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EPOV
Collectively, we take in a nervous breath as the double oak doors open with a flourish. Mr. Jenks enters and steps to the side, ready to announce our guests.
"Mr. Cullen, it's my pleasure to present Mr. Charles Swan."
A tall, slender man steps in and removes his hat, revealing dark hair on his head that matches the thick hair above his mouth. Mr. Cullen walks forward and grasps Mr. Swan's hand in both of his, shaking it in a warm greeting.
"Charles! It's been too long! Welcome and, please, make yourself at home!"
Mr. Swan gives a small smile before thanking Mr. Cullen for his hospitality. He seems leery, though, and I wonder if he's completely sold on the idea of his daughter marrying the man before him.
"Miss Jessica Swan, Mr. Swan's youngest daughter, is here, as well, Mr. Cullen," Mr. Jenks announces, causing everyone to look up at the entrance again.
In walks a petite young lady, smiling brightly as she allows Mr. Cullen to briefly kiss the top of her hand.
"Ah, Miss Jessica. So glad you could join your family during these exciting times. I know you must be busy with your own wedding plans, as well," Mr. Cullen says.
Jessica, who looks a little young to be getting married, smiles politely. "I wouldn't miss Isabella's wedding for all the tea in China, Mr. Cullen! Besides, my wedding is still two months away; I do hope you and my sister will attend."
"Of course, dear." Mr. Cullen is a charming man and Miss Jessica seems to be falling under his spell quickly. I'm curious to ascertain if her sister has fallen as easily.
Mr. Jenks clears his throat and the moment we've been waiting for has arrived. Everyone straightens their posture and puts on their most welcoming smiles in anticipation of the elder Swan daughter's appearance.
"Miss Isabella Swan!" Mr. Jenks proclaims.
No other words are needed; we all know who she is and why she's here. What I'm not prepared for is her incredible beauty and the way it causes my breath to hitch. I try to discreetly clear my throat and am relieved that no one seems to be paying any attention to me. Looking back at Miss Isabella, though, I catch her eyes on me before she looks down, blushing.
"My sweet Isabella! I'm so happy that you are finally here!" Mr. Cullen makes a great production of taking Miss Isabella's hand and bringing it to his mouth, lingering much longer than necessary. "Let me introduce you to my staff. You've already met Mr. Jenks, so now I'd like you to meet Ms. Esme. Without her, this house would be in shambles and we'd all be starved! If you need anything—anything at all—just tell Ms. Esme and she'll gladly take care of you."
I can't help but smile fondly at the way Ms. Esme blushes and curtsies at the same time. She deserves every compliment Mr. Cullen has given her and even more that he hasn't.
When Mr. Cullen introduces Miss Isabella to me, I don't hear a word he says. He could be saying I'm really a dame and my girdle is tucked into my pants for all I know. All I can focus on right now are her deeply flushed cheeks and her full lips that are just begging for a kiss. Unfortunately, my kiss isn't the one she wants, so I force myself to give her a polite nod of my head and keep my eyes off her face.
Now her derriere . . . that's an entirely different story.
Once all the introductions have been made, Mr. Cullen encourages the Swan family to follow Ms. Esme to their individual rooms so they can rest and freshen up before dinner.
After making sure Mr. Cullen's parlor has a fully-stocked liquor cabinet and the humidors are filled with his finest cigars, I make my way to the kitchen to see if Ms. Esme needs my help. Upon her request, I open a few bottles of wine to breathe and supervise the preparation of the dining room. Knowing I have thirty minutes until dinner, I allow myself to relax in my room before washing up.
My bedroom is undeniably tiny, but I don't need much. It's private and clean and serves its purpose. Some of the other servants share rooms and I'm thankful I'm not one of them. I get along well with everyone, but I like my privacy and quiet time when I can get it.
As I lay on my bed, my thoughts drift to Miss Isabella. Her hair is the color of roasted chestnuts and is the perfect contrast to her alabaster skin. However, it was her eyes that truly captivated me earlier. They're deep brown in color and framed by thick lashes, making her look both innocent and worldly at the same time.
I wonder if she knows Mr. Cullen's plans to use her to take over her father's company. When I overheard him talking to Mr. Volturi, he mentioned that Isabella was anxious to get out of her father's house. I wonder what he meant by that. Does she not like her home life? Surely, growing up in a wealthy family like hers can't be all that bad. Is she upset that her younger sister became engaged before she did? I think it's ridiculous that anyone would consider Isabella to be an old maid. She's an exquisite young lady and any man would be proud to have her as his wife.
I don't know what kind of person Isabella is, but the idea that she'd willingly allow Mr. Cullen to weasel her father's company away from him just doesn't sit well with me. It's none of my business but, for some reason, I want to know her motives.
Who am I kidding? I want to know more about her, period.
During a perfectly prepared dinner of oysters on the half shell, roasted veal with mashed potatoes, and other various vegetables, the Swan daughters regale Mr. Cullen and Mr. Volturi with many tales from their week-long train ride from Seattle to New York. From snoring old men to children stealing candy off the sweets cart after changing trains in Chicago, it sounds as if they'd seen it all. I can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at their easy and carefree nature. It's obvious to me that these young ladies are down-to-earth and not the typical ladies of society. Maybe Isabella will bring some fun and excitement to Cullen Manor after all.
As Mr. Cullen's valet, it is my job to stand to the right and behind Mr. Cullen throughout the meal, always ready to get him what he wants when he wants it. The kitchen staff refills drinks and serves the food; but if Mr. Cullen wants something from the bar or needs something from the house—outside the kitchen—I'm the one who fetches it for him. Most of the time he doesn't need me, so I simply stand in my position and wait to be dismissed after the meal. This, of course, allows me the opportunity to watch and listen to those sitting at the table while pretending to be disinterested.
Unfortunately for me, the more Miss Isabella speaks, the more interested I become.
I can tell by the bored look on Mr. Cullen's face and by the tense way he's holding his body that he's ready to retire to the parlor with Mr. Volturi and Mr. Swan, but Isabella is in the middle of a story. Mr. Cullen would much rather talk business than listen to a story about the children Isabella reads to every week when she volunteers at her local library. When she finishes, he's the first to push his chair away from the table, signaling that dinner is over. After the men leave the room, I notice Isabella looking dejected and, possibly, embarrassed.
Without thinking, I take a step closer to the table and speak softly.
"I really enjoyed your story, Miss Isabella. I'm sure you make those children extremely happy."
I say it because it's true. I say it because Mr. Cullen should have said it himself. When Isabella looks at me with the most blinding smile, saying thank you, I want to say something else just to see her smile like that again.
~*~TC~*~
I eat a modest dinner in the servant's dining room before bidding everyone good night, and check on the men in the parlor one last time. Seeing that all three men are well on their way to being completely bashed, I close the doors to the parlor and make my way up the grand staircase.
As I walk along the hallway that eventually leads to the servant's staircase, I'm surprised when I hear giggling coming from a nearby room. I'm even more surprised when I get closer to the room and see that the door isn't closed completely.
I'm certain this is Miss Isabella's room and, as much as I'd love to peek in as I walk by, I know that would be the wrong thing to do. Just as I move to turn back around, meaning to take the long way back to my room, I hear a quiet voice speaking my name.
"Mr. Masen seems nice. Are there any romantic feelings between the two of you?"
I'm frozen in place as my brain tries to make sense of what I've just heard.
"Oh, no, Miss! My heart belongs to a groundskeeper here named Jasper."
I let out the deep breath I was holding and relax at the sound of Alice's chipper voice as she answers Miss Isabella. My feet automatically turn and lead me back toward the open door, curiosity getting the better of me.
I'm at war with myself as I inch closer and closer, knowing I could get fired for being here. This is the second time today I've snooped and pushed my luck and I can't say that I'm proud of my new personality trait. I also can't find it in me to care right now. I know the men won't be leaving the parlor anytime soon. Plus, I just can't seem to fight the urge to see Isabella one more time tonight.
When I'm as close as I can get to the door without making my presence known, I see more of her than I ever thought possible.
Isabella's hair is down and draped over her right shoulder as Alice unfastens and pulls away her ruffled dress, laying it gently on top of the bed. My breath quickens and my eyes become glued to Isabella as Alice then helps her out of her linen shift, leaving the beautiful woman in nothing but a satin corset.
I'm no innocent. I've been with a woman before and I've seen pictures that would surely make Ms. Esme gasp in utter disappointment of me but nothing has ever prepared me for the sight before me.
Isabella's skin is glowing in the candlelight and I can't help but trail my eyes down her exposed neck and shoulder, landing on her exquisite body. The corset cinches her waist so that her bosom is pushed up and her hips are rounded, making a perfect hourglass shape. It makes me want to curse the unwritten rules of society that claim a woman should ever wear more than this.
Isabella takes in a deep breath and, for a moment, I'm afraid I've been caught but it was only to aid Alice in the untying of the corset's laces. My fingers twitch with want as I watch the delicate ribbons being pulled from one side to the other. I want to be the one to undress Isabella. I want to unwrap and unravel her before making her come undone in my arms.
I've never had this kind of reaction to a woman before; I've never felt this much passion or been this attracted to anyone, let alone someone I barely know. I feel myself harden and I know I should be ashamed but I can't look away. I'm under a spell weaved by satin and lace, flesh and warmth, and I know I'm ruined forever.
Isabella's hands quickly cover her breasts, holding the material to her, as Alice nears the bottom of the corset. The movement breaks the trance I'm under and my eyes fly up to see Isabella's looking back at me through the reflection in the mirror she's standing in front of.
I expect shock. I expect outrage and anger. What I don't expect is a smile.
It's not the same bright smile I was given earlier at the dinner table. This time it's shy, but her eyes are sparkling.
She likes that I'm looking at her.
Not knowing what to do with this information, I ignore the warnings going off in my head and smile back at her, before slowly stepping away from the door.
As I make my way to my room, I look forward to being alone so that I can replay everything that just happened in my dreams.
A/Ns:
Our Edward is a little creeper, but who wouldn't want him spying on them through an open door?! Um, hello! I think I would have been inviting him right on in, but of course, this is a completely different era. However, if I'm not mistaken, Bella seemed to enjoy it just as much. ;) Next chapter will be up tomorrow! Thanks for reading, alerting, and reviewing!
A special thanks to our beta, Mauigirl60, for cleaning up our words!