For Pree.

Disclaimer still applies. I own nothing, as usual. Any recognizable scenes, similar plotlines, characters, quotes, Shakespearean plays, all belong to their respective owners. Of course, the love letters belong to me and so does the rest of the story.

A Delicious Torment

He wishes for her to comprehend the depth of his emotion,

She wishes he would realize it is her he possesses such an emotion for.

Together, they both desire the same thing,

Except one is blind and cannot see who his heart beats for.

~o~

"The desire of the man is for the desire of the woman but the desire of the woman is for the desire of the man." – Germaine De Stael.

The next day awakened with the bright sun peering through the curtains and the promise of a good morning. Isabella woke up and took a hot bath before her new personal maid, Mary, helped her into an S-bend corset, which was followed by a number of petticoats. After being aided into her undergarments, she slipped into a high collared green satin dress. The dress had an intricate embroidery pattern at the neckline with short puffy sleeves. It cinched her waist, which was narrowed further with the aid of a belt.

Isabella stared at her reflection in the mirror as Mary began to style her hair. At the sight of Mary dressing her hair, a melancholic feeling settled in her chest at the thought of Alice's absence. Since her scandalous marriage to Jasper Whitlock, which came as a shock to the elite of Forks, Alice had moved out of the Swan Manor to her own house where she resided with her husband. They had seldom seen each other due to a couple of reasons. The newly wedded couple wanted to spend some time on their own before Jasper was enlisted in the army. Alice had also thought it unwise, and uncomfortable, to visit a place where she once worked as a maid.

Hitherto, Isabella had not considered the possibility of a visit to her friend's house, for she did not want to cause any discomfort for Alice. However, she needed an acquaintance that she could relate her feelings to, and Rosalie proved to be of no assistance.

Once Mary had finished with her morning duties, Isabella sent her away and decided to go and have breakfast. She tried to muster up the fortitude that she knew she needed to face Rosalie and Edward as she made her way downstairs. Yesterday, she had failed in controlling her emotions; and it was in Edward's best interest that she did so, at least until she could find a suitable time to inform him of the truth. With regard to herself, she also thought it best to try and avoid him under any circumstances. She wished for their paths not crossing as she entered the dining room.

Much to her dissatisfaction, she found Edward sitting at the head of the table, concentrating on a newspaper. On the table, in front of him, was a tray of poached eggs on toast, hot muffins, broiled veal cutlets, fried tomatoes, grapes, cake, and a cup of steaming black coffee.

He dropped his newspaper on the table and stood up immediately as soon as he saw her. "Good morning, Miss Bella." He smiled. "Please, may I have the pleasure of your company for breakfast? Rose and Jane decided to go and see your father's electric car before he left. They must have decided to take a turn about the fields. And I am afraid I have not the faintest idea where our mothers might have gone to. So I find myself alone, with the company of Madam Willborough, who, unfortunately for me, is dozing off in the parlor."

Isabella began to think that perhaps there was a force counteracting all her plans. For when she decided to avoid Edward at all costs, fate had intervened and presented an opportunity for her to be trapped in his presence, alone, and without a chaperone! Should she decide to leave him, it would prove to be discourteous on her part. However, the alternative was no more pleasant.

After a few moments of hesitation, she moved to the table and sat at the opposite end from him. Perhaps, if enough distance separated them, she would not be forced to make any sort of communication with him that could possibly lead her into trouble.

On the contrary, Edward found the distance to be quite incomprehensible. He did not understand why she was going to such lengths to avoid talking to him. He knew that her mother must have upset her yesterday by bringing up her personal matters at the table during dinner, and it had been his fault, but was she still sad because of it? Had she lied yesterday when she said that she was not angry with him? Or was it decorum that dictated she leave such a void between them. Perhaps, she thought of him as a rogue who would seize the slightest opportunity to maul her in the absence of company, even though he was in love with her best friend.

He sat down and picked up his newspaper, looking slightly befuddled, and then shook his head trying to clear the image from his mind.

"Is anything wrong?" Isabella asked, just as the butler arrived at her side, pouring tea from a porcelain pitcher into her mug.

"No…not quite," he said, turning back to his newspaper, as her eyes flitted to the tea being poured into her mug. "Except," –he dropped the newspaper on the table– "I am afraid I have bad breath for you to choose a seat so far away from me." Edward's face was amused as he took a sip of his coffee, his lips twitching as he tried to hold back a smile. "It would require an awful lot of energy just to make a conversation, with you over there and me right here. Or do you not find me interesting enough to engage with?" His left eyebrow rose up. "I promise I am not a boring chap, no matter what you have heard about England," he joked.

Isabella smiled and obliged his request by moving a couple of chairs closer. The butler followed, carrying her breakfast tray.

Before she could even take a seat, he tsked in disapproval. "I swear," he raised his hands in surrender, "I do not bite." He grinned.

How was she supposed to deny him anything when his grin made her weak in her knees? She moved closer still until she was just two chairs away from him and she was sure he was satisfied with her position before she took a seat.

They ate breakfast in utter silence.

Isabella used this stillness to eat her muffin and recollect her thoughts. Being in his company was absolute torture. It was painful to sit next to him and be unable to share her feelings with him. She considered the notion of telling him the truth, but then decided against it. She needed to inform Rosalie first before telling him, so she redirected her thoughts to a different subject.

"So how was England?" she asked, even though she already knew. "I suppose it is much different from here."

"Not drastically." He smiled again, pleased that she had cultivated a conversation. "It is very much the same but I would say more beautiful. The Edwardian era has brought the rise of socialism and changes in technology, though I am sure that is also because of the twentieth century. The world is changing. Of course, social class is still considered to be important. A lower class man cannot mix with an upper class man. It is considered highly inappropriate, but here in America, it seems to be not as strict. I suppose that is a good thing."

Isabella thought perhaps that was the reason why he was bewildered when he had seen her riding back with Jacob yesterday, for he was a blacksmith. Perhaps, he thought it inappropriate to be riding on a horse with him. Some aristocrats took it as an offence to be caught mixing with the lower class, but generally, their accommodation to the lower class was not as severe as the English, just as Edward had said himself.

"But of course, it seems just the same, with the beautiful ladies and their lavish gowns."

The silence settled on the table again before Isabella spoke. "And how was school? I hope you found it well." It was as if physical pain ailed her. Trying to make this kind of conversation with him, when all she wanted to do was tell him how much she loved him and how long she had waited, was tearing at her chest.

It was torturous to think that after waiting all this time for him, she would have to wait further still. Wait before she could finally be in his arms, and before he could acknowledge her with loving eyes, rather than a platonic glance. The desperate longing was entirely too difficult for her to bear.

"Yes, thank you. Medicine is one of the most remarkable things I have come to learn, as I said at dinner yesterday." His eyes were extremely bright and green, but then his brows furrowed. "I am aware that sometimes, my mother–although she is proud of me–she and some other people think it is absolutely unnecessary to be acquiring a profession in the medical field. Especially considering the wealth we have. But I cannot be complete if I do not help people; and what better way to do that than to follow in my father's footsteps." Edward smiled at her, taking a sip of his coffee. "It is the same thing my father felt before he became a doctor."

Isabella's heart thawed with admiration as he showed her a part of himself that was magnanimous. Could she fall in love with him any more than she already had?

"I cannot express how much joy I felt when the Duke of Devonshire gave me my very first–"

"–surgical knife," she completed impetuously, and quickly turned her gaze to the pastry in front of her in embarrassment.

He looked at her with surprise and wondered how she could have possibly known about such information he had only shared with Rosalie.

Realizing the implication of her statement, Isabella added, "Forgive me, Rosalie informed me when you told her in one of your letters." She was shocked at how fast she was able to fabricate a reason. Once a lie was told, they just kept coming.

"Oh," was the only response Edward gave, as once again, the guilt he had felt for not writing to his friend encompassed him.

Isabella decided that from that moment on, any sort of conversation with him was inadvisable, as she had almost confessed such a trivial detail. She decided that she would quickly finish her breakfast and leave.

However, Edward had other plans.

"I know I should not worry you with this or even share this with you in the first place. It is nothing serious. However, considering that you are Rosalie's friend and also my friend, I cannot help but feel a great inclination to express my feelings with you about yesterday."

"Whatever do you mean?" asked Isabella.

Edward sighed and completely disregarded the newspaper. "I found it odd that Rose did not seem too fond of our…of the song I played for her at the pianoforte yesterday. It almost felt as if she did not recognize it at first. I felt somewhat disconcerted, considering it is our song." Isabella trembled at the way he pronounced the last two words with conviction. "We have talked about it constantly in our letters. I just assumed that once I played it, she would express a great pleasure, or at least, some recognition to the melody."

Isabella blinked in astonishment, and then thought it was absolutely necessary for her to utter her reply with careful thought and observation.

"Well, perhaps it does not sound the same as when she plays it on the cello."

"She plays the cello?" asked Edward with a puzzled countenance. "I thought she played the violin."

Isabella swallowed hard. The more she spoke, the more trouble she dug herself into. She quickly thought of a way to rectify the situation when Rosalie and Jane came to her rescue, sauntering into the dining room.

Still reeling from the perturbation of her earlier conversation with Edward, she did not realize Rosalie had greeted her.

"What on earth is wrong with you, Bella? You look as if your breakfast might make a reappearance," Rosalie said, looking at her strangely. She was dressed in a two-piece pink dress that complimented her beauty. "Are you still unwell?"

Edward's eyes turned to Isabella and her gaze quickly dropped to the table. If she was still indisposed, he felt guilty for stressing her with his worries.

"Yes, I am feeling a bit down," she replied, which was not entirely a lie.

"Well, then, you must return to your bedroom at once! Let the maids fetch the doctor," Rosalie said, finding herself a seat beside Edward. "You need your rest. I am sure Edward will completely understand if you cannot join us this afternoon." She looked at Edward with one of her flirtatious smiles.

Wishing not to inflict more punishment on herself, should she stay in their presence, but refusing the notion of staying locked in her bedroom, Isabella said, "I think I will be properly healed once I go and visit Alice." She stood up.

"Oh, then, we shall accompany you. Or do you object, Edward?" Rose glanced at Edward, who acceded to the visit. Isabella thought it would be completely rude if she rejected their company, so she did not say anything further.

One of the maids was summoned to get their pelerines and parasols as Edward called for the landau. Isabella went upstairs to get a green hat and change her gloves to a pale colored pair that was suitable for riding.

When she returned downstairs, everyone was dressed in their appropriate apparel. Edward wore a grey frock coat and a high black hat.

Once she stepped out of the house, Isabella closed her eyes and sighed. The sound of birds chirping in the air and the pleasant scent of blossoming spring flowers assaulted her. The air was cool and the sun was up and bright against the blue sky. Spring had always been her favorite season because of the rebirth and re-growth of nature. For a moment, she felt relaxed until Edward called out her name from a distance.

"Yes?" she answered, opening her eyes and realizing that Rose and Jane had already entered the landau. "Oh." She held her parasol over her head and walked to meet them, hearing Edward's amused laughter.

"Miss Bella." A dazzling smile, that was sure to stop her heartbeat, spread across his face as he offered his hand to help her into the carriage.

Once her gloved hand settled on his naked palm, a tingling sensation shot through her arm and made her almost stiff as a rod. She jerked slightly at the startling feeling of it, the touch sending a trail of fire along her nerves, all the way to her heart, which started to beat faster.

That was the very first contact they had made since his arrival.

Whether Edward was overcome with the same heightened sensation that sizzled through her, she could not tell. For within a second, he had hoisted her up into the carriage.

The fixed high glazed door of the carriage was closed. Sitting vis-à-vis, Edward sat beside Jane while Isabella sat beside Rosalie. The sound of a whip permeated through the silence and the horses moved forward. Isabella clasped her hands tightly, still feeling slightly disoriented from Edward's touch.

An involuntary glance caused her to notice Rosalie's clad leg inching closer to Edward's. The torture of this sight was allayed when she turned her gaze to the window. The street was filled with phaetons, bicycles—all driving along the street—and pedestrians. Gentlemen were clicking their canes against the pavement, accompanied by ladies on their arms, protected from the sun by their colorful parasols, while little children were running around.

"The weather's absolutely lovely today," Rosalie commented. "I do wish you had joined us when we went for a walk. I would have very much enjoyed your company." She placed an affectionate hand on Edward's knee.

Edward raised her gloved hand from his knee and kissed it. "Then, I am sorry I could not join you. I believe I am still trying to grow accustomed to the time difference."

"Oh, it is all right." She waved it off with a smile that showed her white teeth. "I had fun with your cousin instead. She told me she plays the piano, just as well as you do I believe, and I told her I would love to hear her play it sometime."

Jane laughed nervously. "I am not really that good."

"She is very modest," Edward interjected.

"He spoils me," Jane replied.

"Do you sing, Jane?" Rose asked. "Perhaps, you could sing for us this evening while Edward plays the piano. I am very sure the court could use a voice like yours during balls."

"I have never sung for a big audience before. I am not sure I could do it," Jane said, feeling diffident.

"Nonsense! I have money to wager that you sing better than Jessica Stanley who usually sounds like she is squawking," Rosalie said, recollecting the sound of Jessica's voice and grimacing. "Although, she is married now, so I should stop referring to her by her maiden name. Thank heavens! We no longer have to endure her horrible voice. And to think that James of all people would marry her is such a pity. I regarded him to have higher standards."

"Rosalie…" Isabella sighed.

"What? I only speak the truth," Rosalie said, glancing at Isabella. "And it is a bitter pill for most people to swallow."

Isabella's eyes were still staring far off, but her body was acutely aware of the man who sat adjacent to her. At a point in time, she could even feel the weight of his gaze upon her. But that only lasted for a moment, before his eyes were drawn back to Rosalie.

They had changed the discourse of Jessica's horrible singing to another topic that Isabella did not concern herself with. All she knew was that Rosalie was laughing and Edward spoke while Jane contributed to the conversation at intervals.

As they turned into a street that was beside the central market, Isabella caught the sight of Jacob standing next to a huge, bulky man. They appeared to be making some kind of trade.

"John," Isabella called the coachman. "Could you please stop the carriage?" she said, as the occupants of the carriage looked at her in surprise. John suddenly held the reins and brought the four-in-hand carriage to a complete stop. "I am very sorry for my sudden behavior, but I just saw a friend of mine and I would like to greet him. Would you please excuse me?" she asked politely. "I will not be long."

"Oh, certainly," Edward replied.

John came down from his bench seat and opened the door for her, assisting her out of the carriage.

"Who is your friend?" Rosalie asked, looking through the window for who Isabella could have possibly seen in such a rowdy place.

"Oh, no one in particular," Isabella dismissed, opening up her parasol. "I will be right back." She turned away from the landau and walked toward Jacob's direction, grateful that an opportunity to leave the carriage had presented itself.

"I believe ten horseshoes should not be that expensive," the large, broad-shouldered man with a missing tooth said, frowning. "Jacob, I do not have that kind of money to pay."

"There is always another customer but I made these specifically for you because you insisted," Jacob said, shoving his right hand into the pocket of his beige colored pants.

The stranger's eyes flickered to Isabella, and Jacob turned to see what caught his attention, when, low and behold, a recognizable, beautiful lady was standing behind him.

"Miss Bella?" he asked, slightly bewildered but delighted to see her, while the stranger bowed his head and walked away. "What a surprise! What brings you here? I was unaware that ladies took such trips to the market. Do you not have maids that do that for you?" he teased. "Perhaps I could persuade you to buy something." He smiled.

She laughed. "No, I was just on my way to visit a friend. My carriage is back there." Her head half-rotated in a gesture to the landau.

"You look like a damsel in distress," Jacob whispered conspiratorially, as he followed Isabella's gaze.

The door of the carriage was open, with Rosalie peering out of it. Her hat obscured half of her face, but her full pouty lips were still somewhat visible. Her left leg was posed coquettishly over the edge of the carriage. Edward stood beside the door of the carriage, next to the black horses. He was holding his hat and watching the interaction between her and Jacob cautiously.

"Oh, look, it is Edward Cullen!" gushed one girl standing beside a woman selling oranges from a stall in a distance, drawing the attention of several pairs of eager eyes. "I heard he was handsome, but I did not believe he was that handsome!"

"I wonder who he is betrothed to. Some say, the beautiful hoyden, Miss Hale, has caught his eye," another one said.

"Oh, I wish him success with that. That lady cannot be tamed!" an older woman who was passing by with a basket of tomatoes said, as she stopped and looked at the direction of the carriage.

"I wish he would marry me," a girl, who looked to be the age of fifteen, said with starry eyes.

"Keep on dreaming, Sarah. You are no Miss Alice!"

"You mean Mrs. Whitlock."

"Well, she was one of us and look at where she is now!"

"For God's sake, women! Move along! All you gossips with nothing better to do," barked an old man, holding a wooden stick, and the crowd of women dispersed, giggling.

"Would that be the gentleman you were crying over yesterday?" Jacob asked, his eyes moving from Edward to Isabella.

A red color painted Isabella's cheeks as she bit her lip and nodded.

"Well, then, would you permit me to escort you to your friend's place?" Jacob asked.

"Oh, would you?" Her eyes looked hopeful.

"Of course, I just have to collect my money and you can catch a ride with me on the wagon."

"I would be delighted." She smiled. "I will just go and let them know."

When Isabella got to the landau, Edward, who had been somewhat leaning against the carriage, stood up straight upon her approach.

"I have decided to spend some time with my friend," she said. "So he will drive me to Alice's house in his wagon," Isabella continued in a small voice as his green eyes stared into hers. The concentrated look he was giving her made it hard for her to speak. Unsure of what to say, Isabella's gaze dropped to the earth beneath their feet. She could not comprehend why she always felt so tense around him, as if any sudden movement would set her on fire.

"You would rather catch a ride in a wagon?" Rosalie asked in disbelief, breaking the moment passing between Isabella and Edward. "Are those things even suitable for lady passengers?"

"Yes, I believe so," Isabella answered, feeling uncertain.

"Okay, then," Rosalie said, drawing her leg back inside the carriage and sitting properly. "Let's go, Edward."

"Are you sure?" Edward asked. His eyes were on Jacob, who was unloading some of the goods he had come to sell from his wagon.

For a moment, a pleasant thought crossed Isabella's mind that perhaps he would miss her company, or perhaps he was jealous, for she was going off with another man. But then it occurred to her, that he was only acting the role of a gentleman who was uncertain about the blacksmith that was accompanying her without any supervision or chaperone.

He did not trust Jacob Black and he was worried about her safety.

Isabella answered in a louder tone that was sure to emphasize the confidence in her choice. "I am sure." With that, she turned and left Edward standing by the carriage and walked back to meet Jacob.

~o~

"Edward Cullen is the object of your affection?" Jacob asked with a surprised expression, cracking his whip as the wagon went up the bridge. "I would have never guessed."

Isabella released a despondent sigh, twisting her fingers in her lap. "He does not know of it, which makes this entirely unbearable."

"I should suppose so. And he has affection for Rosalie Hale, the one who goes around breaking people's hearts all over the place?"

"He has loved her since childhood, how can I compete?"

"And you have loved him the same; I say it is fair game."

"It is not that straightforward."

"Oh, I do not think it to be so at all. Love triangles usually constitute a mess. After all, the emotion itself is a bit complicated."

"And what would you know, oh wise one?" she teased. "Have you ever been in love?"

"Never before." Jacob shook his head. "I did think I was in love with a girl once, when I was thirteen. But I am certain that emotion was caused by puberty. There is a thin line between lust and love and most people seem to confuse the two."

"And how old are you now?" Isabella inquired, turning to look at him.

"Eighteen." He smiled proudly, as if such a number was to be considered an accomplishment.

"Dear heavens! You are young!" Isabella exclaimed in astonishment, her brown eyes expanding in wonder. She would have conjectured an age older than twenty, but as she looked at him closely, it seemed very unlikely that he was as old as she had predicted. "And yet you look so huge for an eighteen year old boy."

"I am not that young," he huffed, sitting up straight and trying to hang onto a thread of his virility. "I would like to think that such an age brands a boy as a man. Besides, I do not see how size and age correlate," he finished his argument, feigning annoyance.

"To think such a grown man could sulk astonishes me." Isabella laughed at him, knowing he did not take offence to her remarks.

"And how old are you milady? The one who presumes to have great knowledge about love." He bumped his shoulder playfully with hers, the corners of his lips lifting up with a teasing smile.

"My age is of no consequence to you, Jacob Black!" Isabella smacked his arm, trying to distract him from the smile on her face. "And I presume to possess no such thing," she finished, unable to stop from laughing mirthfully.

At that moment, she could not recall a time when she had felt so care-free, without having to think about proper manners and decorum. She derived a sense of freedom from his company, which she found herself to thoroughly take pleasure in. This was probably due to the sincerity and a certain kind of warmth his character seemed to possess. She almost felt she could make him a confidant.

They conversed all the way to the Whitlock's. On the way, Jacob disclosed the sobriquet the town folks had given him—'Black the Blacksmith'—and Isabella teased him about it, gaining satisfaction with the way he seemed to be embarrassed. He, then, gave a vague description about his job and suggested that she come visit him sometime so he could show her how to forge metals.

And, at long last, they reached the Whitlock estate.

Author's Notes:

The lovely TwiDi and my lover, Mrs Boyscout, pre-read this for me. And Phoenixhunter47 is an amazing beta, who always listens to me and answers my questions, makes great suggestions and ensures that all grammatical errors are corrected. She and Heather Dawn made pretty banners for ATW this week, which would be on my profile by the next update. They're all awesome.

And, so are you guys, who continue to read and share your thoughts with me. I truly appreciate them and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you.

Till next chapter!