A/N - see, I am being a good little updater...=) I still feel like tearing this story up, but...I am REALLY looking forward to the next and final installment, so I'll push through...I think I mentioned lemons, but they didn't fit themselves into this chap - next one I think =) forgive me if things aren't in proper order I am trying to snatch time away from my family duties to get back into the swing of things - I'm hoping that after this is finished my next story will be more of the style of 'A Faire To Remember'...now that I've blah blahed enough for one day, we're preparing for the climax - hopefully you enjoy =) OH! Before I forget - someone mentioned the last chap was too heavy...and it was =) I prefer not to lean that way, and truly with children of my own the idea sickens me. But these things do happen, and I wanted a truly shocking bad guy - I don't intend on there being any more overtly adult scenes like that - although I must stress Tanya was not touched. I couldn't go so far as to even want to imagine that - she died in order to stop it from happening.

Self-consciously, Edward smoothed his hair down again; checking in the review mirror to see if it was staying where it should. Unfortunately, as ever, it didn't, bouncing skywards again the moment he drew his fingers away. He huffed in frustration. It was so important to him that everything be perfect tonight, from the tiniest hair on his head, to the way the food would be displayed on Bella's plate when they went out to dinner. He swore it wasn't because he had every intention of finally fulfilling his utmost fantasy and seducing her, but only because he wanted her to think well of him. He certainly considered himself to be a decent man, maybe not the perfect gentleman, but not a complete jerk. He wanted tonight to be special, somewhat like what he had envisioned for their senior prom – if he had ever dared in high school to work up the courage to even speak to Bella, let alone ask for that much…besides the fact she'd not even been at the prom. That night had been considerably less thrilling than people were led to believe it would be in movies. In fact it had been much like when he'd been far younger – some people pairing off, the majority idling around the room alone. A few of the guys deciding to spike the drinks of course, and all of the males imagining which girl they were going to talk into coming to the local motel with them afterwards…the only people he knew personally that had gotten lucky that night were Jasper and Alice, but then those two were romantic in the way of a soppy paperback, so that was no surprise. He wouldn't have been shocked if they'd told him they'd planned that night since the moment they had met, right down to how Alice would style her hair. He knew for sure rose petals had been involved.

Rose petals! Cursing under his breath he slumped back against his seat. He knew he had forgotten something. Well, it was too late now; he was here, in front of Bella's house, agonizing uselessly as everything was done and time was up. Taking a deep breath he opened the car door, his heart fluttering in his throat. Nervous. He couldn't believe he was this nervous. Shouldn't it be natural, the most natural thing in the world, to be arriving at the door of the woman you were sure you wanted to marry, to take her out, to enjoy her company? Mentally he laughed at himself. Yes, if that's as far as he hoped it would go, sure he could be perfectly relaxed. It was the fact that he had ensured his parents were on a lovely night out of their own, and not due back until the end of the weekend, and his hope that Bella's attitude of the other day had not changed that was making him nervous. The way she had kissed him back, pressed herself to him and seemed to want to throw him to the ground and have her way with him – surely he had not underestimated her feelings or intentions? Right now he was desperately hoping he had read her right, because if he hadn't, well, he feared she might not forgive such an expectation.

He looked up to see the light in her bedroom window – flickering as a person moved behind the curtains. He considered for a moment climbing the huge tree whose branches reached out to caress the window panes on that side of the house, then thought again. If he was worried about her reaction to what he had planned, then sneaking up on her when she may be half naked – although in itself a lovely mental image – would be an unmitigated disaster. Definitely the front door.

Each step up was full of tension and apprehension, self doubt and high hopes. By the time he reached his hand out to tap gently on the door itself, he wondered his heart might just burst out of his chest when Bella did answer his knock.

To his intense relief it didn't, and he was somehow perfectly able to keep up his usual calm façade. "Bella," he greeted her. "You look stunning." To his eyes she certainly did. A short, floaty, dress in a deep rich blue that made her skin seem like warm cream, and which enhanced the rose color in her cheeks.

"Thanks," she mumbled, pulling the door shut behind her. "It was all I could find that seemed to fit the criteria."

He grinned as he took her arm, steadying her progress down her own front steps which as ever seemed to have some personal grudge against her, or perhaps it was simply the fact that someone so inept at even walking in a straight line really shouldn't be wearing such eye catching stilettos. Edward found it completely necessary to help Bella watch her footing, and this in turn had nothing whatsoever to do with the way the ribboned shoes, the same blue as the dress, made her legs seem even longer and sexier than ever. Or at least, that's what his defense was going to be, if she asked.

"Humph." Bella grumbled as she found yet another sneaky speck of dirt that was determined to trip her up. "Whatever you have planned had better be well worth the trouble." She paused so she could look up into Edwards face. "I can't stand heels."

His grin widened. He had no doubt about the last; even in flat shoes she was a walking disaster.

"Never fear, Edward is here," he joked.

"Hah! That is the most ridiculous thing I've heard since kindergarten!"

"Oh, no, I have worse…" Edward retorted.

Bella rolled her eyes, and slid her arm out of his. "Unlock this door Edward. Something tells me it's not very attractive to be using a car for balance."

Although he avidly disagreed with this assessment – anything she did could be classed as attractive – but he quickly slid around to the driver's side and popped the lock, then strode back before Bella had dared loosen her death grip on the car roof.

"Allow me, my lady." For the briefest moment a ghost of sadness passed across Bella's features, but it was gone so quickly he wondered if it was possible that it had been a trick of the light.

"Thanks." This time he was sure there was a definite edge to the way she spoke, and he frowned down at the door as he closed it for her.

"My pleasure," he responded.

"Alice, there is nothing else. I promise you. And there will never be anything else." Jasper said earnestly.

Alice nodded amiably, even though she could see the lie in her lover's eyes. He had said little, really, swearing emphatically that the only reason he had been so distant of late was that he had been involved in some petty problem, something to do with staff who weren't working within the letter of the law, nothing he himself could be in serious trouble for, and certainly nothing that would incur more than maybe firing a person or two, and at worst a legal equivalent of a slap on the wrist. "However," he had pointed out, "anything that may get us into trouble is a concern. I know you would hate for my business to fail as much as I would."

Alice had sighed internally at Jaspers determination to make her believe that what she knew, with all her instincts and common sense combined, was completely false. Looking at the man she had loved for what seemed like most of her life, she wondered again whether she could still truly say that of him; love. As the lies fell so easily from his tongue, his face seeming so open and earnest, she questioned everything they were based on, everything she believed of him. Once upon a time she had trusted him implicitly, would have laughed in the face of anyone who told her he was anything other than fair, and righteous, and simply perfect but now her belief was tainted, and he didn't even trust in her enough to confide his truest fears. For a brief moment she worried that it was as simple as infidelity, but even as the thought occurred her mind turned it away. In a sense she wished it were that simple, but the cloud that hung around her fiance was much darker than that of a man tempted by another woman, or even one who had simply fallen out of love. That was one thing she didn't doubt; his love for her. Even with whatever else he refused to admit to, it brushed against her skin with an intensity that for once she feared instead of basking in.

Jasper smiled as he leaned back in the comfortable armchair that was the favorite of Alice's father, seemingly secure in the thought that she believed him. She smiled in return, but although hers was the type that didn't quite reach the eyes, he didn't notice.

"You know," he said, changing the subject with such practiced ease, she wondered why she hadn't picked up on the signs much earlier. "I found something I thought you might like." He slipped a pamphlet out of his pocket and handed the slightly crumpled paper to Alice.

She opened it curiously. 'Civil War Re-enactment!' It screamed at her, and she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. She looked up from what she was reading to grin at Jasper impishly.

"Is this an offer, sir?" She jested.

He laughed, the relief clear in the smooth, deep sound. "Why, Ma'am, I believe it is."

And ignoring all the doubts that never paused, even as her excitement flared over her favorite form of entertainment and absolutely the quickest way to her heart, she ducked her head and batted her lashes. "Why, sir," she murmured. "I believe you might just turn my head."
Jasper leaned forward eagerly. "I scarcely dared to hope." He rose from the chair and offered her his hand. "May I turn your head to other things…?"

Alice laughed, a lovely tinkling sound that always seemed appropriate to her pixie-like features. "You may…" she said as she rested her small hand in his larger one. 'Just for now,' she told herself, 'just for now we can be as we were…'

He knew she was upstairs. Not only because Bella had told him, attempting to throw it into their conversation as though commenting on nothing more interesting than the weather, but because some odd part of him felt her there, felt her presence. With enough shocks laid on his shoulders for one night he put it down to the feel of her life force and thought nothing more of it. There were plenty of other things to think about, that was for certain.

Bella had emphatically confirmed Luned's story, brushing aside his doubts with comments like 'seriously, Jake, do you really think that anyone from ANY background nowadays would consider a mall fountain a good place to bathe?' and 'don't you think she is a little bit…open to have been brought up in an Amish community?'. He'd spluttered and tried to think of some way to disagree with her but the more he listened, the less he seemed to know. He couldn't deny the logic of some of the things she said, yet somehow he found himself going over the same tired argument, even as it sounded less and less plausible – 'time travel is just nonsense!'

Bella had slowly broken down his resolve, speaking to him of her own experiences in Luned's time, of the Edward there, and James, Alice and Rosalie's counterparts, even his own! Carefully she had explained Luned's attachment to that other Jacob and even more carefully she had detailed Luned's life before. She had even handed him a sheaf of printed papers that spoke of a place called Cullen Castle, though he had barely bothered to give these a passing glance. Finally, with an exasperated sigh she had growled at him 'geez, Jake, if you need proof, why don't you take that brown dress she always pulls out to a museum and ask them to date it?'

He couldn't think of anything say to that.

Although before he had been certain that Luned was, well, loony, there was no doubt in his mind that Bella was not. He had known her for far too long to believe that she would continue a farce like this, and when she began a sentence with 'Jacob, believe me', he had always know that, like it or not, she was going to hit him with cold hard facts.

And he certainly didn't like these ones.

If both Luned and Bella would be believed, Luned was a maid from another time. The image never failed to bring a smile to his face, as to his mind there was no-one he could think of who was less likely to be submissive. At least in practical terms. She also hadn't struck him as particularly clean. Tidy he would allow, but weren't maids almost obsessive when it came to cleaning? Plus he had yet to see her cook anything, although, if she truly wasn't of this time…

He couldn't believe he was even considering accepting this idea. Yet, if he allowed his thoughts to go where they may, he had to admit sometimes it made sense, even to him. Around and around this internal argument went. Belief, doubt, true, false. Real, imagined. Logically he should speak to the woman herself. He had debated this thought as well; so frightened of the possibility that what couldn't be true actually was to give free rein to his curiosity.

After far too much time spent moping and contemplating in Bella's lounge, he got up and strode purposefully to the stairs. He would ask – otherwise what kind of pathetic coward was he? Not only a coward but a disgusting excuse for a human being; to enjoy the benefits of her body without even attempting to fathom what she was trying to tell him? He refused to be that guy.

He took the stairs slowly, using the time to try and clear his mind of as many preconceptions as he was able, trying instead to concentrate on the feel of the banister, smooth and solid under his hand, the creak of the old wood under his feet. Instead of imagining where she came from, he listened to the rain beginning again, the droplets tapping lightly on the living room window, slowly fading as he moved further away. By the time he found himself standing before the door with the childish letters over it that read 'Isabella', he felt as ready as he was ever going to be.

He knocked softly, the taps coming much slower than his breaths, than the frantic beat of his heart. He waited, straining to hear her feet moving towards him, but the room on the other side of the door remained silent. Trying to slow his breathing he knocked again, slightly harder, and pushed the creeping doubts out of his mind again. "Luned?"

Finally, a response. He heard a sharp intake of air, then the slow pad of feet. The sound stopped on the other side of the wood.

"Jacob?"

He closed his eyes and truly listened, even to just his softly spoken name. He couldn't deny the gentle lilt of her voice, the soft accent that rounded it out, made the word 'Jacob' sound like something sensual rather than something to be called out across the street.

"Luned," he mumbled, leaning forward. "Can I come in?"

He could practically hear the hesitation; almost saw her hand pressing lightly against the door.

"Why?" she returned, and all her hurt, and doubt and anger burst forward with the question.

He thought hard, trying different reasons out in his mind, searching for the one that was so perfect she would have no qualms about allowing him in, trusting that he would listen this time…

"Please." It was the only thing that seemed to make sense.

Deafening silence answered him.

"Luned…" he tried again. "Forgive me. Please. I should have at least given you a chance."

The door flew open and slammed against the wall. He was so surprised by the violence of her reaction he stood there in shock as she burst through the open doorway. "A chance?" Clearly he had chosen the wrong words. "A chance?" She fumed. "I give you all I have, offered myself to you truthfully – and you throw it back at me like rotten meat, and then say you should have given me a chance?"

Her small fists beat at him. "You! I thought you would be like my Jacob! He was everything a man should be – everything! I have seen your modern stories of knights," she sneered the word, "'fairness and chivalry were their creed' – not likely! Disgusting, lust-filled pigs, lower than the rats I snuck into their meals!"
Jacob's mouth dropped at this confession, and he made a note never to let her cook for him.

"The only thing your modern times have right about them was their love of warfare! They do not speak of rapes, murder and pillage though, or the whores that they would take with them, for fear of having to go more than a few hours without sheathing one sword or another, they do not make note of how many of these poor women were unwilling! Not once did I see a marriage that was anything other than the lecherous desires of a stinking old man to a girl he fancied that was too highborn to be had by force – at least without banns, or the sale of a wealthy woman to a less wealthy husband in order to secure his ties to the throne! And once she was captured she was treated as little more than a glorified slave – with almost as much freedom as I had myself!"

She glared up at him, tears trembling on her lower lashes, shining and wet and her small hands twisted into his shirt.

"The only man I ever met that came close to what your time thinks of as a knight was my Jacob." She spoke softly now. "He treated my person and my body with care and he was gentle. He never took what I did not offer. When he spoke of love it was not to force my will, but to share of himself. He was a servant, not a spurred knight, yet he was kinder than any noble. And when he gave…" her voice caught on a choke. "I took. I acted as those I despised did and used him for my own purposes…"

Gently Jacob rested his hands on Luned's back.

"He died, for my revenge. I made him suffer for me..." she buried her face against his chest, and let her tears flow freely. "I thought you were my chance, that I had been forgiven…"

Jacob brought one hand up to stroke her hair softly, murmuring nothing of consequence to trying and ease her pain. She stayed still and quiet there for a moment before pushing him away.

"But then you come and remind me of what I have done, and that you are NOT my Jacob, and never will be…"

He dropped his hands to his sides and watched as she drew her arm across her eyes, now red from crying.

"No, I'm not him."

She nodded slowly, misery clear in the roundness of her shoulders.

"I'm not completely good, and I don't pretend to be. I'm critical, argumentative and a pain in the butt…but I want to try this." He was surprising her now, but not only her, he was surprising himself as well.

"I believe you." He said softly.

She leant back and her huge, dark eyes gazed up at him, brimming with tears and disbelief. "Why now?" she asked bluntly.

Jacob looked down at her, wondering the same thing himself. Though truthfully, it wasn't just now. In some way he had believed her right away, as ridiculous as it had sounded. Bella had confirmed it not only with her words but with her actions as well – even though it had been seemingly forever since they had been in contact he had sensed some major changes that nothing he'd ever been told of could account for. Some fundamental part of her had shifted, and once she told him of that other Edward, and how deeply she had fallen for him, how completely broken she had felt after losing him – only that could explain it. He knew that there had been no one of value over the years, no one whose effect could have been so devastating upon her, so if he was to believe that she had loved and lost in another time, then there was no doubt that what Luned said was true.

"I think…" he started, then fell silent again, considering how he could explain best. "I think I always believed you – but I didn't want to."

Her forehead creased into a confused frown. "I do not understand. Why does it matter if you wanted to? Isn't belief just so?"

He smiled at her perplexed expression. "For some, my Luned, believing is not quite so simple."

As he spoke her face brightened. "My Luned," she murmured. "I like that."

Jacob pulled her body tighter against his. "I do too." He agreed.