Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! I could not answer most of them as the site had some problems, and also because it would have given away too much.
An extra-long chapter to make up for the delay, and lots of answers!
Chapter-30
"Bella? Bella, sweetheart, please wake up."
Edward's voice. That is Edward's voice. But there is something different about it.
Why is he asking me to wake up? Is it morning already? If it is, why do I feel so tired, as if I have not slept at all?
"Carlisle, why isn't she waking up? It has been hours!"
What would Carlisle be doing here so early? Did he come for dinner last night and stay? Where is my aunt then, and good heavens, why would he be in my bedroom while I was asleep?
"She has received a nasty shock, Edward. My guess is that she does not wish to wake up and face the reality. There is nothing wrong with her otherwise."
Shock? What is my uncle talking about? I am just tired and sleepy.
"This is all my fault, Carlisle. I should have never listened to Anthony, never been a part of that insane scheme of his, never agreed to deceive my sweet girl in such a horrible manner. Oh, what all I have put her through! She will not forgive me for this. Ever."
A sigh, then silence. Apparently Carlisle has nothing to say in answer to Edward's self-flagellation.
A part of my brain wonders what unforgivable crime my husband has committed, and what could have been my late husband's role in it. How could I not know anything about it?
Another sigh and a set of footsteps, the sound fading away gradually. Someone has left the room. Edward, or Carlisle?
The answer comes in the sound of anguished sobs, followed by a soft thud. My hand in his. Muffled words break the sobs, begging my forgiveness, begging me to wake up.
I frown. I do not like that Edward is in so much pain. He is a good man. Whatever he has done cannot be that terrible. I fight the fog in my mind and the lethargy weighing my eyelids down, finally succeeding in opening my eyes.
"Edward," I whisper, blinking to clear my vision. My throat feels so dry.
His face comes into focus as he gets up from the floor and sits beside me. His eyes are red, and when I raise my hand and touch his cheek, it is wet with tears.
"Bella, you're awake. Oh Lord, thank you!"
He closes his eyes for a second and bows his head. Then he gazes at me tenderly and strokes my forehead.
"How are you feeling, my love?"
I swallow painfully. "Thirsty."
"Oh yes, yes, of course. I will get you some water."
I struggle to sit up while he pours water from the pitcher. He brings the tumbler to me and helps me get comfortable, supporting my back with a pillow.
"Drink slowly, all right? Carlisle said if you drink too much at once, you might feel sick."
I nod, and then take a few sips of water, small ones. With my throat less parched, my mind begins to work. A host of questions burst into it as I remember Edward's face before losing consciousness. I had been reading something…
"The letter," I gasp sharply. Disjointed sentences float into my mind, some of them standing out more clearly than others. My daughter is growing up without her father…I will come and take them away…And on the back of the sheet, a cry of pain and longing…Bella, Bella, Bella, come to me, my love…
Even though I don't understand the full meaning of that missive, my heart clenches with an unknown fear. Something is very wrong here, or at least it was, to make Edward pen that drunken rant and call Anthony a lily-livered coward from across the channel.
Edward's whole face becomes a grimace of pain. Slowly, he nods in answer to my unasked question.
"But…why?"
The glass trembles in my hands. He takes it and places it on the small stool by the bed.
"You are going to hate me," he mumbles, not looking at me.
"Edward, please tell me why you wrote that letter to Anthony."
He looks up then. "I was drunk that night, and out of my mind with worry that Anthony wasn't going to keep his word. It had been three years, and my hope had turned to despair."
"What word?"
"That he would leave this place, and you would be mine. Or he would send you and Lizzie to me in secret. I don't know how he was going to do that, but he assured me he would find a way."
My head whirls. "I don't understand. Why? I was his wife!"
He takes my hands in his clammy ones. "Only in name, Bella. He didn't…he never consummated the marriage. He couldn't do it because…he didn't like women."
My brow wrinkles as I try to understand. "You mean that he didn't like me? Then why did he marry me?"
He shakes his head as his lips twist with disdain. "No, I mean that he didn't like any woman, not in the way a man does. He could not be a proper husband to a woman, could not make love to her because he was attracted to men."
"How…What do you…" I can't find the words to ask the question I want to, in response to this unbelievable statement. "That is impossible. Impossible! You are lying to me!"
Edward shrinks back as I snatch my hands from his, my face hot with anger. "Aren't you ashamed to malign a dead man, that too your brother? You know that he can't come back to defend himself! Why would you do that, Edward?"
"Do you at least know that some men are like this, Bella?" His tone is patient. "You have led such a sheltered life here…"
Is he being condescending to me? Just because he has spent some years on the continent, does he think that I am a mere country bumpkin?
"Of course I know that there are such men," I say scathingly. "I am not a complete ignoramus, Edward! I may have spent my whole life in the country, but you forget that I have entertained nobility here, in this very house, for years. I have heard some very enlightening discussions among the ladies who have been my guests."
"Indeed." His expression is almost amused now. Almost. But his eyes are still sad. "So why can't you believe that Anthony was one of them?"
"Because they don't get married," I reply triumphantly. "I overheard Lady Marlow and Lady Windermere talking about some or other lord once. His family was sad that he would die without an heir, but he had stated quite firmly that he was not going to marry a woman when he liked only men. If Anthony was like that, he wouldn't have married me in the first place."
Edward sighs. "Not every such man has the courage to declare his proclivity openly, my sweet girl. You heard only about one man who told his family he was inclined to love other men, but the truth is that the majority of them keep their affections a secret. They are scared of the judgment their family, friends and the society in general would heap upon them. Some men have been sent to prison for having sex with other men, some have even committed suicide because they could see no way out. As for Anthony, he shouldn't have married, but he was too scared of James. Can you imagine what would have happened if he had confessed to his father that he loved men?"
"James would have killed him," I answer without even thinking about it. There is no doubt in my mind that that's exactly what would have happened.
"He married you only because it would pacify James. He even thought that he could give you a child or two—some men manage to do that—and you wouldn't expect him to come to your bed after that. But when the time came to consummate the marriage, he could not bring himself to do it. Remember he left you on your wedding night and did not return?"
I nod. Of course I remember. "James had summoned him. Anthony told me I should go to sleep because their talk would take time and I must be tired."
I had thought it was very considerate of him.
"James had called him, but he could have returned and spent the night with you, however late it had been."
"And the next night…all the nights I thought I spent with him…"
He exhales heavily. "It was I, it was always I in your bed. He fell on his knees and begged me, reminding me of our childhood bond. When I refused, he said he would commit suicide rather than face his father. I could not take the chance; I could not have his death on my conscience, Bella."
He pauses for a second, seemingly gathering his courage. "I was also in love with you. Even though I knew what I was doing was wrong, I could not resist the temptation."
"Why did you not ask my father for my hand then?" I ask, shocked. "Why did you let Anthony marry me?"
A wry smile. "Really? You think your father would have agreed to give your hand to me? Bella, I was nothing but the manager of Anthony's stables. I had not gone to college, so I had no prospects of my own. I wasn't even very ambitious. That happened only after you encouraged me to make something of myself. Your confidence in my ability to succeed made me apply myself wholeheartedly to business while in exile, and I did succeed."
"I am gratified that my words meant so much to you, Edward," I murmur, feeling both happy and sad at once. "But you know, my father wouldn't have refused your offer. He is only a gentleman farmer, not a nobleman. And even though you managed the stables, you did have the Masen name."
He shakes his head stubbornly. "What good was my name without money, sweetheart? Your father might have been a farmer, but he was well-to-do nevertheless. He would certainly have married you off to a lawyer or doctor, or a clergyman with a good living at his disposal, had Anthony not proposed so quickly."
"You should have—" I begin, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.
"My lady, the good doctor wishes to speak with you."
Edward looks at me as if asking whether or not he should let Carlisle in. I shrug, and he gets up and opens the door.
Carlisle seems to be his calm self, but his tone is worried. "Isabella, how are you feeling now? Any dizziness or nausea? Any pain anywhere?"
So he was worried, in spite of his assurance to Edward that there was nothing wrong with me. And right now he sounds more like my uncle than a doctor.
"I feel much better, Uncle. And no, there is no dizziness or pain. I just feel tired."
He nods. "That is not surprising. You have received quite a shock. Thankfully, both you and the baby are all right."
I glance at Edward before turning back to my uncle. "So…you know everything?"
"I do," he says with a sigh. "We discussed the whole sad history while we were waiting for you to regain consciousness. Honestly, I don't know what to say."
"Just keep it to yourself, Carlisle," pleads Edward. "Treat is as you would a doctor-patient confidential matter. Please, don't even tell your wife."
"What do you think, Isabella?"
"I agree with Edward, Uncle. Aunt Esme will feel honour-bound to let my parents know, even though it will cause nothing but bitterness and unhappiness. Anthony is dead, and Edward and I…we will talk about it. What is the use of making my parents suffer for something that cannot be changed?"
A thin smile stretches on his lips. "How wise you are, my niece! Yes, Edward confessed to me everything as one would confess his sins to a priest, and like a priest I will keep his secrets—his and Anthony's. You have nothing to worry."
He addresses Edward then. "I will take my leave, Edward. Send word to me if I am required, and I will come immediately."
"And Isabella, have something to eat right now. If you don't feel like having lunch, some toast and tea will do. You have to think of the baby too."
He leaves us. Alice brings us a tray with toast, a sandwich for Edward, and tea. There is also a bowl of fruit.
"Mistress Stanley is quite worried about you, my lady. She has asked if you would like to have anything special for dinner this evening."
I smile, grateful for their concern, for Alice too looks worried, even though she does not say it. "Say thank you to her, Alice. I am sorry she had to make extra for me at lunch time, and I will have whatever she has planned for dinner. No need to change anything in the menu."
"Perhaps we can have dinner a little early?" Edward suggests. Alice makes a curtsy and leaves.
"Does everyone in the house know?" I ask. What a spectacle I must have created, fainting at the breakfast table!
Edward's lips twist on one side. "No, I don't think so. I broke down in front of Carlisle, but that was here, in this room, and we were alone. He asked Mrs Stanley to tell the servants that you were indisposed but it was nothing to be worried about. The footmen only saw me carrying you from the dining room; they don't know why you fainted."
'The letter…where is it?"
He glances at the fireplace, where a healthy fire is burning.
"Oh."
"I thought it best, in case it got into wrong hands."
We have the light meal, and then I send for Lizzie. She has been joining us for lunch lately, and I don't want her to feel neglected. Even though I want to ask Edward many more questions, I spend more than hour chatting and playing with my daughter. Sweet girl that she is, she has brought two of her dolls to my room to cheer me up. It seems Maggie has told her that I wasn't feeling well.
"My dolls made me feel better when I had a cold, Mamma," she informs me in her sweet treble. "If you play with them, you will feel better."
Edward smiles a genuine smile at this, as do I. She has always been good at cheering me up, but today my thoughts are more busy thinking about Edward and her. Lizzie is Edward's daughter. My daughter is also Edward's daughter. I shake my head, unable to believe it even now.
I do feel better afterwards, though it's probably because of Lizzie's sunshiny presence than that of her dolls. After she goes to her room, I ask Edward if we can walk in the rose garden for a while. The weather is quite fair, and I assure him that some fresh air will be beneficial for me. He makes sure that I am dressed warmly, and then we proceed outside.
The rose garden is not blooming yet, of course, but there are tiny buds cropping up on every bush. There is still a chill in the air, so I wrap my shawl around my shoulders snugly. After strolling around for a bit, we sit on a bench, having made sure first that it is dry.
Edward still isn't looking at me. While he was chatting with Lizzie, he had been cheerful enough, but now his shoulders are bowed and his brow lined with worry. And I…I don't know how I should feel.
On one hand, I can understand why he helped Anthony deceive me. His loyalty to his cousin has always been unquestionable, and the bond they have shared since childhood is extremely strong. If he really believed that Anthony would take his life rather than share his secret with James, he would agree to do whatever was required to help his cousin. I think of my sister in a situation where she might be desperate enough to commit suicide. If there was anything, anything at all I could do to save her, I would do it even though it might be wrong in the eyes of religion and society. So how can I blame Edward for his role in the deception?
On the other hand, I cannot understand his passivity. He loved me but allowed his cousin to marry me, a man who did not have a liking for women in the first place. Even if Anthony convinced him that he could do the needful in bed and give me a child or two, how did that excuse the duplicity of the whole plan? Did he imagine that I would be happy to live a life where my husband would only be the master of the house and the provider for our children? Did he think the material comforts I would be surrounded with in my position as the lady of the manor would be enough to make me feel complete? How could he have misjudged me in such a manner?
"What are you thinking, Bella?" he asks softly, but it still rouses me from my troubled state of mind.
I sigh deeply. "Edward, I can understand your willingness to help your cousin. What I cannot understand is what kind of happiness you imagined I would have, living with Anthony. Did you think me so shallow as to be content with a title and the trappings that come with it, while my husband would barely touch me once he had done his duty? And what about your feelings? How would you have lived here, seeing me every day as another man's wife, unhappy but inaccessible to you? How would you have lasted years like that?"
"You are right, I didn't last very long, did I?" he huffs, and then pulls at his hair hard enough to wince. "I don't know what I was thinking, Bella. I was barely twenty, too young and foolish to know anything about women, or even to understand the depth of my own feelings. I knew I loved you, but I didn't know how much. It was only when I witnessed you and Anthony say 'I do' to each other that I realised the extent of my loss."
"When you kissed my hand…" I whisper, remembering the pain in his eyes.
"I could only think—today I have lost her to another man, for ever. I can't do anything about it now. Even more painful than that was the look of shock and betrayal on your face. Bella, it was like someone had stabbed me in the heart."
I shake my head to clear it. "Yes, that. Why did you come to meet me instead of Anthony? Was he really that drunk he couldn't be there himself?"
He nods slowly. "He was drunk, that part was true. However, he hadn't passed out. He was extremely nervous, and he knew postponing the meeting wouldn't help. It would have been the same next time also, so he asked me to go instead, assuring me that once you were married to him things would be different."
"But they weren't."
"No, they were even worse. The first night he didn't return to your room on the pretext of you being tired, but there was nothing he could say the second night, or the nights after that. I don't know if James was suspicious as to his inclination towards men, but he certainly would have hounded him until he had an heir. At least having Lizzie put his suspicions to rest. Still, Anthony must have run out of excuses for not having another child in all the years he was here as your husband."
"That's why James said that," I murmur, remembering. "He told you not to make excuses like Anthony did, regarding my health or some such thing. At that time I thought Anthony couldn't bear to touch me, or it was his way of punishing me for my infidelity. But all the while he was saving himself from his father's anger."
"You must be furious with both of us," says Edward, so quietly that I could barely hear him. "I wish there was some way I could change everything, Bella. If I could go back in time, I swear that I would have done everything differently. I wouldn't have destroyed your life just because he was a coward and I a fool. You were the only innocent party in this whole affair."
I actually snort at his statement. "Innocent? Far from it, Edward. Deceived, yes. Betrayed, yes. But not innocent. How could I be that, when I allowed myself to fall for you even though I was married to another? Just because I was unaware of who was fulfilling the husbandly duty in my bed doesn't make my behaviour morally right. And that last day when I let you make love to me, knowing fully well it was wrong? Maybe I have sinned less than you and Anthony, but I have sinned nevertheless. There had to be some repercussion for that."
If anything, this makes Edward look even guiltier. "I didn't give you much choice, did I? I almost attacked you that day, knowing fully well you were feeling lonely, and that you were attracted to me. I took advantage of your emotional state."
I raise an eyebrow. "I didn't say no to you, did I? I wanted you as much as you wanted me, Edward. Both of us were at fault." Then I remember something else. "The night before, I thought I heard you and Anthony arguing outside my room. What was that about?"
He looks up at the clear sky, with a few fluffy white clouds floating by. The scene is so peaceful, and yet it cannot do away with the chaos in my mind, and most probably in Edward's. When his eyes turn to me, they are dark with untold misery.
"Anthony could see that I was falling deeper in love with you with every passing day. When I told him what had happened after you fell from your horse, he became worried that sooner or later someone would notice our attraction and there would be a scandal. Maybe he had imagined that having you to myself during the nights would be enough for me? Anyway, as soon as it came to light that you were with child, he forbade me to meet you. And I avoided you during the daytime because I knew very well that I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you."
I nod, thinking of those months. "Even if you had been able to keep your distance, I might have slipped in some way. I kept on telling myself that it was wrong for me to be attracted to you, but it was so difficult to stay away. I felt incomplete somehow, looking for you every day but only managing to catch a glimpse of you here and there. I was happy that I was going to be a mother, and yet unhappy that I couldn't have you near me."
Edward draws me into his embrace and buries his face in my hair. "I am so, so sorry, my darling. It should have been the happiest time of your life, and I—we turned it into a nightmare. I will never forgive myself for that."
Could I forgive him? So far it had seemed to me that Anthony had played upon Edward's loyalty and friendship, and Edward had thought himself too poor to marry me but could not resist falling in love with me even though he must have known nothing would come of it.
If I blamed him for that, I should blame myself in equal measure for not resisting him.
"So what happened then? Why were you shouting at him?"
He raises his head, lets a little distance between us so he can look at me. "That night I threatened Anthony that I would tell you everything if he did not, or at least if he couldn't find a way for us to be together. I was quite desperate by then, I suppose, for I proposed to him that he should just let us leave for the continent quietly, and he could tell people that we had run away. I didn't even care how it would besmirch your good name, Bella. Forgive me for being so thoughtless; it was a foolish plan."
I stare at him in amazement and then shake my head. "What did Anthony say to that?"
"He refused, of course, to let me do either. When I persisted, he proposed to me that we should first find out how strongly you felt about me. If you really loved me, you would confess so in front of him, and he would allow us to leave. If you did not, I would leave alone, but he would find a way for us to be together later on, maybe bring you to the continent and fake an accident, tell everybody that you drowned or fell or a cliff or something. In both cases, he agreed to give me enough money so that I could start a small business and we could live comfortably."
"That was completely unfair to me, Edward," I gasp, my eyes wide with disbelief and indignation. "Did you really think I would confess my love for you in front of my husband? I wasn't even sure of what I felt for you, and I already felt so guilty for what I did understand. And shouldn't you have let me know that you loved me before letting Anthony in the room, minutes after we had been intimate? Can you even imagine how terrible I felt at that moment?"
My voice rises towards the end, becomes shrill enough that even I notice it. Edward's expression is pinched, his eyes almost squeezed shut. When he finally answers me, his voice has a slight quiver in it.
"I know, Bella, I know that now. I have beaten myself countless times during the last six years for being so idiotic. Obviously it had seemed a good idea to me at that time. I had convinced myself that you must know how much I loved you and would not hesitate to declare yours." He exhales heavily. "If only I had talked to you that afternoon instead of giving in to my baser instincts!"
I have been thinking of something I wanted to ask about all this while. "Edward, did you know that Anthony was going to walk in at that moment? Was that why you had approached me, so that he could ask me how I felt about you?"
He looks puzzled. "No, I had assumed he would be back in the evening. I have no idea why he came back so early. Though of course I wasn't supposed to be in your room then, so it was probably a matter of chance. Or perhaps he wanted to discuss something with you?"
"Perhaps," I agree absently. It doesn't matter now.
We go inside soon after. There are more questions I want to ask him, but I have had enough for one day. I ask Edward to give me a day or two to digest all the information he has heaped upon me, and he readily agrees. I suspect he will need something stronger than wine tonight before he can go to sleep.
A.N. : Phew, that was heavy! Did I miss anything? Let me know and I will include it in the next chapter.
Fic Rec: 'The Cliffs' and 'Comp Sem 101', by BornOnHalloween. Trust me, you wouldn't want to miss these!