Hmm, lots of confusion and questions from the reviewers. Rest assured everything will be made clear in the coming chapters.
Oh, the time gap between the prologue and the first chapter is six years and some months. Sorry that it was unclear earlier!
The past will be covered through flashbacks. I could have continued the story from the prologue, but I wanted to have more of Edward than Anthony. :)
Beta'ed by the lovely LovePotionsBrewer. All mistakes are mine.
Chapter-2
I have asked him to make a formal proposal to you…
Oh heavens, he will be proposing to me, and I will have to say yes.
Was he going to kiss me as well?
I slap my wrist sharply at the thought. I should not be thinking such thoughts: that was so wrong.
I hated Edward for how he had made me feel; how he still made me feel.
I loved my husband, and now I love the memory of him. How could I even imagine another man kissing me?
Because Edward has done more than just kiss you, my mind whispers. He knows your body as well as Anthony did, and what is more, you felt more with him.
Before I can stop myself, my mind is inundated with the memories of the first—and last—time we were together. His kisses, his touches, the intense look in his eyes as he sank inside me…the groans he produced as he moved quickly…
Frustrated, I beat my pillow with my fists. The memories are making a liar of me. And not just a liar but a hypocrite as well, for being angry with Lord Masen. How am I any better than him?
I try to read, to take a nap, to play Patience with Alice—nothing works. Three o'clock arrives too soon, and I am still not prepared to receive Edward. The emotional turbulence in my heart is making me jittery.
A footman announces Edward. He is waiting for me in the small parlour. I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders and proceed there.
Edward is standing at the large window, his body angled so as to keep watch on both the garden outside as well as the door to the room. As I enter, with Alice right behind me, he straightens to his full height and then bows slightly.
"Lady Isabella."
I murmur the appropriate response, but I am too busy drinking him in to say anything else. He was a beautiful man when we first met, but now he looks even better, somehow. There is a…maturity to his features, an alertness to his eyes, a steadfastness to his brow. He looks like a man with a purpose.
I guess success does that to a man. Anthony might not have mentioned him, but Mrs. Stanley let me know a couple of times that Edward was doing very well in France, having used his horse-training skills on the racecourse.
He is offering me condolences on Anthony's death. Is he really sorry Anthony died? After all, he stands to gain everything: his title, his property, and his wife.
"Thank you. Would you like some tea?" I ask in a flat tone.
He gives me a strange look but nods a yes.
"Alice, can you please inform the cook that tea is to be served in fifteen minutes?"
"Of course, my lady."
She leaves us alone for the time being, though I know she wouldn't be very far. Even though I never shared my feelings with her, she understands that he makes me uncomfortable. She is intuitive that way.
"Won't you take a seat, my lady?" Edward gestures to an overstuffed couch, covered with velvety red fabric. The sides and back are carved in the latest fashion, the edges decorated with an intricate vine trellis.
All I see is that it will give him an opportunity to sit close to me, if he chooses to do so.
"Thank you." I lower myself into a single chair with delicate armrests instead.
However, he is not dissuaded. To my utter consternation, he drags an ottomanl and sits right in front of me, his height giving him the advantage so his face is at the same level as mine.
"How are you, Isabella? Really?"
How can he sound so sincere? What does he care for my wellbeing? Why does the sound of my name on his lips fills me with pleasure? I have to keep my distance.
"I am well, my lord," I answer woodenly. I keep my eyes on his hands, not looking up at all.
But then his hands come closer to mine and engulf them, startling me so that I look straight into his eyes.
And I get lost in them—in their beauty, and in the intensity of his gaze.
"God, Bella, don't look at me like that!" he groans. I have heard it before, when his lips had been as close to mine as they are now. I can feel the caress of his warm breath. It brings back the one memory I am keen to forget, and I jerk backwards in shock.
"Don't you dare touch me!"
"But, Bella—"
"It's Isabella to you," I say clearly, glaring at him to the best of my ability. "Only Anthony called me Bella. I know I am supposed to marry you—Lord Masen let me know today—but you will never replace Anthony in my heart. I love him and I always will—to my dying day!"
He sighs deeply and moves the footstool back, and I can breathe again.
"Be-Isabella," he says quietly, "I do not intend to replace Anthony. I know how much you love him, but…I was hoping that…we could take this second chance fate has offered us and find happiness together. Both of us—"
But I am already shaking my head. "My lord, my happiness was intertwined with my love for my husband. Unless he comes back from the dead, it will not be possible for me to regain it. Perhaps you should consider marrying another lady—"
This time he shakes his head emphatically. "No, Isabella, happy or not, I will marry only you. I have been apart from you for too long. All these years…it seemed to me that I would be in exile forever and never see your sweet face again. Now that James has offered me the title as well as your hand, I will not run away."
"You called him by his given name?" My expression must be comical with disbelief. "Nobody dares to—don't you know he doesn't like it?"
Lord James Alexander Masen, Anthony's father, has an ego that is bigger in size than the whole Masen Estate. It does not brook irreverence.
Edward smiles for the first time. "I am not scared of him—not any longer."
Huh, he is probably the only one. Everybody I know is terrified of even breathing wrong in Lord Masen's presence. "You have changed. I remember when—"
His mouth lifts slightly on one side. "Yes, I have changed; I have grown up. Also, I am no longer a poor stable manager. James needs me to secure his estate."
"It is a pity girls can't carry on with the title," I remark dryly.
Edward's eyebrows rise, but then his expression transform, becomes much softer.
"Your daughter—" he clears his throat once, looking nervous. "I would like to see her. May I see her?"
I blink in confusion at his request. "Why would you want to meet her?"
He smiles wistfully. "Because Anthony was my cousin and a dear friend. Because Elizabeth is your daughter and I want to know everything and everyone connected with you. Please, Be—" he stops himself again. "Isabella, you cannot imagine what it was like to be so far away from home for years. I feel like I need to catch up with everything I have missed!"
His intensity moves me. "All right. We can go see her after tea."
As if she was waiting for a signal, Alice knocks softly on the partially closed door.
"Tea is served, my lady."
I nod for her to wheel the tea-trolley in.
I nibble on a dainty cucumber sandwich while Edward chooses a delicious-looking scone with clotted cream. He always did have a sweet tooth.
After a fair pretence of doing justice to the various accompaniments, and having a cup of tea each, we move to the nursery. Edward seems eager as well as somewhat reluctant all at once. I wish I could see inside his head.
We find Elizabeth at her favourite table, busily colouring the picture of a butterfly in a large book. Colours have always fascinated her, be they the flowers in the garden or the splash of a glorious sunset across the sky. I might be biased, but I believe she has the eye of an artist.
Her mouth is pursed in concentration as she moves the crayon along the very outline of the picture. I suppress a smile as I turn to Edward, who is standing just behind me, sure that he must be laughing at Lizzie's seriousness.
His expression, however is one of awe, as if he has never seen a little girl before, not at close quarters anyway. That part might be true.
He notices my look and gives me a sheepish smile.
"Shall we?" I indicate with my head.
"After you."
Our voices attract Lizzie's attention and she looks up. A smile lights up her face as she gets up and runs to me. Luckily, Maggie is not around to stop her.
"Mamma!" She stretches out her arms, and I pick her up instantly. Whenever she is close to me, I feel complete—or at least less incomplete.
She notices Edward immediately. Her first reaction is to hide her face in my neck, but her curiosity doesn't let her for long. I feel rather than see her raise her head and peek at him.
"Mamma, who is he?" she whispers finally. Never mind that Edward can hear her perfectly clearly.
I walk further into the room and sit on the couch, with Lizzie perched on my lap. Her long hair, held back with a red silk ribbon, swings forward as she gazes at Edward. He looks around, perhaps trying to decide where he should sit, then nods and takes a seat on the sofa chair in front of us.
"Lizzie, I would like to introduce you to Lord Edward Masen," I say, stroking her hair out of the way. "Now how should you greet him?"
She climbs down from my lap but remains close. With her little hands clutching her frock on both sides, she bobs a clumsy curtsy.
"My Lord Masen." Her voice is a sweet trill.
"I am honoured to meet you, Miss Elizabeth," Edward answers stiffly. Then he exhales and his manner softens. "You are such a pretty girl, just like your mother."
The indirect compliment startles me. Did he really mean that? Have not the last six years altered his perception? After all, I am older now. I have also given birth to a baby, which means I am a little wider in the hips.
And he must have seen women who are far more beautiful than me while on the continent. A flash of jealousy runs through me as I think of him with a stylish Frenchwoman on his arm.
His eyes are fixed on my daughter, however. "May I call you Lizzie, like your mother does? You see, Elizabeth is my mother's name too, so it feels a little strange to call you that."
His mother's name? Huh, I suppose I had forgotten about it. Of course Anthony had mentioned it in passing. She had practically brought him up after his mother died in childbirth. Anthony was very young then, just three years or so.
I had met her only once after the wedding though. And she has pretty much been a recluse since Edward left the country.
Lizzie bobs her head eagerly, probably charmed by Edward's smile. I still remember how it used to affect me. And he must have had lots of practice while he was abroad.
"What should I call you?" asks Lizzie thoughtfully.
Edward raises an eyebrow. Clearly he had not expected that question. Before I can present a solution, he says, "I am your father's cousin, so I suppose you should call me uncle. Now, why don't you show me your picture-book? That butterfly you are colouring looks pretty."
Lizzie is eager to comply with his request, and soon both of them are immersed in the various pictures she has coloured. I feel neglected, which is an extremely odd feeling in the situation. Edward is just trying to be friendly, isn't he?
Maggie returns in a few minutes, and is surprised to see us, especially Edward. I introduce them. Edward asks Lizzie if he can visit her again, and we take our leave after I have kissed my daughter goodnight.
"I hope you don't mind my visiting Lizzie?" he asks quietly when we are back in the parlour.
"It is a little late to ask, isn't it? She is so taken with you; if you don't keep your word, she will be disappointed." I wish I could keep my tone light, but there is definitely a touch of bitterness there. And Edward does not miss it.
"Have I offended you in some way? I did not mean to," he says, his eyes sincere. He rubs the back of his neck, a habit I am familiar with. "It's just that I want to know her—and that she should feel comfortable with me. I don't really know how to behave around children, you see, but I would like to learn. She is an important part of our family, after all."
"Our family," I repeat tonelessly. It sounds so…wrong. Does he think I will forget Anthony completely?
A reddish hue steals upon his high cheekbones. "I mean…since we are to be married…shortly." He chases away his embarrassment with a deep breath, and smiles wistfully. "She is like a miniature version of you, Isabella."
"Except her eyes," I point out with a smile, but I know it is a sad one. "Anthony said she had his grandfather's eyes, since his were grey-blue like his father's."
Edward nods in agreement. "Yes, they seem to have skipped a couple of generations." He clears his throat. "I think I have taken enough of your time, Isabella. Um, I am staying with my mother for now, but I will be in the office most days, if you need to discuss anything."
His tone is almost hopeful, but I am not in the mood to entertain him. "Of course, my lord. I doubt it though. I am sure Lord Masen has already given instructions for the wedding to the Stanleys and to Jenks. It will be a simple one, I believe."
Jenks is the steward of the estate, and Anthony's right hand in the matters of administration. Well, I suppose he is Edward's man now.
Disappointment flits across his features, but his voice remains calm. "Of course. Well, I will see you at the wedding then, barring any urgent matter that might come up. Goodnight, Isabella."
I mutter the same to him, and he turns away. My shoulders sag with relief, but before I can take another breath, he is facing me again, his eyes burning. The next moment his arms encircle me as he pulls me close, his muscles hard against my soft curves. A protest forms on my lips but never leaves them as his mouth stops any sound from escaping me, flooding my body with long-forgotten sensations. His hands, large and strong, roam on my back, and I feel their heat even through the many layers of my clothing. When he finally lets me breathe, both of us are panting.
Then my mind clears, and shame fills my heart. How could I have been so wanton? The triumph on his face makes me furious, and I draw back my hand and slap him. The sound fills the small room.
He seems outraged, but then takes a deep breath and nods once, accepting. But I am not so easily pacified.
"You are not my husband yet!" My voice is low, barely above a whisper, but my anger is obvious.
His lips twist in a half-smile-half-grimace as his palm touches his reddening cheek.
"And when I am? Will you deny me my right even then?"
"No, I will fulfil my duty as a wife," I reply while gritting my teeth. "However, you would do well to remember that you will never replace Anthony in my heart, so don't expect anything more than that. Have I made myself clear?"
"Extremely." He has the gall to smile, disbelief plain in his tone. "One month then, Isabella. I will prove to you that you want me as much as you did six years ago. Goodbye."
He leaves this time, and I rush to my bedroom, to fall on my bed and curse myself for being so weak.
A.N.: Some people have issues with Bella for cheating upon Anthony. All I can say is that none of the characters in this story is perfect. Bella herself realized her hypocrisy in this chapter!
Now, what do you think of Edward?
Also, if anyone is interested in being a pre-reader, please let me know!