Author's Note: Thank you all again for the reviews, follows, and favorites from the first three chapters! I hope you all enjoy the fourth installment of my little story.

- Chapter 4: Half Past -

"Miss Swan, a moment?"

I nearly tripped over my own feet in my surprise—I had been prepared for Edward's standard dismissal as I ushered Nessie down the stairs to bed after their nightly rendezvous. But instead, he was gesturing me in.

I gaped, unable to compel my voice from my throat.

"Nessie, will you be all right getting ready for bed by yourself tonight?" he asked my charge, baiting her a little.

"Of course!" She seemed to grow an inch or two as she straightened up, indignant. "I am almost nine."

"Very well, then," he said. "Mind you go straight to sleep—I'll know if you stay up."

"Yes, Uncle," Nessie said. She turned on her little heel and swanned down the hall haughtily, preening with self-satisfied independence. I might have laughed were I not still recovering from shock.

Edward cleared his throat genteelly, calling my attention back to his upturned palm inviting me to sit.

"Please," he said. "I won't keep you long."

I realized I was worrying my lower lip again. Forcing my teeth to release the flesh before I drew blood, I stepped into Edward's study for the first time.

I had seen glimpses of it from the doorway, of course, but I hadn't wanted to come off as nosy by craning my neck for a better look. Now, with an invitation, I let my eyes wander.

It was unfussy, less curated than the library off the entry hall. The shelves lining the walls here were freestanding and mismatched, the books jumbled and stacked rather than carefully filed, as though they were often removed and replaced. The floor—wide, worn plank like in my room, rather than the elegant parquet of the formal rooms—was covered in layered antique rugs. A clunky, homely desk hunkered before the large leaded windows that would overlook the back lawn, were there any light to see by.

Edward sat down in one of two chintzy armchairs on one side of the utilitarian fireplace. A worn leather Chesterfield rounded out the comfortable semi-circle.

"Sit," Edward invited.

Ignoring the chair to which he'd motioned, I primly perched on the edge of the sofa across the fire. Raising my chin a little, I met his gaze, ignoring the now-familiar fizz of electricity that settled over my skin whenever he looked at me.

His topaz eyes flickered back and forth over mine, as though searching for an in. Finding none, he drew a careful breath.

"I'm very pleased with what I've seen of Nessie's progress, Miss Swan."

I blinked. Whatever I'd been expecting, this was not it.

"I can tell she likes you very much."

He attempted a smile, and I found myself mesmerized by the way the warm gold of his irises caught the firelight.

"I—I like her too, Mr. Cullen."

The slight stammer made me cringe—my first conversation with him and I was already stumbling over my words. All my bile from the last few days seemed to have dissipated in my shock.

"Yes. Well." His lips pressed together for the briefest of pauses. "I wanted to speak with you tonight to see if you intend to stay on."

My heart began to race—why? I wondered. "I do, sir," I answered aloud cautiously.

"So I haven't offended you too terribly with my boorish behavior?" His tone was light, but I could hear a hint of uncertainty.

"Well, I wouldn't say that."

I spoke before I'd had a chance to think, and I could have bit my tongue in half at my impulsivity.

Edward's dark eyebrows shot up til they nearly touched the lock of hair that had flopped over his forehead. Something in my expression must have amused him, though; one corner of his mouth slowly curved up.

"Well, Miss Swan," he said, "tell me the nature of the offense, so I might remedy it."

My cheeks were flaming; I hoped the glow of the fire might hide my blush, but the crinkling of Edward's eyes told me I had no such luck. I pressed my lips together, thinking fast. How much candor could I get away with?

"By all means, speak freely—you've already said the half of it."

He was smirking now, the brute.

"How did you know what I was thinking?" I asked somewhat peevishly. I didn't like that he could read me so easily.

He laughed then. "Oh, Miss Swan, believe me—I have absolutely no inkling of what's going on inside your head."

My eyes narrowed. It felt like he was teasing me, but I couldn't decipher what about.

"All right," I said with more bravado than I felt, straightening in my seat and looking him squarely in the eye. "You don't like me."

Edward stilled. The signs of surprise were subtle, but I had studied him enough by now to notice them; a minute lift of the brow, the faint parting of his lips.

"Why do you say that?"

I barely stopped myself from scoffing. "You haven't said more than a dozen words to me combined since I've been here, aside from yesterday by the dock. And that was only to chastise me."

His eyes narrowed. "Circumstantial," he said. "I've been away."

"Oh yes, away," I repeated. My indignation was returning in full force now, the ember I'd so ill-advisedly stoked now catching alight. "Interesting that you went away right after our first meeting. Sir."

If I hadn't been watching him, I might have missed the split-second glint of fear in his bright eyes. What could he possibly be afraid of? I felt a flutter of unease in my chest.

Regaining his composure, Edward sat back slightly in his worn armchair, steepling his fingers over his chest. "You're rather perceptive," he conceded.

"So you were angry with me that day."

"Not with you."

I made no reply, merely staring him down to wait for some kind of explanation. He sighed and ran the long fingers of one hand through his hair, mussing up the crown.

"Miss Swan, I owe you an apology," he said finally. "You're right, I've been…preoccupied since you arrived, and I've behaved very rudely. I did not intend to give you the impression that you've displeased me in any way. Quite the contrary, actually. Can you forgive me?"

Edward's voice certainly seemed sincere; I took in his earnest expression and thought briefly back to what Angela had said to me the other day. Painfully reserved, she'd called him. Well, perhaps this was my opportunity to get beyond his natural reticence.

"Yes, sir, I think I can," I replied, and I found to my surprise that I actually meant it.

The smile that brightened his face was the first genuine one I'd elicited from him, and the sight sent a warm glow of pleasure through my belly. "Edward, please," he said.

I returned the smile, unable to help myself. "All right." I felt suddenly shy. "If you'll call me Bella."

"Bella, then," Edward agreed.

We regarded each other for a moment. It seemed we had reached a new understanding, and for that, I was glad.

The clock on the rough-hewn mantle chimed quietly—half past nine.

"I should make sure Nessie's actually in bed," I murmured.

"Wait," Edward said, standing suddenly and crossing to the desk. "Your pay."

I stood as well and followed him to the other side of the room by the window. It was darker there, the flickering orange firelight dissipating into dull shadow.

"Two weeks' wages," he said as he pulled a white envelope from a drawer. "You'll be paid weekly from now on."

He went to place it down on the desk but I was already reaching to take it from him, and our fingers brushed.

I inhaled sharply at the contact. His hand was ice cold, though he'd been sitting by the warmth of the fire for at least an hour now.

He snatched his hand away as though I had burned him. "Excuse me," he mumbled.

The place where his skin had met mine tingled, and I fought the urge to rub it with my free hand. "Not at all," I breathed, looking down at my feet.

Edward hesitated then, as though unsure whether he should speak again.

"Bella, one more thing," he began, and I could feel his eyes searching my face in the gloom. "I…" He swallowed audibly, and I looked up at him again. "I should like the opportunity to…know you better," he said. "If that's all right."

My brow furrowed; I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Would you perhaps join me again tomorrow night?" he continued. "Stay when you bring Nessie?"

It took me a few tries to respond. "I—ah—well, yes, I suppose that would be all right," I finally managed.

I was backing up now, towards the door. Edward remained behind the desk, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"I should go now," I said, groping behind my back for the doorknob. "Good night, Edward."

"Good night, Bella," he said softly, but I was already fleeing down the hall to the back stairs.

When I was safely on the second floor, I closed the door to the servants' stairs and leaned against it, breathing deeply to steady myself. I had been waiting, of course, for some shift in my relations with my employer; the standoffish dance we'd been locked in had been driving me mad. But tonight was…not what I expected.

When my heartbeat had returned to some semblance of normal, I crept down the hall to Nessie's door. I heard no response to my soft knock, and when I peeked inside, I could hear deep, rhythmic breaths from the lump in her bed.

Satisfied that she was truly asleep, I returned to my own room for the night to mull over this strange new piece in the puzzle that was Edward Cullen.

- o - o - o -

Our run of false-spring weather met its end the next day. A deluge of sleet splattered against the windows, driven sideways by an icy wind that sent ghostly wails down the chimneys and made open doors suddenly slam shut. Persephone, it seemed, had been drug back to the Underworld til her scheduled release.

I was glad Angela and Ben weren't working; I couldn't imagine the state of the roads, but I doubted Ben's old jalopy could make the journey.

Despite the gloom, I found myself feeling downright cheery. I hummed a little tune to myself as I prepared eggs with soldiers for breakfast. Nessie, who hadn't made her appearance just yet, loved dipping the little strips of toast into the runny yolk.

I was pulling the soft-boiled eggs out of the roiling pot when I heard the kitchen door swing open and shut behind me. "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes, dear," I said without looking. "Shall I cut up some fruit, too?"

"I'm all right, thank you."

I jumped at the sound of Edward's voice, sending the egg on my spoon flying. It hit the stone floor with a wet splat! that exploded the orange yolk and just-set whites all over my stockings.

"Drat!" I said. "You have got to stop sneaking up on me!"

"Sorry," Edward apologized, looking amused as he crossed to the sink. "I didn't think I was sneaking."

He wetted a rag, and I waved my hand at him.

"Don't worry about that," I said, turning back to fish the last of the eggs from the water. "I'll get it in a moment."

Edward ignored me and bent down to wipe up the mess at my feet.

"Thank you," I murmured.

He smiled up at me, and my breath caught. If I had thought the dour, serious Edward I'd known so far was handsome…this one was downright angelic.

I swallowed and turned back to my task. "One egg or two?" I asked him. "I'll make more."

"I already ate," he said, standing to shake the bits of shell and egg out of the cloth over the bin.

I felt that familiar prickling at the back of my mind—something didn't quite make sense.

"You must have been up very early," I said mildly as I arranged a plate for Nessie. "I sat with my tea for a while before I started breakfast. And you cleaned up after yourself very thoroughly—all the groceries Angela brought were still nicely packed away. I'm impressed."

I glanced over at him, now seated at the kitchen table. He was watching me closely, face impassive.

"I like to keep things orderly," he said finally.

I raised a brow but decided not to comment further. "So if you're not here for breakfast, is there something else I can do for you?"

Edward leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs straight as he idly ruffled his hair. I blinked, slightly dazzled, and forced my attention back to cutting Nessie's toast into thin strips.

"I was hoping to talk to you, actually." There was a hint of embarrassment in his tone, and I had to fight the urge to check if he was blushing.

"About?"

"Do you know how to drive?"

Now I had to look at him. "Why?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

Edward smiled crookedly, looking slightly flustered—but no color tinged the high planes of his cheekbones. "Well, I realized the other day that you had no way to leave the property," he began. "I thought I might get another motorcar. You could use it to take Nessie on educational trips if you like, and it would of course be available to you if you wanted to go somewhere on your days off. I wouldn't want you to feel trapped here."

I felt a bit stunned. "A second motorcar?" I repeated.

"Yes," Edward said. "I can teach you to drive if you don't know how. Or Ben," he added as an afterthought.

It was a very generous offer. I bit my lip as I thought of the long lines at the soup kitchens and employment offices I passed each day back in Seattle—the Crash of '29 had long tentacles, and the country was in the grips of a crisis. And here we were, cozy in our mansion, talking about a second motorcar so I could entertain myself.

"I know how to drive," I said quietly. "But Edward, it's really not necessary—"

"Please don't argue," he interrupted me, flashing that charming smile. "It's not only for you, anyway. Alice had no way to get around while Jasper was gone, and Miss Weber could use it now and again too, if Ben weren't available."

"Fine," I said. "Do as you please."

Edward chuckled—a low sound that made my stomach tighten. "I certainly will."

Just then, Nessie came slumping through the kitchen door. "It's horrible outside," she whined. "I wanted to practice on my bicycle later."

Lopping off the top of the egg I'd set in a cup for her, I stifled a grin. "What, you'd let this drizzle stop you? You won't melt in the rain, you know," I said, shooting Edward a sly look.

Edward cottoned on. "Bella has a point, Nessie," he said seriously. "If you wait for a sunny day, you'll never get the chance. I for one think it builds character for children to be outside in all manner of weather."

A particularly fierce shriek of wind rattled the windows. Nessie's head bounced between us, face comically horrified as she searched for some hint that we were joking. Edward held firm, but I felt the corner of my mouth start to twitch.

"You're teasing me!" Nessie accused, catching the crack in my facade.

"Ah, Bella," Edward admonished. "We almost had her."

I laughed then and held out my arm to my charge. She made a face at me but slipped into my one-sided embrace willingly. "We'll go bicycling again soon," I said, smoothing her hair. "But you're right—I think today ought to be an inside play day."

"Can I have two eggs?" she asked, fingers inching up to the toast I'd laid in a line like the soldiers they were named for.

"Finish this one first," I said, giving her creeping hand a playful rap on the knuckles. "And sit down at the table to eat. You're a lady, not a wild animal."

She giggled but did as I said.

When I turned to put her plate on the table, I caught Edward's gaze. He was watching me with an unnameable expression in his eye, something delicate and bruised. But as soon as I saw it, it was gone, his features schooled again in his customary stoicism.

As Nessie tucked into her breakfast with relish, I fixed my own plate and sat down beside her. Edward was directly across from me, making me hesitate as I picked up my buttered toast. It felt awkward eating in front of him—he'd never sat with us during a meal before, and with no food of his own to distract him, I was keenly aware of his eyes on Nessie and me.

"I ought to go do some work," Edward said then, as though he could feel my discomfort. "But Nessie, I wanted to ask if you would mind if I joined your lesson this afternoon?"

Though he was addressing his niece, he was looking at me; I could feel him asking my permission, too. I gave him a subtle nod.

"Oh, yes, please!" Nessie replied, beaming.

"We're mounting the dried plants in a journal today," I told Edward, "and recording our scientific observations."

He placed both hands on the table with finality. "Then it's settled." He pushed himself up from his seat and rounded the table to stand behind Nessie. "Be good," he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze and, after the slightest hesitation, leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

Nessie glowed at the affection, and she smiled up at her uncle. "I will!"

And with a nod to me, Edward was gone.

- o - o - o -

I felt a tremor of anticipation as I followed Nessie up to Edward's study that evening. I'd made this short pilgrimage every night for the better part of a week, but tonight it felt different, knowing that I'd been invited to stay.

For once, the door to Edward's study was already open, welcoming us both in. He was sitting in his usual chair by the fire, a book in his lap, but he looked up as we emerged from the stairs.

"Hello, you two," he said, standing to greet us. I noted the far more informal reception with some gratification. Our chat the night before seemed to have smoothed much of the tension between us, and I was glad of the camaraderie that had so far taken its place.

As always, he was captivating in the firelight, his pale skin reflecting the flickering glow of the flames. The hesitant, crooked smile on his lips softened the sharp edges of his features.

Heat flooded my cheeks as I realized I was staring, and I ducked my head.

Nessie, bless her, provided an excellent distraction as she scampered forward to the chair next to Edward.

I felt a little wrongfooted as I followed a few steps behind and took my place on the Chesterfield. This was unfamiliar territory, even after the surprising ease of the afternoon lessons. When Edward joined us in the drawing room, he had been on my turf, to some extent. Now, however, I was firmly in his domain.

"Did you like your dinner?" Nessie asked her uncle eagerly. She had helped me prepare the pot roast and insisted on plating and delivering Edward's portion herself, carefully balancing the tray as she climbed the two flights of stairs to the study.

"Very much," Edward said. "Thank you for bringing it to me. I might have worked straight through supper, otherwise."

Nessie dimpled, pleased with herself.

"Now, tell me what you discovered in that encyclopedia of yours."

After our hour mounting and labeling the plant specimens we'd dried, Edward had helped Nessie extract a decades-old massive tome from the library that detailed the uses of plants in the Oregon Territory. She had clearly taken a great interest in the subject, which I suspected was in part thanks to her budding friendship with Ben.

Nessie was thrilled to recount her research to her uncle, who listened intently and asked probing questions at all the right moments. I was content to listen to their back-and-forth, enjoying the opportunity to watch Edward interact with his niece.

She was lucky to have him, I thought. It was a delicate role but he filled it rather naturally, showing her the paternal affection she obviously craved without giving off the impression he was trying to replace her father.

Not for the first time, I felt a wave of sadness for my little charge. She had lost so much, and so suddenly.

Nobody had given me the details of her father's death, though I'd gotten some hints from Nessie that all had not been well in the months before. I would never press the girl on the subject, but I wondered if I might talk to Edward about it. I wanted to offer any support to her that I could and I thought perhaps that knowing more of her story might help.

Plus, I had to admit I was desperately curious about the circumstances that had brought young Nessie into Edward's life.

I bit back a smile at the serious expression on my employer's face as he listened intently to Nessie, who was now listing her favorite native flowers from the book she'd borrowed and where she thought they might look for them come spring. Yes, it was clear that he loved his little ward, regardless of how unforeseen her arrival had been.

"What are you reading, Uncle Edward?" Nessie suddenly asked, having exhausted the subject of plants.

Edward looked slightly startled to find the attention turned to him, but he recovered quickly, picking up his book from the side table.

"Notre-Dame de Paris," he answered, holding up the volume. "Victor Hugo."

"In the French?" I chimed in, unable to curb my curiosity.

Edward looked at me, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Bien sûr." His accent was flawless.

"What's it about?" Nessie had tucked her legs underneath her and was lifting herself up over the arm of her chair to lean closer to her uncle.

Edward handed her the book. "In English, it's known as the Hunchback of Notre-Dame," he said. "It's about the lives of many people centered around the great cathedral in Paris in the 15th century."

Nessie wrinkled her nose as she flipped through the pages. "Sounds boring," she said finally, handing it back.

Edward laughed. "Well, I think some critics might disagree with you," he said, "but we're all entitled to our own opinions."

She seemed unsure if he was teasing her or not, and she huffed.

"You're welcome to look for something that's more to your taste," he offered, motioning to the shelves. "There ought to be at least one or two novels there that would interest you."

Nessie brightened at this and jumped off her chair to examine the offerings. "Miss Bella, will you help me choose?" she asked. "You always know the best books!"

"Happy to oblige," I replied.

Though the shelves appeared haphazard, I quickly saw they were actually very well-organized, by the author's last name and then publication date. And not a reference book in sight.

"So this is where you keep all the good stuff," I said over my shoulder to Edward.

He chuckled. "My father always kept fiction separate," he said, standing to follow us. "I suppose the habit stuck."

I wondered whether he meant Carlisle or his birth father but didn't ask.

Edward made a beeline for a shelf near the door, tapping a finger to his pursed lips as he scanned the titles.

"Aha!" he said under his breath when he landed on what he was searching for. "Nessie, you might like this one."

I couldn't make out the title of the book he pulled out from my vantage point on the other side of the room.

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," Edward said, both for Nessie's benefit and mine. "Have you read it before?"

Nessie shook her head, already crossing the room to inspect his offering. "Miss Maggie thought it might frighten me," she said, meaning her former nanny. "She said I might like it better if I waited til I was older."

Edward suddenly looked unsure. "Oh, I see." He looked down at the cover. "Well, maybe something a bit less…"

I could see what was happening in his head; he was nervous now about his ability to choose something appropriate.

"I think you'll love it, Nessie," I said confidently. "It's not so scary, really, just full of very odd, very curious happenings."

I could see the excitement in Nessie's wide eyes as she started to reach for the book in Edward's hands.

"Can I try it?" she asked him, her natural inquisitiveness piqued.

"If it does frighten you, just stop and we can find you something else," he said, handing her the novel.

She took it happily and scampered off to her chair to begin. Edward, however, lingered in the gloom, watching me intently. I sent him a small smile, then turned back to the shelves in front of me, browsing through the titles. I didn't see any modern novels—everything was at least a few decades old, great classics and influential authors, some with multiple editions and languages.

"Find anything you like?" he asked, behind me now.

I managed not to jump; I was getting used to how silently he moved.

"You have a very impressive collection," I said without turning around. "Are they all yours?"

He stepped up beside me, where I could see him out of my peripheral vision. "Most of the ones up here, anyway," he responded. "I think Alice and Esme have added some over the years. The downstairs library is more Carlisle's domain, though."

I risked a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. One corner of his lip quirked upward, and he was scanning the spines before him.

"Alice said it was his family that built this place?"

Edward looked at me then. "Yes. The original estate in Sheffield has been in his family for over four hundred years, but some ancestor or another had moved to the US in the late 18th century. So the house had been leased out for some time when Carlisle's…ah…grandfather brought his new wife to see it, and she fell in love with it. So he arranged for it to be dismantled and shipped here."

My jaw dropped. "So they rebuilt the whole thing, piece by piece?" He nodded. "What a wedding present."

He laughed. "Yes, I gather the man was very devoted to his wife's happiness."

"So how long has it been here?"

Edward thought for a moment. "I think they began the whole process in 1885, but it took a couple of years to complete."

"Wow," I murmured. "Did Carlisle grow up here then?"

"Not really, it's just one of many places his family owned," he said vaguely.

I nodded. I wanted to ask more questions, but Edward seemed finished with this particular topic of conversation. I opted to turn my attention back to the books.

"I see you're a Tolstoy fan," I commented, seeing the vast collection of the author's works in translation and the original Russian.

Edward hummed, which I took to be agreement.

I pulled out a very old copy of Anna Karenina—or so I supposed based on its location, as the title was in Cyrillic. "You speak Russian, too?"

"A bit, but not enough for that book," he said. "Carlisle's…cousins are Russian, and they've given him some books over the years. He reads well enough to get through Tolstoy."

I flipped through the pages, smiling as I saw scrawled notes in the margins in a mix of Russian and English. I too liked to annotate.

I replaced the book on the shelf and continued down the wall

Edward followed. "You like to read, I take it," he observed, watching my fingers trail reverently over the spines of some of the greatest writing in the Western world—and some from further afield, too.

"Oh yes," I said, pausing to examine a very old-looking copy of the Tale of Genji. "I'd originally hoped to go to a university to study literature. I was accepted to Vassar and Bryn Mawr, actually."

"But you didn't go?"

I smiled sadly at him. It was an old disappointment, but I still felt its sting now and again. "No," I said. "They offered some scholarship money, but I couldn't quite make it work."

"So you went to a teachers' college instead."

"Yes. The tuition was more manageable and it was only two years." I moved down the line to the very beginning of the alphabet, where some of my favorites resided. "I thought helping others discover the magic of words would be a fine alternative."

Now in the company of my friends the Brontës and Austen, I snuck a glance at Edward. He had a pensive look on his face, mulling over something I'd said.

"What other languages do you speak, then?" I asked. "Besides French and Russian."

He blinked a few times, clearing away his thoughts. "Well, I've studied Latin and Greek," he began.

"Naturally."

Hearing the sarcasm, he gave me a narrow look but continued. "Spanish is my best modern language. My Italian's not bad, and I can generally muddle along in German."

"Impressive," I murmured, brows raised. "You must have had a very fine education."

He shrugged. "I suppose."

I had that nagging feeling again, like I was missing some central piece of information. "Why not tutor Nessie yourself then?" I asked. "You're clearly far better educated than I."

Edward took on that unnaturally still expression that I'd come to think meant there was something he didn't wish to reveal. "I might be well-read and speak a few languages, but I know nothing about pedagogy or didactics," he said. "And with my business commitments, I wouldn't be able to be consistent with her lessons. Plus…I thought…" He pressed his lips together, hesitating a moment. "I thought it best that she have a woman in her life to look up to, I suppose."

I turned slightly to look at Nessie, happily engrossed in Wonderland by the fire, and felt a swell of sentiment. Like me, she had grown up without a mother. That ache was different from the heartbreak of losing a parent you'd known.

"Bella," Edward said softly, calling my attention back to him. He was uncharacteristically fidgety, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I…I really am very glad that you're here. For Nessie."

The hot flush of embarrassment hit my cheeks, but it was tinged with pleasure, too.

"Thank you," I replied, voice low. "I'm glad to be here, too."

It was an awkward moment, both of us unsure of what to say. I cleared my throat and tried to search for a new topic.

"You're welcome to borrow whatever you like," Edward said finally. "Tonight, or anytime."

Grateful for the segue, I nodded enthusiastically. "I'd love to, thank you."

He sent me one last smile, then drifted back to his chair where his own book was waiting, leaving me to make my selection. I opted not to re-read any of my favorites and settled instead on a translation of Cervantes's Exemplary Novels.

We spent the next hour reading together, all three of us circled around the fireplace. It was, I thought, the most peaceful I'd felt in ages. I was secretly disappointed when Nessie began drooping over her book, forcing me to declare it her bedtime.

"Please, take it with you," Edward said, holding my book out to me as I ushered Nessie toward the door.

Smiling, I accepted it from him with a quiet thanks. We both stilled for a moment as our eyes met, and I might have stayed there some time were it not for Nessie's jaw-cracking yawn.

Edward chuckled, placing an affectionate hand on her head. "All right, to bed with you," he said to her.

"Good night, Edward," I murmured.

"Good night, Bella."

As I led Nessie away, I did my best to ignore the fluttering in my chest. No good could come of examining that sensation, of that I was sure.

- o - o - o -

Author's Note: A lil sweetness before we get back to the ominous!

A quick question for all of you. I've pretty much decided that this entire story will be from BPOV for...suspense/mystery reasons. HOWEVER, I happen to adore EPOV. Would you all be interested in some companion one-shots/drabbles from his perspective? I'm considering publishing a few when we get further into the story (just so I don't spoil anything). Let me know in the comments!