Once again I apologize for posting so late. My daughter is going to France for higher studies, and I and my husband are accompanying her to see that she settles down and has everything required in the beginning. For the past two months I have been busy with paperwork and making arrangements for everything, and it has distracted me from this story of ours. We are flying tomorrow night, and I will be back in the last week of this month. After that, the updates should be pretty regular.

Most of the readers caught what Bella had forgotten to say to Edward. As you will see, she remembers soon enough!

Chapter-27

I wake up once during the night, to soft lips and sweet words. Eager hands and enthusiastic caresses welcome me, and I reciprocate with alacrity. Before long we are joined together, all tangled limbs and panting breaths. Edward applies more force than usual, making me move towards the headboard of the large bed until my head touches it, making me giggle. He stops thrusting, places a couple of pillows behind my head and continues his action, all within a heartbeat.

I suppose the right incentive can make a man think and act very quickly.

Finally both of us are satisfied, though sweaty. It doesn't bother me too much nowadays. When Edward has gathered me in his arms and is placing petal-soft kisses on my hair, I remember something.

"Edward?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I meant to tell you something before I went to sleep, but I forgot."

Even though it is dark, I know he is smiling. "So tell me now."

"I, um…" I am not sure it is the best time or place to say what I want to. Is confessing one's love just after having sex appropriate? Should I wait for a more opportune moment?

"Bella?" his tone changes. "Is it something for me to worry about?"

Of course he would think that; he is such a worrier. "No, of course not. I was merely unsure if I should say it now, that is all." I clear my throat, feeling silly. Why am I making such a big issue of it? "I, uh, I wanted to say that I love you." My voice dips so low at the end that it becomes a whisper. It would be a marvel if he heard me.

The sudden stillness of his body, to the extent that it seems he has stopped breathing, proves that my words did reach him. After a few heartbeats his lips move to shape words on my hair. "You…love me? Is that what you said?"

I nod against his chest even as I say yes to his question. In response, I feel his chest move and hear his breath rush out.

"Will you say it again?" he whispers, his voice soft in my ear.

I move my head back so I can look at him, even though I can't see much of him in the near-darkness. "I love you, Edward." My voice is stronger this time.

Butterfly-soft kisses land on my temple, my eyes and my cheeks. "Oh, Bella," he says between bestowing them, his breath fanning my hair. "I am so, so happy to hear you say the words. I want to hear them all my life!"

"You won't get bored?" I tease him.

"Never." I can hear the smile in his voice, but also the solemnity. It makes me feel cherished.

"Then I will keep on saying them."

-ATW-

Irina stays with us for five days more. Now that I am comfortable with her, I really like spending time with her. Contrary to her elegant persona, she loves to gossip and make me laugh with the many amusing anecdotes she has collected over the years. It is a wonder to me how similar people are in certain ways, even though they live in different countries, speak different languages and follow different traditions.

We discuss the many aspects of physical intimacy too. I understand a little more how men and women feel about and look differently at sex. It is not a matter of being right or wrong, but simply being different from each-other. Communication is the most important thing here, and Irina stresses that there is no scope for shyness and awkwardness.

"Unfortunately, society has taught men to be aggressive and take what they want," she says thoughtfully when I ask her why there is so much misunderstanding on the subject. "From their childhood they are expected to be physically active, mentally sharp and emotionally strong, by which people understand that boys and men should never cry or show their feelings in front of others. That would be a sign of weakness, you see. On the other hand, women are supposed to be meek and soft and emotionally vulnerable always. Most boys and girls don't get the opportunity of understanding each other, but still, when they get married they are suddenly expected to get along well! Now how is that possible?"

I nod, thinking over her words. "You are right. After being asked to keep a distance between us, the society expects us to suddenly be close in every way. Perhaps physical intimacy is not as important as emotional intimacy, but it is certainly difficult to achieve. The biggest problem is of course that we have no information on it. Most girls are terrified of their wedding night because all they know is that it will be painful for them!"

Irina argues that physical intimacy is every bit as important as emotional, but agrees with me that the lack of information contributes very much to the awkwardness. "Even if you are in love with someone, it takes some practice to get the sexual part right, doesn't it? Though your feelings might make you less hesitant."

"I can't really see any solution to this problem," I comment. "It is doubtful that boys and girls will be permitted to mingle freely while they are unmarried, so there is no question of their learning anything about the other's mind, let alone their body. And since the girl is not supposed to voice her opinion, she can only hope to be lucky enough to be married to a boy who will care for her and maybe know something about making her happy."

Her eyes twinkle. "Why Isabella, are you advocating that unmarried girls and boys have some opportunity to practice their sensual skills? I would never have imagined you being in favour of that!"

I laugh sheepishly. "I am not saying they should have sex; that should be reserved until after the marriage. But, perhaps some closeness and kissing wouldn't be amiss. It is not as if these things don't happen, is it?"

"Of course these things happen," she agrees gently. "I doubt if the milkmaids and the stable-hands care to wait until they get wed. The lords, and some ladies, do whatever they please and don't give a whit to the rules of the society. Or perhaps their status protects them from being criticised, at least to a certain extent. Only the middle classes remain bound by the so-called moral rightness. That, I think, is unlikely to change in this century."

Apart from serious discussions, I ask her questions I cannot ask anyone else, and she gladly answers them. It results in Edward's and mine activities in the bedroom become even more varied and enjoyable.

Edward insists that since I have graced his room with my presence, it has gained a life of its own. Instead of merely being a space where he washed and dressed, it has actually become his room, a place with happy memories. He looks forward to sharing it with me, and I gladly agree to spend some nights there.

It is a large and handsome room of course, as would befit his position. He admits he had some changes made before shifting into it as it was too opulent for his taste. There are still a couple of overstuffed chairs from Anthony's time, but no ornate mirrors or heavily framed paintings. The bed has been changed, of course. It would be bad luck for a lord to use the bed of another who died so young due to illness.

Edward invites me to add anything I might wish to the room, but I have no plans to do that, at least not yet.

Irina leaves us with best wishes and an invitation to visit her in Paris. I miss her, but then there is so much to do, and soon life returns to its normal cheerful routine.

Even though the All Hallows Eve is months away, I am thinking of all that can be done to celebrate it. With Edward at my side, I won't mind hosting a party. In fact, I am looking forward to it.

With numerous ideas flitting through my mind, I miss something that I would never have forgotten otherwise. Strangely enough, it is Edward who brings it to my mind.

"Bella," he remarks in the midst of my rambling about what all I would like to do on Halloween, "you haven't sent me a note for a while."

I stop, surprised by his comment. "A note? Was I supposed to inform you of something related to the household?"

His smile is indulgent. "No, I expected something of a personal nature, something you sent to me last month. Not that I was looking forward to it."

Now I am completely puzzled. "If you weren't looking forward to it, why would you remember it?"

"Because it would mean something special to me, my darling. Or rather, the fact that you have not sent that note means some happy event can be looked forward to."

When I continue to stare at him in incomprehension still, he chuckles and shakes his head. "Your time of the month? I have been counting the days, and it should have been here two days ago. Of course, two days is not much; you might still get it in a day or two."

It is like I see the light suddenly. "Oh, oh yes, you are right. I had forgotten about that." I swallow the lump that has formed out of nowhere in my throat. "So, I might be expecting?"

His eyes are incredibly soft. "It might be possible, sweetheart. I suppose we should wait for a few days more before we can be sure though, shouldn't we?"

I agree with him that we should. I don't dare to hope too much, but I would really, really like to be pregnant. And I know Edward will be over the moon if it is confirmed.

So we wait and wait, and every passing day makes us smile a little more. When a whole fortnight has passed, and I experience a slight dizziness one day, we know that we are going to be parents.

I thank God for this privilege, and so does Edward.

And then he falls on his knees, places his arms around my middle, and cries quietly while I sit on the ottoman in front of my vanity. I run my fingers through his hair, understanding perfectly that however commonplace the event of a woman having a baby might be, it is no less than a miracle in our case.

"I never imagined we would get the chance…" he says, his words muffled against my clothes. "Bella, thank you for making me the happiest man alive by marrying me, and thank you for this day—it is a dream come true for me."

I tell him how happy I am, and how much I love him. He looks up with shining eyes and tells me that he loves me and he is not going to miss a single day of my pregnancy.

"I wish we didn't have to let James know," he sighs.

"Do we have to?" I don't like the idea either.

"Not right now," he replies, "but yes, in a few months. He will come to know anyway, from someone or other. Of course, I will ask him not to make an appearance until after the baby is born. The less we have to see of him, the better."

I suppose that is all I can ask for.

A.N. : I know! Why did James had to pop in between a tender scene, right? He is such a mood-spoiler. Let's hope we don't see him for ages yet!

See you next month. :)