This one is being put up quickly because it's the last of the pre-written chapters I had…sooner it goes up the soon we get onto some original Rosalie to go along with sweetheart Emmett.

Chapter 5- Rosalie - The Perfect Couple

"Come on Rosalie, we're going to be late," Royce stood impatiently in the doorway of my bedroom, tapping his feet.

"I know, I'm sorry!" l pulled at the stiff buckle on my shoe with fingers made awkward with haste. On our way out the door for the Charitable Foundation's Annual Ball I had tripped on the step and broken the heel of my shoe. Bad enough to have been so clumsy in full view of Royce's parents waiting in the limousine, but now Royce had followed me upstairs to my room and was watching with irritated eyes, making me even more flustered as I tried to put myself back together again.

The buckle finally came free with a jerk, but snagged on the delicate silk of my stocking and tore it. I looked across at Royce. "I have to change my stockings," I said.

"So do it," Royce didn't move, his eyes suddenly alert. "Go on Rose, it's not as though we're not going to be married in less than a month." He frowned. "Just hurry up- my parents are waiting."

For a moment I dithered. Mother would never approve…but of course Royce was right, we'd be married soon enough. I couldn't keep his parents waiting longer than I had to. My parents had left for the ball themselves twenty minutes earlier. Flushing scarlet, I turned my back on Royce, pulling up my dress so I could unclip my stockings.

I didn't hear him move to stand behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt his hand. I went to push my dress back down but with his other hand he took a fistful of fabric, keeping it bunched up on my thighs. "Nice…" he murmured, his eyes scanning the length of my bare legs, from my toes to the dress pushed up high on my thighs.

I didn't say a word, but my face was scarlet and my eyes huge as I looked up at him.

He knelt down beside me, one hand heavy on my leg, and looked into my eyes. "You're beautiful when you're afraid, Rosalie." His hand stroked my cheek. "You're going to be my wife, and you won't hide from me then will you? Will you?"

Dumbly I shook my head, and shivered when Royce ran his hand down my leg and then back up my thigh, pushing my dress up even higher. He gave me the strangest smile before he stood up again.

"Good. Now get dressed," he said briskly. "We're late as it is."

I took a deep breath and pulled on a fresh pair of stockings and new shoes as quickly as my shaking hands could manage, taking up my wrap since the night was cool. Royce took my arm with as much deference and courtesy as he ever did, and by the time I was sliding into the limousine with his parents I was able to smile at them apparently unruffled.

The limousine was the height of luxury, and I enjoyed riding in it. I loved being with Royce's family and all the privileges of their wealth and position in the community that it afforded. I loved the way that when we arrived at the Stratford-Banks' home we were immediately ushered in and greeted with graciousness that almost bordered on deference. I loved knowing that everyone was looking at me with envy and admiration. I loved having my photograph taken for the society pages of the newspaper, and knowing that I looked beautiful.

"I have to go and find someone," Royce murmured to me after the photograph was taken.

"That's fine," I answered, adding teasingly "Don't be long though!"

He laughed. "Okay Princess."

He disappeared into the crowd and I moved through it, accepting compliments and smiles and making small talk. I had pushed Royce's odd behaviour in my bedroom well out of my mind by then, and was back to feeling happy and confident. When one of the Stratford-Banks sons asked me to dance, I didn't even hesitate to accept and within a moment I was out on the floor with him, laughing in exhilaration at the fast music.

I looked around for Royce as I danced but couldn't see him, and didn't really worry too much. I had known my dance partner, Carter, for most of my life and we'd always been friends. We moved well together on the dance floor and he had a biting sense of humour that always made me laugh, so I enjoyed his company enough that it was easy to lose track of time.

Eventually Royce found me, approaching Carter and I with a careless smile. "Carter, old man, good to see you."

"You too Royce." The two of them clasped hands briefly. "Not long now until you will have bagged Rosalie," Carter teased, winking at me. "I've known the minx all her life, and you're getting a handful with her!"

I poked my tongue out at him, laughing, but the look Royce threw me sent a shiver of unease up my spine. His hand closed around my upper arm.

"Of course, I'm a lucky man." Royce's fingers tightened on my arm. "If you'll excuse us now Carter, I need a word with Rosalie."

He towed me off the dance floor and out into the garden. His iron grip on my arm gave me little choice but to hurry to keep up with him as he strode through the garden and into a secluded space by the greenhouses.

I tried to pull away. "Royce, stop it…you're hurting me." His fingers gripped even tighter, digging in to the soft flesh of my arm until I couldn't stop a whimper of pain. "Royce…"

"I don't ever want to see that again," Royce's voice was flat and hard and I cringed at the sound of it. "You…flirting like some common slut…" His free hand seized mine, crushing my fingers together as he brought my hand up to my eyes. I could see the diamond on my engagement ring, blue in the dim moonlight. "You see that?" he went on harshly. "That's my ring. You're going to be my wife…I will own you Rosalie…"

"I didn't do anything!" I scrabbled helplessly at his hand on my arm, twisting to get free as tears stung my eyes. "Please Royce …I wouldn't…I'm sorry!"

He released his grip on my arm so suddenly that I staggered, but then his arms went around me and he kissed me, hard enough to bruise my lips and make me dizzy, holding me crushed against him, his hips grinding in to me…oh God, what are you doing?

"You're beautiful Rose," Royce growled, his eyes boring into mine and his breath hot on his face. "I don't want anyone else to touch or look at what's mine. I don't want you ever to look at anyone else…just me. Understand?"

"Yes!" I gasped. "I understand! Please Royce…"

I was mortified to feel tears on my face. Royce took a step back, and then his hands were on me again, but this time there was only gentleness as he took his handkerchief and wiped my face. "Don't cry little Rose," he said tenderly. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Watching you flirt with him just made me crazy with jealousy…" He caressed my arms, and even in the pale light out here in the night I could see the dark marks his fingers had left in my pale skin. Gently Royce took my beaded wrap and draped it over my shoulders, covering up the bruises and kissing me so sweetly that I felt myself leaning into him again. "My innocent Rose…"

"Royce!"

Oh my god! I stumbled backwards, horrified to see Royce's father glaring at us from the path. I prayed he couldn't see the blush that was burning my cheeks.

"Father…" Royce whined, but Mr King stepped towards us, every line of his body radiating anger.

"Royce, I've been looking for you. I want a word. Rosalie, go back to the house." He didn't even look at me.

"Go on Rose," Royce muttered.

I didn't hesitate. Pulling my wrap tighter around me so that it wouldn't fall I stepped quickly around Mr King and back to the path. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. All I wanted was to get back to the lighted house but my legs were shaking too much, and I knew my face was flushed. I stopped for a moment, leaning against the cool glass walls of the greenhouse and breathing deeply, and only then did I realise that I could clearly hear Royce and his father.

"By God, you're like a cat playing with a mouse," Mr King's voice was strident with disgust. "I won't have it Royce! I've heard all the stories and I've told you that I'll not let you bring shame on this family and sully our good name because you can't control yourself! I saw you dragging that girl out of there…"

"I didn't do anything," Royce said sulkily. "Rosalie's my fiancée, I can…"

"No, you can't!" Mr King roared. "Not yet! Three weeks…you marry her in three weeks. Until then you keep your nose clean and don't you dare do anything to her that might screw that up!"

"She…"

"Damn it Royce, I don't want to know! I found you that girl- she's from a good family and she knows how to behave. For Christ's sake, she's even pretty!" Royce's father snarled. "She's the wife you need, and you will marry her and get a baby on her and give me a grandson, damn you…I don't care what you do with her after that!"

I fled. I couldn't have them know I'd overhead that, and I didn't want to hear anymore. What was going on? What were all these undercurrents and hidden elements that I couldn't understand…surely my perfect life wasn't going to be complicated? I was beautiful, and Royce loved me and wanted to marry me, we were going to be rich and important and…surely that was going to be enough and I was going to be happy?

My pride and my will had me moving gracefully into the house as if nothing untoward had happened. I smiled and nodded and even blew a kiss across the room to a friend; and if my wrap hid an arm that bore the dark imprint of a hand in bruised flesh, and I locked myself in the powder room for a moment and let the tears fall, no one would ever know. I waited until I was composed before I went out, finding my mother redoing her lipstick, peering in the mirror.

"Rosalie, I just wanted to see how your evening is?" she said, coming over and frowning as she smoothed my hair. "I saw you with Royce earlier, and he looked a little cross."

I stood docilely and let her, fidgeting with the ends of my wrap. "I'm a little tired," I said, my eyes low. "Royce…it's fine. He wasn't pleased that I was dancing with Carter Stratford-Banks, that's all."

Mother paused in her ministrations. "Don't upset him Rosalie," she said at last. "You're going to be his wife, and it may not always be easy. You need to always be mindful of him."

"But..."

"No," Mother shook her head. "No buts, Rosalie. Royce is able to offer you everything we have ever wanted for you, you must learn to manage him." She kissed my forehead. "Now put a smile on your face and go back out there. He'll be waiting for you."

Royce was waiting for me, smiling like nothing had happened, although his jaw was tense and I could smell the alcohol on his breath when he gently kissed my cheek. But he was gallant and charming, and we danced and he made me laugh and I tried to forget what I had overheard in the garden.

We were alone in the limousine on the drive home, his parents having left earlier. Royce sprawled back in the seat, tossing his jacket on the floor and removing his tie and unbuttoning half his shirt. I'd never seen him in a state of dishevelment before, and I couldn't take my eyes off him.

"You're blushing, little Rose," Royce said teasingly, leaning towards me.

I certainly was. As he moved I could see the dark curly hair on his chest, and sprawled back on the seat with his legs apart as he had been had made everything in his trousers embarrassingly obvious to my innocent eyes. He slid across the seat to me, holding me in his hypnotic gaze.

"I like to see you blushing," he murmured against my lips, kissing me. "I like it that you get so flustered when I look at you…every time I looked at you tonight I remembered the way you looked with your dress up and my hand on your thigh." Still kissing me, with kisses so gentle and sweet that I found myself sinking into his arms, I barely noticed at first that his hand was sliding up my leg, pulling my dress up with it. It wasn't until I felt his fingers on the bare skin between my stocking tops and my knickers that I realised that things were getting a little out of hand.

"Royce…"

"Shhh, Rose, shhh, don't talk…" He kissed me again, distracting me in a way that worked until I felt his fingers brushing at the lace edge of my knickers.

"No, Royce!" I struggled to pull away, but I was backed into the corner of the seat and there was nowhere to go. "Royce, you can't…the driver!" I was mortified at the idea that anyone, even the driver, might see me with my dress all hitched up and Royce's hands trying to touch me.

"It doesn't matter," Royce muttered. "God Rose, we're practically married…" His mouth came down on mine, and he kissed me so ardently that I couldn't help but respond, even as I tried to press my legs together to keep his hands away. "I don't want to wait…you drive me crazy…" Royce moved his hand from trying to navigate his way into my knickers, instead slipping it inside my dress so he could grasp my breast.

I was starting to panic when the car slowed and then stopped, and the driver tapped on the privacy screen that had thankfully remained up during our drive. I was home. "Royce," I gasped, squirming away as best I could in the confined space. "You have to stop, we're home…my parents!"

Royce groaned and flopped back on the seat. I tugged at my dress, trying to get everything in order before someone saw me. I was shaking, even more so after I looked across at him and saw the swelling bulge in his trousers. I knew that men were made different to women, but I didn't really know how and seeing that…all those whispers and stories and my mother's "you'll find out when you're older and married" answer to my childish questions suddenly took on a menacing air.

"I have to go inside," I said tremblingly.

"Of course," Royce climbed out of the car and took my arm up the walk. At the door he smiled at me with his usual charm and kissed me gently and lovingly on the mouth. "You were the most beautiful girl at the ball tonight," he told me. "I do adore you, my little Rose…tell me that you love me too. Tell me that I'm the only one for you."

"You're the only one for me," I repeated, because I was naïve enough to believe it and besotted enough with him to overlook everything and do what I could to please him. I was rewarded with a smile and another tender kiss, and then I went inside and up to my room, exhausted and bewildered.

I was in my nightgown with my face scrubbed, and was brushing my hair when Mother came in to say goodnight. She took the brush from my hand and ran it through my long hair.

"Mother," I said slowly, "I wanted to ask you about…when I'm married…what Royce will expect." My voice trailed off.

He wants to touch me. I know there's more to it than what he was doing tonight, but I don't know what and I don't know what to do and I'm frightened Mother…

Mother's face was a dull red as she stopped brushing my hair and began weaving it into a loose braid. "You mean in the bedroom?"

"I…I suppose." My face was burning.

"There are certain things that go along with being a wife," Mother said. "Of course you know that…he'll have needs Rosalie, and it's your marital obligation to fulfil them. It might be embarrassing, but you must just be a good girl and do what he tells you will please him. It will be all right in the end, and that's how he'll give you a baby, so it is necessary. Just do what he tells you." She tied the end of my plait and kissed me on the top of the head. "Now, into bed with you."

I wasn't going to get anything more informative out of her. She was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, and I was beyond embarrassed to have even bought up the subject. Turning out the light I lay in bed, running my silky braid through my fingers and feeling unshed tears burning in my eyes, telling myself it would be fine. Royce would be my husband, he would take care of me and love me and never hurt me…wouldn't he?