Disclaima: Ia Don'ta Owna thea Twilighta Booksa. Okaya?
We enter the card room. It is dark, lit only by a ceiling lamp hanging above a circular table. Off to the side there is a billiards table. The cues for the game hang on racks on the wall behind it.
He leads me by the gloved hand over to the round table. The flame in the lamp hisses and pops, startling me. He chuckles at my display and gives me a strange, crooked smile that I find makes my stomach flutter. This is a feeling I have not yet had in my lifetime.
Is this what love really feels like? Those halfpenny papers Mabelina and I read, they described love as the humming of a hundred violins, and explosion of color beneath the eyelids of a person long lost to slumber. But this is subtle, like a creeping snake, and I do not know what I feel for sure.
"Please," He says, breaking the silence, "Have a seat." I select a chair at the round table and he pushes me in. He takes a seat across from mine own.
"Do you play bridge?" He asks me.
Thankfully, it is one of the few card games I can stumble my way through, so I affirm his inquiry.
"Ah, excellent." Count Cullen says, retrieving a deck of cards from his waistcoat pocket. I notice that his jacket is lined with thick gold fabric. So he is wealthy. The chain of the watch that remains in his pocket also is gold. Very wealthy indeed, it appears.
The Count deals the cards, never once looking down, holding my gaze until I must break away. His eyes are the strangest of colors, almost black.
We play a few rounds of bridge, talking in an idle manner of Scotland, and other things of a dull nature. He annihilates my futile efforts with these infernal cards in every round.
Count Edward Cullen and I are lost in a world of our own until the clock chimes out midnight.
"Oh, dear, the time has escaped us I believe." I declare. He helps me up from my chair and we walk back to the main ballroom.
"Yes, it appears so." He replies. "Perhaps I should… Help you to your carriage." He smiles at me. He really has the most charming demeanor about him, so much so that it is hard to say not to him. The way he acts is almost… dazzling. There, that is a proper word to describe him. Dazzling.
"Why, yes, your assistance would be much obliged." I murmur to this, trying to contain my inner joy. Hello world, the perfect, rich, wholesome, charitable and handsome Count Edward Cullen is walking me to my carriage!
Fine, so I might not be able to announce my jubilation to all those around me, but I do manage to catch Mabelina Weston's eye as we exit the ballroom and make our way to the driveway, the Count and I arm in arm. She widens her eyes and raises her eyebrows. She puts a single slender gloved hand to her mouth and gives me a little grin.
So she is shocked by my accomplishment. I contain my giggles. I look to Count Edward, who has his eyes fixed on the road. He gives me a little smile, meeting my eyes, and then turns back to the cobblestone path.
I turn back to Miss Weston, now that I am sure I have no audience but her, and place my hand over my heart, shape my mouth in a little O. I can almost hear her tittering laugh as she observes my horrid acting. I was going for an offended look, but I probably looked as if I had ingested a bit too much champagne at dinner.
"Ah, my carriage is that Luxingshire, the on up ahead," I say to Count Edward pointing to it.
"I see. That lovely black one?" He makes me blush and I look away from him. I study the brick to my left. We have fallen behind the others; we are last in the procession to the carriages. I note the narrow alley in the wall up ahead. Just past that is my carriage.
"Oh, I don't know about lovely… It cert-." I am cut off.
His hand is over my mouth, pressing so hard I can scarcely find air to breathe between his fingers. "Don't scream." Count Cullen whispers in my ear. He has pulled me into the alleyway. His voice, now rough with adrenaline is still beautiful evermore. "I promise this will be quick."
Oh, God. I have heard tales of women alone at night with strange men, women who are not careful, so, so unlike me. Virtues stolen in dark passageways, lives damaged beyond repair. Those were different stories; I never thought something would happen to me like this.
But Count Cullen, his intents don't feel like that. His hands remain on my waist and over my mouth only.
However, the next thing he says chills me to the bone, removing every last shred of hope. "I hope you die."