introduces me to the Earl and Countess of York. For the moment I have to curtsey to them, although I'll be of equal rank to them after our wedding.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, milord, milady," I greet them.
"The pleasure is all mine," the Earl insists, smiling at me kindly.
"The Earl and Countess are old friends of my parents," Edward explains, catching on to my curiosity.
"Yes, indeed," the Countess adds. "And we couldn't be happier for the two of you. You make such a lovely pair, my dear."
Any awkwardness I may have initially felt at meeting Lauren's parents quickly dissipates with the ease of polite conversation. They appear genuinely interested and never once bring up Edward's past relationship with their daughter. I find myself quite enjoying their company and can understand why Esme invited them.
That is, until Lauren herself appears, moving to stand next to her father.
"Edward, Isabella, congratulations," she says through a fake smile. Because Edward is of higher rank, she bobs a curtsey his way. I hate that she still outranks me, forcing me to show her that respect. However, since meeting Edward I have perfected my fake smile to such levels that only Edward, Alice and Rosalie can tell the difference.
"Lady Lauren, how wonderful of you to attend," I say in greeting while I feel Edward's arm slide around my waist.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she bites out. "This soirée and your wedding are shaping up to be the social events of the year."
I manage not to roll my eyes at her backhanded compliment. Of course, that would matter to her, being seen at a prestigious event, surrounded by the who's who of British society.
After some more small talk, during which I try my hardest to ignore Lauren, Edward steers us away toward other guests waiting to talk to us. Taking the opportunity, I pull him into the hallway and find a semi-private corner.
"What's wrong, love?" he asks, picking up on my frustration.
"I understand that her parents were invited, but did your mother have to invite Lauren?"
"You didn't know?" he asks, surprised.
"No. I didn't think to go over the guest list with her. I just gave her the details of who I wanted to invite."
He rubs my arms soothingly. "I'm sorry, love, that must have been quite a shock, then."
"You knew?"
"No, I wasn't aware of the final guest list. But I'm not surprised she invited them. Like I said, they're old family friends, and it would be poor form not to invite them."
"Will they be at the wedding, too?" I ask carefully.
"I'm afraid this instance is part of the etiquette we cannot avoid, sweetheart. But you won't have to socialise with Lauren if you don't want to."
"I don't mind her parents," I admit. "But I hate that she'll be at our wedding. I mean, you were engaged to her! It's terribly uncomfortable..."
"You're right," he concedes. "But we can't not invite them. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, though?"
I think on that for a moment, before I spy Lauren coming into the hallway from the corner of my eye.
"Two things," I say, decidedly.
"Name them."
"One: please make sure you're never alone with her. I trust you implicitly," I remind him when he's about to comment. "Her, on the other hand, I don't trust as far as I can throw her."
"Done," he says, smiling. "What's the other thing?"
"A kiss always helps," I say, looking up at him seductively.
He doesn't hesitate, and his lips eagerly crash into mine, one hand delving into my hair as the other slides down to my hip. He leans into me, laying claim to me, his body pushing mine against the wall behind me. For a few moments I forget that we're the guests of honour at this lavish party, and that I'm at least slightly annoyed by Lauren's presence. During those moments I'm just a young woman enjoying the love and lust pouring out of her fiancé. Eventually, Edward pulls back, breathing heavily.
"Let's get back to our guests, shall we?"
We find Rosalie and Emmett, as well as both their parents, and engage in polite conversation with them. After exchanging some pleasantries, we pull our friends aside, having something important to ask of them.
"So, how is the wedding planning going?" Rosalie asks.
"Quite well, actually," I reply. "Gianna is amazing. She picks up on our input and what we like and sets it in motion. I don't even have to keep a checklist, because she reminds me whenever something needs to be done or decided. Thank you for recommending her."
"You're very welcome, honey. I know she was the reason our wedding went off so beautifully."
"Speaking of weddings," Edward interjects, to which we all laugh. "We have something to ask you both."
They turn to us expectantly, although I suspect they must have some idea as to our question.
"Emmett, would you be my witness and best man?" Edward asks.
Emmett smiles broadly and embraces Edward in one of those manly, one-armed hugs.
"Of course, mate! I'd be honoured! Anything in particular you'd like me to arrange? Stag night?"
"Let's talk about that some other time," Edward answers.
"And Rosalie, would you be my matron of honour?" I ask her.
"Absolutely, I'd love to! Just let me know what you need me to do and I'll be there," she says as we hug.
"Well, Gianna is making most of the arrangements, but I would like you to come to New York with me for my dress fitting."
Her eyes light up in excitement at the prospect of the upcoming trip.
"And Alice will need your measurements too, for your dress."
"Of course. We're meeting up again while she's here this weekend anyway, so that shouldn't be a problem. Now tell me, did I see Lauren earlier?"
I groan. "Yes, unfortunately. Apparently, it would go against etiquette not to invite her. Her parents are nice, though. And I made sure she saw me and Edward making out in the hallway just now."
We both giggle at that and gladly take a drink off a passing tray.
~o.O.o~
Shortly after New Year's, Rosalie and I travel to New York City for our dress fittings. We decide to make a long weekend of it. My editor was a bit hesitant about me going away for a long weekend, worried I wouldn't have enough material lined up for my weekly review. I was able to soothe his worries by showing him the piece I already prepared to go to print during my absence, and the research I've done for my time away. As it turns out, a musical currently running on Broadway is set to come to London in the spring. I convinced my editor this would be a nice two-piece: first reviewing the show in its original setting, announcing its upcoming London premier, and then comparing it once it's opened in the UK. He was happy to arrange two tickets for me, and I arranged for two more, so we can take Alice and Jasper. I'm sure they'll enjoy the surprise.
I've booked a nice hotel for Rosalie and myself, just a few blocks from Broadway. This puts us in the middle of Manhattan, which means we won't have to use the car service Edward insisted on as much. After we've checked in and freshened up, we head over to Alice and Jasper's apartment. She was right: it is tiny. They made smart use of the space, though, and the place oozes a cosy atmosphere.
"I must admit, Alice, I was a bit worried about closet space for you," I tell her with a wink.
She just points to the ceiling. The quite high ceiling, where several racks are suspended with ropes and pulleys. She lowers one of the racks, which is covered with a dust cloth, to reveal her ever expanding collection of quirky cocktail dresses.
"I keep my everyday clothes in the closet," she explains. "The special occasion stuff is up there."
"How did you manage to install all this?" Rosalie asks, a baffled look on her face.
"It was actually already there when we moved in. The previous tenant had storage boxes up there, and also a swing of some kind, apparently. I just added the racks. Like I said, this place is perfect for us for now."
I couldn't agree more.
We go out to lunch, during which I present her with the musical tickets. Her squeal of excitement is like I expected. She immediately texts Jasper to let him know, and I know she is mentally picking out the perfect outfit to wear for a night at the theatre.
"I figured we'd make good use of the car service, and go out to dinner before," I suggest. "Then afterwards, we could go for drinks if we're all up for it."
Alice doesn't have the entire time we're in New York off, so while she's at work, Rosalie and I check out a few museums and do a little shopping. When it's time for my appointment, we take the car to the offices of Betsey Johnson, where Alice is waiting for us in the lobby. She takes us up to a private studio annex dressing room, where to mannequins are set up, covered with dust cloths. An assistant comes in, offering us glasses of champagne and a tray of small snacks, before excusing herself.
"Let's get Rosalie sorted first, shall we?" Alice suggests as she moves to remove one of the cloths.
The light blue dress is form fitting and knee length, with an asymmetrical neckline and an overlap in the skirt, creating a slight slit in the front. It's understated yet sexy, and perfect for Rosalie for this occasion.
"There's also a bolero jacket for you to wear during the ceremony," she explains as she's helping Rosalie put it on, mindful of the pins. "So you should be able to move easily from the daytime dress code to evening attire."
When Rosalie steps out of the changing room and onto the small platform in front of the mirrors, it is obvious that Alice created the perfect outfit for her. There are also only minor adjustments needed. Alice gets to pinning along the waist, neckline and hemline, then brings out the jacket for Rosalie to try on.
"Very sophisticated," I comment. "This is actually something I can picture you wearing more often."
"That's exactly what I was going for," Alice explains. "I looked at traditional British wedding attire, then took that to a corporate chique feel, and added a bit of sassiness to complement Rosalie."
"I love it," Rosalie says, appraising herself from different angles in the mirrors.
With warnings not to gain or lose any weight before the wedding, she is ushered back into the changing room.
"Now onto our bride," Alice announces excitedly, removing the cloth from the second mannequin with a flourish.
I'm stunned silent. The dress is exactly as I imagined, but couldn't put into words. Somehow, Alice tapped into the vision I had in my mind and brought it to life. I approach it carefully, almost afraid to touch it for fear it wouldn't be real. In my peripheral vision, I see Rosalie wrapping an arm around Alice's shoulders, both looking on with nervous anticipation. Ever so carefully, I lightly run my fingers over the delicate lace covering the gown.
"Do you like it?" Alice asks quietly.
"Like it?" I ask, struggling to contain nervous laughter. "It's amazing! It's like you took my dream dress out of my head and put it onto that mannequin."
She hugs me excitedly, then moves to pull the dress off the mannequin.
"Let's put it on you now, shall we?"
I'm glad she's helping me put it on, because I worry I might tear the delicate fabric in a bout of clumsiness. In the meantime, she explains that the shape she created is somewhere between a sheath and a trumpet style, but definitely not a mermaid. The terms aren't all that familiar to me, but I am happy with the freedom of movement this shape allows me. The sweetheart neckline is also modest enough for a church wedding. When I step out of the dressing room, Rosalie actually has tears in her eyes.
"Don't you just look the picture of romantic perfection?" a voice calls from the doorway.
We all turn around to see Betsey Johnson herself walking over to us.
"Oh doll, don't be shy. You have every right to be elated. Just look at that gorgeous gown!" she says while I'm still speechless.
"Thank you," I finally manage.
"Come on, give us a little twirl," she instructs, to which I of course comply, Alice helping to adjust the modest train. "Ah, look at that back," she sighs, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.
I look over my shoulder into the mirror and am again struck silent at the beauty of Alice's creation. The silk of the dress dips low, with the lace covering my back in what Alice explains is an 'illusion back'. A row of tiny silk-covered buttons runs down the middle of my back.
"Alice, it's perfect. Thank you," I say, feeling myself getting choked up.
Rosalie just nods vigorously, apparently incapable of speaking for the time being. Alice is quick to pass around a box of tissues, then refills our champagne glasses.
"Will you be wearing a veil?" Ms. Johnson asks, to which I shake my head.
"No, just some earrings to match my ring, maybe a hairpin."
She nods her agreement, then walks over to a cabinet along the wall, pulling out a box with her logo on it.
"I do have something to add to this look," she explains. "Alice told me your accent colour will be light blue, so I took the liberty of having these made for you. You may consider them a wedding gift."
She hands me the box and I carefully lift the lid, then push aside the tissue paper. Inside is a pair of pale blue silk peeptoe pumps, with Swarovski crystals across the nose. Handing the box to Alice, I gently take them out and motion for Rosalie to help me put them on. They add the perfect amount of sparkle to the bottom of the dress when I walk or sit down.
"Thank you so much, Ms. Johnson," I say sincerely.
"You're more than welcome, sugar," she replies.
"Would you give me your contact details?" I ask her. "I would love to invite you to our wedding."
"Sure, I would be honoured. I'll make sure Alice gets my personal details to forward to you," she says, grasping my hands.
~o.O.o~
Rosalie and I are just getting back to our hotel room after an evening out with Alice and Jasper, when my phone rings. After glancing at the caller ID, I pick up.
"Hi Paul, how are you?"
"Hi Bella, I hope I didn't wake you," he says.
"Not at all, we just got in actually. But why are you calling me at silly o'clock? I know you can't be that worried about the review I'm working on..." I trail off, lightly teasing.
"Oh absolutely not, I'm sure you'll do fine on it. It's just... a story just broke with the Sun. I know it's most likely rubbish, but you'll be exposed to it anyway, so I thought I'd let you know right away."
Setting my purse down, I pull out my laptop bag and set it on the bed. Rosalie helpfully takes out my laptop and starts booting it up.
"Okay... thanks for calling, Paul. I'm sure it's nothing." Just then, my phone beeps with another incoming call. "I've got another call. Thanks again, Paul. I'll see you when I get back."
"No problem, Bella. You take care."
After disconnecting, I immediately accept Edward's call.
"Hey honey," I call.
"Bella," he sighs. "Did I wake you?"
"No, we just got in from going out with Alice and Jasper. What's wrong? Is this about the story at the Sun?"
"You already know about that?" he asks, sounding surprised.
"My editor just called me. Rosalie's pulling up the website as we speak, so I haven't actually seen it yet, though. Is it bad?"
Before Edward's reply registers, Rosalie gasps and covers her mouth with her hand.
"Oh no," she whispers.
"What is it?" I ask, pulling the laptop towards me, my phone still at my ear.
"It's bad, sweetheart," I hear Edward say. "But also completely false."
"Trouble in paradise?" it reads in bold, red letters at the top of the page, followed by a photo of us that was released after our engagement party. I scroll down to read the short text.
"While his fiancée was spotted boarding a flight to New York City with mutual friend Lady Rosalie McCarty just a few days ago, the Earl of Sussex doesn't appear to be missing her all that much. Photos have surfaced of his Lordship in rather compromising positions with his former fiancée, Lady Lauren Mallory of York. A source has revealed that the former couple has recently reconnected. Things sure look heated in these new photos. Is the wedding still on? We'll keep you posted."
Below the sorry excuse for an article are five photos of what appears to be a bedroom. The lighting is muted, but it is clearly Lauren on the bed, obviously naked and in the throes of passion. The face of the man she's with is kept carefully out of view, but he looks a lot like Edward.
Rosalie takes my phone from my hand and puts it on speaker. I hadn't even realised it had dropped from its position by my ear until I hear Edward frantically calling my name.
"She's here, Edward," Rosalie tells him. "I put you on speaker. She's just looking at the website now."
"Bella, listen to me. You know the Sun is nothing but a trashy tabloid. I've been working on my research the entire time you've been away, and only spent time with Emmett outside of that. I don't even know..."
"Edward, stop," I say once I've found my voice again. "I don't buy that story for one second. You'd never do that to me. I trust you, remember? This is just Lauren trying to stir up trouble."
Inside, I am furious, as Rosalie can certainly tell from the expression on my face, but I can clearly hear the worry in Edward's voice. He needs me to be strong right now. I can lash out later.
"I just never thought she could stoop so low," he mutters, to which I huff.
"Actually, it doesn't completely surprise me," Rosalie replies. "Remember how she was behaving the last few months before you officially broke up?"
"Still," he says. "Surely she must realise what this will do to her reputation as well?"
While I mentally gouge out her eyes while pulling out her horrible acrylic nails with pliers, I force my voice to remain steady and calm.
"Maybe she's so blinded by jealousy that she doesn't care," I offer. "Anyway, let's not waste time on her possible motives. We all know it's not you in the pictures. Now it's time to nip this in the bud."
"I've already contacted Victoria and am going down to Sussex right now to discuss things further. I'm still debating whether to simply issue a statement denying the allegations, or if we should sue Lauren for slander."
"Sue her," I say decidedly. "Remember the way she acted last year. Apparently, she won't listen to reason, so perhaps the threat of prosecution will shut her up." I don't even bother hiding the venom in my voice.
"I'm calling Emmett's father, Edward," Rosalie announces, her own phone to her ear. "He has experience with these kinds of lawsuits. I'll get him to come over as soon as possible. Lauren can count herself lucky there's an ocean between us right now," she fumes.
"Thank you, Rosalie," he replies. "Emmett might have already beaten you to that, though. He was absolutely livid when he called me earlier."
I stay on the phone with Edward while he drives, assuring him that I'm fine and that I trust him. Rosalie meanwhile calls Emmett to calm him down and to make sure his father has been notified. As the story breaks on other websites, I e-mail the links over to Victoria, knowing she'll handle this. Thankfully, Rosalie is great at multitasking, and has informed Alice of what happened as well as changed our flights to one in the morning instead of the day after. It takes a few hours before we're finally able to get some sleep, and I cannot wait to go home.
~o.O.o~
As it turns out, Lauren had seduced an actor who strongly resembles Edward and purposely leaked the photos to the tabloids. What she didn't realise was that Edward has gotten a tattoo on his shoulder blade over the summer, which was suspiciously absent on the man in the photos. Emmett's father immediately presses charges and is quickly able to discredit the photos. It doesn't help her case when the guy in question comes forward mere days later. He had been completely unaware the photos had been taken in the first place and only found out when the story was in all the tabloids.
All in all, the whole thing causes quite the scandal. The tabloids that ran the story are forced to print a retraction and pay a substantial fine, which we donate to a charity for abused women. Last I heard, Lauren is taking a sabbatical in the Maldives or something, and her parents, embarrassed beyond measure, have yet to invite her home.
~o.O.o~
Mid-February, Gianna comes over with boxes full of invitations, ready for us to check one last time before they are sent out. The white paper is thick and heavy, with Carlisle's stamp at the top centre of the page, lending even more of a formal feel to it.
The Duke and Duchess of Sussex
are pleased to invite
...
to the Marriage of
His Lordship Edward Cullen, Earl of Sussex
with
Miss Isabella Swan
at Goring Castle
on Saturday, 15th May, 2010 at 2.00 pm
The first invitation is blank, but all the others have the names handwritten in a beautiful calligraphy.
"You can place this in your wedding album, if you'd like, as a keepsake" Gianna suggests.
She then hands us a few sheets of paper, explaining, "This is the list you provided me with during our last meeting. I triple-checked to make sure that all of them will receive an invitation, but please check to see if you'd like to make any changes before I send them out."
The list is quite long and it takes us a good fifteen minutes to run through it one more time. Aside from Edward's and my immediate family and close friends, we have invited most of the entertainment section of the Times as well as some upper management, members of Edward's research program at Oxford, and a careful selection of British nobility. The Earl and Countess of York are still on there, but Lauren has been meticulously removed from the list after the stunt she tried to pull. I wasn't too happy with her being on the list to begin with, so I'm not at all sorry.
"Now, we will also be sending an invitation to the Queen," Gianna continues, "but she most likely will not be able to attend. We might expect one of the Princes to RSVP in her stead, though."
"Alice will get a kick out of that," I say to Edward. "She was quite bummed we didn't meet them at Rosalie and Emmett's wedding."
"I'll give them a call once the invitations have gone out," Edward promises. At my surprised look, he elaborates, "They were both a few years ahead of me at Eton, but we do sometimes run in the same circles. And we are family, of course, though distantly."
"How am I only hearing of this now?" I ask in mock indignation but cannot hide my smile.
Having approved of the finalised guest list, we hand it back to Gianna. She'll keep track of the RSVPs for us and make any adjustments necessary with regards to seating and food.
"You'll notice the invitation also lists the dress code for both day and evening. Since this is a noble wedding, a certain etiquette is required, as you're aware," Gianna points out. She then looks at me before continuing, "If you think any of your friends or family might benefit from some pointers, I'd be happy to reach out to them with some information on both."
I understand why she's trying to bring this gently; she doesn't want to offend anyone but needs to address the issue regardless. Luckily for her, I have anticipated this and have already talked to most of our American guests about this.
"Don't worry about it, Gianna, I understand that this is important. I've marked people on the list you can send the extra information to. They'll know to expect it."
"Wonderful," she says, clasping her hands together. "I'll get these mailed out this week. Now, let's talk flowers."
~o.O.o~
Time seems to fly, and before I know it's the day before our wedding. Our American friends have flown in a few days ago. Most are staying in hotels near the venue, but my parents have been invited to Carlisle and Esme's estate. Esme has organised a lovely dinner for us, but the evening is very informal. They even asked everyone gathered to address them by their first names instead of their titles.
Tradition has it that Edward and I should spend the night before our wedding apart, preferably not under the same roof. I'm loathe to adhere to that, though, so when we retire for the evening, I decidedly walk past the guest room where my bag is, and march straight up to Edward's old room.
"Bella?" he asks.
"I don't want to spend tonight apart," I tell him. "I'll get hardly any sleep and will spend tomorrow picking the bags under my eyes off the floor."
"Well," he replies, grinning. "We wouldn't want you tripping down the aisle."
Across the hall, I see Elizabeth peeking out of her bedroom as we enter the room. With a wink, I put my index finger over my lips, and she retreats into her room with a giggle.
We disrobe quietly, and I pick up Edward's discarded T-shirt to wear to bed. While I'm washing my face, I consider picking up a few things in my room, but quickly decide against it, as it means an added risk of getting caught. Instead, I just use his toothbrush and finish up my nightly routine before joining him in bed.
As I snuggle into his side, he wraps his arms around me and places a kiss to the top of my head.
"I can't believe you'll officially be mine tomorrow," he murmurs.
"Edward, I've been yours since you helped me wash zombie blood out of my hair," I tell him.
He leans over me, tilting my head up to look into my eyes.
"But tomorrow I get to declare to the whole world that you're my wife," he says. "And I'm insanely looking forward to it."
There's nothing I can say to his declaration that would do it justice, so instead I lean up and kiss him passionately. I let my fingers trail down his arms and chest, one of my hands finding purchase on the waistband of his boxer briefs, while I feel his heart beating wildly under the palm of my other hand. My legs open seemingly of their own volition, and Edward nestles in between them, grinding against my heated core. A moan escapes my lips, and I breathe heavily into Edward's neck as his mouth moves down my neck. I can feel him, hot and hard against me. It would be so easy to slide off our remaining clothes and give into temptation. A nagging little voice in the back of my mind reminds me that there is a part of this tradition that we do like to keep.
"Edward," I half-whisper, half-moan, making a half-hearted attempt to push him back just a little.
He rests his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, his eyes closed in concentration. He pulls back a little further, shaking his head as if to clear it from the clouds of lust.
"I know," he mutters. "The next time we make love, it'll be as husband and wife. You're just too tempting for your own good."
Despite our rather explicit position, and my earlier wanton sounds, I find myself blushing at his comment. He moves off me and settles to my side again, pulling me into his arms once more.
"Just let me hold you and let's sleep, love."
~o.O.o~
I make sure to be back in my own room well before I expect my mother to get up. Although we're adults and getting married today, I do not want to deal with having to explain why we didn't sleep separately last night. I'm showered and dressed in my robe, in the process of brushing out my hair, when there is a knock on my door. When I call for whoever it is to enter, Elizabeth makes her presence known.
"I heard you sneak back here earlier," she says, smiling conspiratorially. "Couldn't stay apart, I take it?"
"Just wait until it's your turn, young lady," I reply teasingly.
Over the last year and a half I've grown quite fond of my Edward's sister. She visits us quite regularly and is set to start university in London after the summer. I know it's a comfort to Carlisle and Esme that we'll be close by. We've already extended a standing invitation to join us for dinner, and she knows she can call us whenever she wants or needs to. I'm glad to be having a moment alone with her this morning, as the day will no doubt be busy.
"That's still a long while into the future," she says. "I'm not looking to settle down anytime soon, thank you very much."
She makes herself comfortable on my bed while I finish brushing my hair, chatting about random things. When I spy her fidgeting a bit, I call her out on it.
"What's going on, Liz? You look nervous."
"I got you something," she blurts out, her eyes wide. She then picks up an Ann Summers shopping bag she had concealed next to the bed and hands it to me, explaining, "I know your friends got us all those nice robes to wear when getting ready, but I figured you'd want to wear something comfortable underneath as well."
Inside the bag are a satin, floral lounge set and a pair of slippers. They indeed look very comfortable, and much nicer than the yoga pants and top I had been planning to wear. I love the personal touch to the gift, as well as it being from what is quickly becoming my favourite lingerie store, and don't hesitate in putting it on. After hugging Elizabeth in thanks, of course.
~o.O.o~
We arrive at Castle Goring mid-morning, with the men staying behind to get ready at the estate. The photographer, Siobhan, greets us upon arrival and accompanies us up to the bridal suite. My dress is already here, courtesy of Alice and Gianna, and everyone ooh's and aah's at seeing it hanging above the headboard of the French double bed with domed canopy. As Siobhan starts snapping photos of the dress and us in the room, I blush, secretly eager to come back here tonight with Edward for our wedding night.
We enjoy a lovely breakfast seated by the large windows, before getting comfortable and pulling on our customized robes. Mine is white, of course, with rhinestones spelling out Bride across the back. The others are light blue, with rhinestones announcing everyone's role – Mother of the Bride, Mother of the Groom, Matron of Honour, Sister of the Groom, Designer – on the back. This constitutes another photo opportunity, and we decide to have a little fun first, before starting on hair and make-up. The beautiful stately furniture and elegant bathroom provide ample opportunity for us to have our girly and fun moments, and get rid of some of the excess energy.
I relax as the hairstylist and make-up artist work their magic, sipping on my one allowed pre-ceremony glass of champagne in the meantime. The make-up artist advises me to brush my teeth before she applies my lipstick and I put on my dress, to avoid any toothpaste spatter, something I hadn't even thought of. It's already around one in the afternoon, and the guests are starting to arrive, Siobhan's assistant documenting their arrival.
My mother and I share an intimate moment as she helps me put on my earrings. They were her mother's, and she and Phil had them carefully cleaned so the diamonds sparkle in their platinum settings. Esme then presents me with a beautiful antique white gold comb, which she and Carlisle had set with sapphires to match my ring. I'm vaguely aware of Siobhan capturing it all, but thankful that she's not intruding on the private and thoughtful moment. The hairstylist carefully inserts the comb into my updo.
Gianna then announces it's time to get dressed and everyone turns to me expectantly. I'm the last one still in her robe, as the others got dressed while I was being beautified. Esme looks almost regal in her mint dress-and-coat combination, with matching shoes and fascinator, while my mother is wearing a light plum dress with scoop neck and three-quarter sleeves. Alice's dress is quite demure, compared to her usual festive wardrobe, but the pale pink floral dress has some quirky details that set her apart. She had surprised Elizabeth by designing a fun and flirty strapless cocktail dress for her with layered skirt and a bolero. It's a similar shade to Rosalie's dress, but has some sequins on the top and a bright pink belt.
My mother and Esme tear up when Alice helps me into the dress. Siobhan gets in close when she does up all the tiny buttons on the back. I'm not nearly as voluptuous as Rosalie, but the dress she designed for me hugs my figure and accentuates my assets wonderfully, without being inappropriate.
"Oh honey, you look so beautiful and grown up!" my mother exclaims, dabbing a tissue under her eyes. "Edward won't be able to take his eyes off you."
"That's exactly what I'm aiming for," Alice quips, to which we all laugh.
Siobhan has me pose around the room for a few minutes, until Gianna informs us it's time to go. While I carefully make my way down the grand staircase, picture after picture is being snapped to capture our descent. I pose with my parents, my soon-to-be sister-in-law, and Alice and Rosalie at various locations in the stately vestibule, before they all make their way over to the chapel, leaving me alone with my father. Once Gianna gives us the signal that everyone is seated, my father guides me to the chapel entrance, a nervous anticipation taking over me.
The opening chords of Claire de Lune ring out in the chapel. As my father tucks my hand into his elbow and we start slowly walking up the aisle, I know I've never been more ready. There at the altar, in his tailored morning coat, waits my future. My love. My husband. And I am more than ready to embrace it all. To be his wife, his partner, his Countess.
~o.O.o~
The End
~o.O.o~