A/N: Mah bad, guys. Two of you called me on this. I changed the whole section with Rosalie/Lauren so many times that I got confused. I said Greece. I meant Italy, where I know the David is.

Darlings, don't you know? Everyone has been to Italy. Everyone.

To answer your question, Italy not Greece, Rosalie was just playing Lauren's game - cat scratching with innocent expressions. Neither one of them is doing any lasting damage.

Edward was quite certain that his wife had absolutely no idea he was watching her. Actually, he was quite sure that Bella was oblivious to just about everything and anyone. From the look on her face, the house had faded away entirely, and she was transported to the world of whatever book she had in her hand.

The image had struck him.

Often, in his boyhood, he'd come across his father in the exact same pose Bella was in now, sitting upon the office's window seat, his feet propped up, a book in his lap, and faraway expression on his face.

Carlisle would have loved Bella.

Watching the way his wife reacted with her whole face - her eyes widening, her lips pursing, her cheek twitching with a smile - as she read, Edward instantly wished he'd paid more attention to the books in his father's study. He laughed at himself inwardly, realizing that more than one gentleman he knew would be aghast at the idea of a woman who read, let alone who knew more than he did about... well... anything.

With a private grin, he strode into the room, making his presence known. "Well, well, Mrs. Cullen. What are you doing with my father's books?"

Bella started, obviously being brought out of her own little world and into the present. She tucked the book up against her chest protectively. "I'm sorry. Should I not be in here?"

Edward chuckled, perching on the edge of the window seat. "You may be in here whenever you wish. This is your house. I was only teasing you."

Tilting her head, Bella's lips quirked up. "Would your father mind me playing with his books?"

"Not at all," he assured. "Quite the contrary, reading was a particular passion of his. Too long these books have gone on gathering dust. He would love that you're taking advantage of them."

Grinning wickedly at her, he leaned over, plucking the book from her hand. "However, it is my duty as your husband to be sure that what you're reading is proper."

She rolled her eyes but smiled at him patiently.

Clearing his throat, he read randomly from the page.

"'I am alone and miserable; man will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species and have the same defects. This being you must create.'" Furrowing his brow, he looked at the title of the book. "Frankenstein: The Modern Prometheus," he read. "Mr. Frankenstein doesn't think much of himself, does he?"

She took the book back from him, tutting lightly. "Frankenstein is the doctor. What is speaking is his hideous creation."

"Ah, I see," he murmured, becoming more interested in touching the pads of his fingers along her cheeks and lips. "That is a novel approach, I suppose. If you cannot find a companion, just make one." He kissed her chastely. "I'm glad I didn't have to go through such lengths."

She drew in a shaky breath, her cheeks tinged pink from his touch. "No, not such great lengths. It only took a near deadly wound for you to find me."

He hummed easily, stroking her cheek. "I'd rather suffer that wound a thousand times over than not have been there," he said fervently. It was unthinkable - what would have happened.

How close he came to never remembering she existed at all.

Kissing her soundly, his hand against her cheek, Edward didn't hear the tell tale swish of skirts approaching. "Ma'am, I- Oh! I'm so sorry!"

Edward and Bella parted quickly, finding a young maid in the doorway, bowing her head.

"I'll er... I..." the young lady stumbled.

"It's fine, Mary," Bella assured, clearing her throat and smoothing her skirts. "What is it that you need?"

"Well, Mrs. Cullen. I am sorry to bother, but Cook wishes to make stew tonight and needs to send someone to the butcher for mutton," the young girl said, still looking down and blushing furiously.

"I'll get the money out of the cashbox," Bella said, moving to rise.

"No. Stay," Edward entreated. "I've business about the marketplace. Send Seth to ready the buggy," he said to the maid.

"Yes, Sir."

Bella chuckled, the sound somewhat wry, as Mary hurried away. "Whenever someone calls me Mrs. Cullen and looks to me to make a decision for the household, I still have the urge to send them to your mother."

Some weeks previous, Esme had begun turning servants away with a succinct, "You may direct your questions to Mrs. Cullen," when they needed something.

When Bella had protested, Esme could not be dissuaded. "You are the lady of this house, dear," she'd said, patting Bella's hand.

And that was that. Perhaps Bella was the lady of the house, but no one argued with Esme Cullen.

~0~

After Edward handed the appropriate amount to Seth to go into the butcher, Edward strolled leisurely down the street to the Ggrocer.

"Mr. Cullen!" The grocer called, waiving his hand in greeting.

Edward grinned. "Good day, Mr. Jenks," he said, nodding. "Might you have a few minutes to discuss a matter of business?"

The older man looked wary. Since that day he'd lead little Seth into the market, Jason Jenks wasn't all that fond of the youngest Cullen brother. But the Cullens meant big money, and so Jenks wouldn't speak out. "As you say, sir. Max!" he called to the boy - perhaps sixteen or so - that had been stacking a new display "Mind the store."

Jenks gestured to the the back room where he offered Edward something to drink.

Politely declining, Edward took a breath, retaining an outward semblance of calm though he was quite nervous about what he was about to do.

"Let's cut to the quick, shall we?" Edward asked, waiting for Jenks' gesture before he continued. "I have a business proposal for you, sir."

"Do go on, Mr Cullen."

"Well, I find it is time I settle down and invest my money in worthwhile business ventures," he began. "Along that line, it occurs to me, in this changing world of ours, there are some things I'd like to see remain. What would you say, sir, if I said I had a mind to buy your fine establishment?"

Edward paused, smiling amiably as he let his offer settle in.

There was a benefit to his mother and sister being who they were. Esme and Alice knew absolutely everything about everyone. Because of that, they knew that the Jenks family had fallen into hard times when Mr. Jenks was away at the war. The store was struggling. It would likely soon fail.

"That's a very interesting idea," Jenks said, nodding and stroking his chin. "I can't picture you as a grocer, sir."

Edward chuckled. "Oh, you misunderstand me, Mr. Jenks. My aim is to be merely an owner. I would leave the management of the store up to you, with a handsome salary, of course."

The older man didn't look entirely pleased, but he didn't look like he was about to refuse outright. "Your offer is generous and very tempting. I have some concerns."

"I would imagine," Edward nodded, sweeping his hand out to indicate that Jenks should continue.

They discussed Jenks's concerns for the better part of an hour. Edward could tell that he wasn't pleased at the idea of handing over his business, but he was in dire straights. The offer Edward made was more than generous, and he knew it. Mainly, the man wanted to preserve his dignity, which Edward understood. He didn't want the name of the store to change, for instance, and wanted to be able to employ his boy.

Edward was amenable. He had his own aims which he didn't bring to light until he was getting up to leave.

"Oh, there is one more thing, Mr. Jenks."

The other gentleman waited, looking like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Always obliging, Edward put on a serene expression as he spoke. "I would like to make it clear up front, should you enter into this partnership, I shall expect certain concessions to be made to the way you run the business."

"Of course, Mr. Cullen. That is to be expected," Jenks said tightly. "But do you have something in particular in mind?"

"I do," Edward said evenly. "This store will be open to all those who have money to buy. Do you understand what I'm saying, sir?"

Jenks rather looked like he was going to be ill. "Do you mean to say you wish to allow redskins in my store?"

Edward tilted his head. "The Indians, darkies... anyone who has mind to pay for services, I intend to serve."

The other man swallowed hard, his expression turning to one of impatience. "Mr. Cullen, you are a gentleman of fine standing, at much higher office than I could ever hope to achieve. A gentleman such as yourself should not trouble himself with the running of a business. Leave such details to me. I and my family have been in this business longer than you've been on the good earth, sir. I know what people want."

"I realize I don't have experience running a business, Mr. Jenks." Edward kept his tone light, his expression steady. "However, in my experience, people of all kinds need groceries. One man's money is as good as another's to me."

Clearing his throat, Edward put his hat on. "In any event, those are my terms. Mull it over, if you will, and join my wife and me for dinner on Thursday night. If you are amenable to the decision, bring your ledgers, and we'll talk business after dinner. If not, well... what can I say? I do understand, and we will part as friends."

~0~

Emmett laughed as Edward entered. "You look like the cat that ate the canary, brother," he noted.

Smiling, quite pleased with himself, Edward sat across the table. "I may have bought a store today." He stroked his chin, tugging at the whiskers that had begun to grow there. "My very first investment."

"So Jenks was agreeable to your condition?" Emmett asked, raising a surprised eyebrow.

"Oh, of course not." Edward rolled his eyes. "But the offer I made is more than enough to quell his, er... delicate sensibilities." He shrugged. "I left the decision up to him. We shall know by Thursday. If he isn't agreeable... well... Perhaps I shall buy the lot across the street and build a store of my own."

"How devious," Emmett said with a laugh, his eyes returning to the paperwork in front of him.

Edward drummed his fingers lightly on the table, watching his brother work for a moment before he spoke. "You're liking work at your firm, then?" he inquired.

Emmett bobbed his head back and forth in a yes and no type of gesture.

"It is what it is," he said easily. "I believe the partners' first clients must have been Adam and Eve." He shook his head, looking slightly impatient. "The work is fine. Mostly they have me on some of the lighter cases - which means I get a lot of neighbors squabbling over land rights, but everyone has to start somewhere, I suppose."

Before Edward could respond, Emmett spoke again. "Of late, I've struck up a friendship with one of the clerks. He's about your age and, I think you may be as surprised as I am, he's an Indian."

Edward's eyebrows shot skyward. "Really?"

"Yes. I was surprised too. The partners speak the same game as most gentlemen," Emmett said the word derisively, "but it seems they can be sensible in individual circumstances. Jacob Black, it seems, stopped a pair of thieves who were in the midst of beating Mr. Green for his gold pocket watch."

"Is that what it takes?" Edward said wryly. "If a man can save your life, then the color of his skin begins not to matter so much, eh?"

"So it seems," Emmett nodded. "In any event. I find discussion with Mr. Black a great deal more tolerable than with Mr. Green or Mr. Banner," he mused, naming the partners of the firm where he'd been hired.

"Hmm," Edward hummed. "Well, bring him around for dinner soon, if it pleases you."

Emmett nodded his agreement.

"I know I've made this offer before," Edward began, looking at the paperwork Emmett had spread out, "but you needn't work at the dining room table. We can share father's office, or perhaps we should have one of the spare rooms refitted-"

Emmett held a hand up to stop Edward's diatribe. "Your office," he reminded. "And with the investments you have planned, you're going to need it."

"Actually, Edward, I've been meaning to discuss with you."

"Yes?"

"Well, little brother, there's only so much time I can feed off your good graces."

"Emmett," Edward began, exasperated.

Laughing, Emmett held up his hand again. "Regardless. My family deserves a space of their own. I've purchased a nice plot not so very far from here. Construction will begin straight away, but it will still be some months before we're out your way."

"You're not in our way," Edward insisted.

Emmett waggled his eyebrows. "Maybe not now, but soon enough, Edward, you're going to need your space. As it is, you have Mother, Alice, and Peter to contend with. Where do you expect to put your own children? I've seen the way you look at your wife. I'm surprised she isn't yet in the family way, or is it just that she's not showing?"

For some reason, Edward blushed at his brother's words, which made Emmett laugh raucously. He sat back in his chair, looking, as Emmett was prone to, quite happy.

"It took almost all of what I had saved and what was left of my inheritance, but it's a fine house I'm building. There's plenty of room for Charlotte and what little ones we might yet be blessed with. And yes, a study all my own," Emmett winked at Edward.

For a long moment, Edward was silent. "Well," he said finally. "Congratulations. You'll take me to see the property soon?"

"Certainly. Tomorrow before dinner, if you'd like."

"Have you told Mother yet?"

Emmett paused, his lips quirking downward. "Not yet," he admitted.

"Well, dinner might be interesting tonight," Edward muttered. "Hand her the blueprints. That will distract her. Mother has a good eye for such things - how rooms should be laid out and what kind of windows would look best in what light."

"That's a good idea," Emmett said, nodding. He shook his head. "In any event. Speaking of construction, have you had a chance to look into the land you need for the tenement buildings we discussed?"

"I have a few ideas. This weekend, we should take a ride. View the land for ourselves..."

The brothers sat, their heads bent together, planning and theorizing until the cook shooed them away, needing to get dinner on the table.

~0~

Some days later, Edward tiptoed into his bedroom, peering over the large bed to see if his wife was awake. To his immense relief, she seemed to be asleep. He was glad to find her resting.

He crept into the room carrying the ginger tea and crackers his mother had sent him up with. Careful not to let the glass clink, he set the saucer on the nightstand and sat carefully on the edge of the bed.

Her skin had a sickly green pallor to it still, he noted. She'd been horrendously sick to her stomach all of the last night and on through morning. It was afternoon now, and the sickness finally seemed to have passed long enough to let her rest.

He shifted on the bed and watched as the skin between her eyes knitted together in consternation and she groaned. "You will make me seasick if you keep moving," she grumbled, opening her eyes slowly.

"I'm sorry, love," he murmured, stroking his fingers down her clammy cheek. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't really asleep," she said with a sigh. "I was just trying to be still."

He said nothing, but continued to stroke her cheek and trail his finger along her hairline. "Bella?" he asked softly. "Are you sure you won't let me call the doctor?"

Though she had been drowsing, Bella's eyes snapped open. "There's no need to bother the doctor."

"What if you're-"

"I'm not," she said firmly. "It was the clam chowder from the restaurant, that's all." She attempted to smile at him. "Perhaps my belly is still unaccustomed to such fine things like meals at restaurants."

When he didn't respond, she lifted her hand, the movement somewhat feeble, and rested it on his arm as she studied him. "Does that disappoint you?" she asked quietly.

He was quick to put on a smile, looking down on her. "Of course not." Carefully, he laid down beside her, trying his best not to jostle her. She grimaced slightly but seemed more content when she was curled against his side. "We've only been married these few months," he murmured, kissing the side of her head. "We have all the time in the world for all that."

"Mmmm," she hummed, mostly asleep. "I see you with Peter and Charlotte," she mumbled, her words slurred by approaching sleepy. "I know you want a child of your own."

"Yes, I want to hold a child of ours in my arms," he admitted. "We would make beautiful babies, Bella."

She hummed an affirmative response, her eyelashes fluttering closed. "Not today." The words were barely audible.

Chuckling, he kissed her forehead. "No," he agreed. "It can wait."

A/N: Many thanks to twitina for her help with this beta. Always thanks to barburella.

And thanks to all of you. MWAH.