Thank you so much to the team: Mel, Pamela, and Jill!
Chapter 7
When we return to the manor, Edward and I go our separate ways until supper.
I mostly hide in my rooms, too much a coward to face him.
When Angela comes to fetch me for supper, I have to take several deep breaths before I head downstairs.
Edward is sitting to the left of the head of the table, and my feet pause in their tracks when I see him. He looks up at me, offering me a small smile. I hesitate, staring at the head of the table—the seat he has clearly left for me. He stands, motioning me closer, and I swallow slowly, urging myself farther into the room.
"You look lovely," he says, surprising me. I glance at him. I have changed into a simple blue dress for the evening. It is nothing fancy, and in fact, it's significantly less binding than my usual gowns. I am sure under normal circumstances, it would be considered inappropriate for a lady my age to be dressed in such a way, but here in Rowanberry, there is no one but Edward to scold me.
It pleases me deeply that he does not.
"Thank you," I murmur, moving into the seat he is offering me. He guides the chair under me as I settle at the table, and when I am fully situated, he returns to his chair.
"I am famished," he tells me with a small smile, reaching for the plate nearest him. It looks like roasted pheasant with mushroom sauce.
"Me too," I admit, serving myself some roasted vegetables.
Edward looks at me, motioning to the pheasant. When I nod, he leans forward, scooping some onto my plate.
"I hope that you do not catch a chill from the water today," he says slowly. "I should have perhaps thought through my impulsive plan a little more."
I shake my head. "Not at all," I argue. "The water was freezing, but despite that, I enjoyed the swim."
It is not even a lie. Though I could hardly feel my own body in the water, there had been something liberating in the swim.
Even if I had been a coward afterward.
Edward reaches for another plate. "I have thought on our conversation," he says slowly, spooning pea pottage onto his plate. I look at him. "I think I am going to make a trip to call on my parents."
I nod in agreement, even though my stomach drops a little bit. "I think that sounds like a lovely idea," I say quietly. Edward's eyes are on me, but I turn back to my plate.
Why does it make me so sad to think of him leaving again? I know this is important for him—I cannot fathom ten years without sight nor sound of my sister.
I break off a piece of bread, gently nibbling one corner of it.
"Bella."
I look up at him, my throat dry. "Hm?"
He takes a deep breath then reaches out, his hand landing on my own. "I want you to come with me."
My stomach drops even more.
"L-leave Rowanberry?" I croak.
He nods. "Just for a short time. I want my family to meet you."
The breath leaves my body. How can I refuse that?
"A-all right," I agree, nodding my head slowly.
He smiles then, and I can feel the warmth of it flush through my whole being.
"Good. We will leave in the morning."
I blink in surprise, but rather than protest like I long to, I shove food into my mouth.
Silent and obedient, like a good wife should be.
…
I meet Edward downstairs shortly before dawn. I am exhausted, unaccustomed to waking at this hour.
The carriage that is almost never used is waiting for us, just outside. Angela, meets me by the door, pressing a cloth-wrapped package into my hands.
"Your breakfast, Mistress," she says gently.
I smile at her. "I wish you were coming with us," I admit.
She smiles gently. "I will be here, minding the house until you return," she promises.
I nod. "Feel free to take Sweetblue out while I am gone," I tell her. "I know you like to ride, and she could use the exercise."
Angela's eyes widen.
"Thank you," she breathes, ducking her head. I give her hand a small squeeze before turning toward the carriage.
Edward is standing by the door, waiting for me. He offers me his hand, and I take it, letting him help me inside.
The carriage is simple in its design, with dark green curtains over the windows and matching velvet cushions on the otherwise hardwood benches. I settle in my seat, looking up as Edward climbs in and sits opposite me.
"Good morning," he says, once we are both situated.
I smile a little at him. "Good morning."
Outside, I can hear young Seth goad the horses into motion.
Edward's stallion and another I have never seen before launch forward, and the carriage jolts with the sudden motion. I steady myself, reaching a hand out to the seat to brace.
After a few minutes, the carriage falls into a predictable and tolerable rhythm.
"How long do you expect we will be with your family?" I ask Edward, shortly into our journey.
He looks at me. "Not long, I should think," he says with a slight frown. "We have to be back in time for the duke's ball."
My stomach drops. The ball. How could I forget?
"Right." I sigh.
"Is a party hosted by the duke not to your liking?"
I look up when I hear the amusement in Edward's voice. It is hard to see what he thinks because he keeps his face carefully blank.
"I am not one for social calls," I admit. "I think I rather do better whilst I am home."
He nods slowly. "The duke expects me to be there. He says he wants to show me off." Edward looks less than impressed when he says this.
It makes me wonder what he thinks of being made general so early into his career. Does he not want the glory of his title?
"How did you become general?" I ask, frowning.
Edward looks at me in surprise. "What?"
I swallow before continuing. "When you…" I pause, glancing at him nervously. "When you left, you were but a soldier. You have returned a general. I cannot imagine there is not a good reason for it."
Edward does not look pleased by the thread of conversation, though that is no real surprise. From what I have observed, he does not care to talk about war.
"It is not a good story," Edward says quietly. "I am nothing spectacular. Just a man who found fate had another course for him than death in battle."
I feel a fissure of guilt for bringing this up. "I am sorry," I whisper quietly.
Edward does not respond, and instead, turns his attention out the window.
I sigh and do the same.
…
We stop for the night in a small village I have never heard of before. There is a single inn within its borders, and thankfully, they are able to receive us for the night.
Seth delivers Edward and myself to the front doors before driving the carriage around back to tend the horses. Left to our own devices, I follow Edward's lead.
He offers me his arm, and silently, I take it, letting him guide me into the inn.
My body is stiff from riding in the carriage all day, and all I truly want is warm food and a soft bed as soon as possible.
"Good evening, sir," a young woman says, spotting us as we enter. The entrance leads us to a tavern, and I have to assume that most of the patrons are locals and not also requiring rooms.
"My wife and I are in need of a room for the night," Edward says to the woman. I nearly jerk in surprise to hear him call me his wife. It is still such a foreign title for me to hold.
"Of course, sir. Let me show you to a room." She gently deposits mugs of ale onto a nearby table before wiping her hands on her apron and motioning for us to follow her.
There is a staircase beyond the tavern, and the woman leads us up, pulling a set of keys from her waist.
"This is the only room with a double bed," she says, glancing back at us. "I hope it is to your liking." She speaks as if expecting us to protest the accommodations, and that makes me anxious to see what we will find when the door swings open.
The room is small, but clean, housing a double bed as she said, as well as small fireplace, two chairs, and one small round table.
"This will do," Edward confirms, looking at her.
She ducks her head. "Would you like to come downstairs for some supper?"
Edward hesitates, but then my stomach growls, embarrassing me. He looks at me in surprise then smiles, turning back to the woman.
"Yes, I think we shall."
She nods, backing out of the room. "I will prepare plates for you. Come down whenever you are ready," she says, gently backing out of the room. When she is gone, I turn to stare at the bed again.
It is rather small, even for a double bed, and pressed against one wall, as if needing the support to stay upright.
"Shall we go down and eat?"
I turn to Edward, finding him staring at me. I suck in a breath and nod.
"Yes," I tell him, deciding to put off thinking about the bed until after I have some food in me.
We leave the room and descend the stairs. The tavern is crowded with patrons, and it takes a moment for Edward to find us a table.
There is one near the edge of the room beside a stained glass window that looks out onto the street. Edward cuts through the crowd easily to lead us there, and I follow him, like a minnow following a gar.
We settle at the table, and within minutes, the woman is back, placing large plates in front of us. "I will be back with drinks," she promises, leaving before I can request something other than ale.
I look down at the plate in front of me, and immediately my mouth begins to water. I can smell the roasted chicken with mushroom gravy, even before the pie is opened.
"I am famished."
I glance up at Edward to see him eyeing his food appreciatively. I nod in agreement when he looks at me.
"Shall we tuck in?" I ask.
He nods. "Let's. Do you have a knife?"
He hands me a blade when I shake my head, and gently, I pierce the pie. A billow of white steam meets me, carrying with it the scent of spiced meats and buttery mushrooms. It smells divine.
"Is this village the halfway point?" I ask, once Edward and I begin to eat. The pie is hot and flakey, oozing with flavor. I cannot eat it fast enough, even though it is still hot enough to burn my tongue.
"It is." Edward nods. "A little farther, actually. We should be in my parents' village sometime around late afternoon tomorrow."
The woman comes back with large goblets of ale. She smiles at us as she delivers them, and my mouth is too full to stop and ask her for some wine. She leaves, and I eye the drinks.
"Is something the matter?"
I look at Edward.
"I have not a head for ale," I admit. "It often makes me drunk far quicker than I realize."
Edward frowns, looking surprised. "I can order something else for you," he says, twisting in his seat. He tries to get the woman's attention, but she is buried by the demands of her other patrons.
"It is all right," I tell him. I am too thirsty to kick up too much of a fuss.
Edward turns to look at me, a question in his eyes. I try to give him a reassuring smile as I reach for the goblet.
The ale is strong, the alcohol burning my throat lightly as I take a large swig. It does quench my thirst though, and I set the mug down on the table, hoping it will not be too hard on me this time.
"I remember the first time I got drunk on ale," Edward muses, slicing into his pie. I look up at him curiously. "I was far too young to know any better, and Marcus and Caius thought it would be amusing. They plied me with stolen ale from my father's stores until I was so drunk I could hardly stand. Then they set me upon my mother's pastries whilst she was in the village. She came home to every last one eaten and me vomiting in her garden. My head was split for nearly three days afterward, and the greatest punishment was having to get up every day for my chores." Edward shakes his head, smiling to himself. "The next summer, the three of us ganged up on Michael."
I snort a laugh, despite myself, and Edward shoots me a small smile.
"It sounds like you grew up in a happy home," I tell him, truly believing it. I cannot imagine my father—or worse, grandmother—taking kindly to any sort of shenanigans I might have had in mind as a child.
"It was," Edward agrees. "There was never quite enough to go around—food, clothes, beds—everything was always shared, always in high demand. But there was a lot of laughter and joy in my childhood that I would not trade for all the king's riches."
The way he speaks about his family makes me yearn for that feeling. Rosalie and I are close, but we have never been so carefree. That has not been the way of our life, and I fear it never will be.
"It is one reason why I wish to have many children," Edward says, drawing me out of my thoughts. I look up at him in surprise. He is watching my face, gauging my reaction.
"C-children?" I squeak.
He nods. "Yes, one day. I would like a large family, especially since I can now responsibly care for them."
My mouth goes dry. This is not the first time he has made mention of having children, and though I too yearn for a baby one day, I feel woefully unprepared for even this conversation, let alone a child of my own.
"Is it not your desire to have children?"
I look up at Edward in surprise. "No, it is not that," I say, quickly shaking my head. "I suppose I am still trying to remember that we are married…" My voice trails off, and I bite at my lip to keep the rest of my words inside.
Edward does not look angry; rather, he looks a little sad.
Have I offended him?
I do not want to get into any sort of fight, not when we have been getting along so well, so my mind grasps for a change in topic.
"Rosalie told me that after the ball, they are planning to depart for the capital to call upon the king," I say, poking at my food.
I look up at Edward in time to see him masking a scowl.
"I am sure the duke is thrilled to be invited to the capital," he says stiffly.
I frown. "Have you been?"
His pine eyes meet mine very briefly. "Yes, I have."
I have never been to the capital, but everyone I know who has will not stop talking about it. They are compelled to rave about the size, the magnificence, the sheer grandeur.
"Was it not to your liking?"
Edward looks surprised at my question. "The capital is a brilliant city," he says after a moment. "Absolutely unparalleled in its wonders."
He still looks stiff, as if there is something he is not saying.
I cannot help myself but prod a little more.
"However…" I trail off, watching him closely.
He looks at me. "Large cities attract all sorts of problems of their own. It is not something often taken into consideration when people visit."
I ponder that. I have not traveled much at all in my life. The village I grew up in was small but on a trade route, which is how Rosalie managed to be anywhere to catch the attention of the duke. Until we departed for his castle, I had never left the village.
I cannot even begin to guess the lands Edward has seen, and the apparent atrocities he has witnessed within them all.
…
"You take the side by the wall," Edward says as we stand in our room. My head is swimming from the ale, and I am a little dizzy when I look up at him.
"Hm?"
He motions behind me, and I turn.
"The bed. I want you to sleep on the side by the wall."
I turn back toward him, my head feeling heavy. "Why?"
Edward lets out a breath. "Your safety for one," he says, gently nudging me backward. I stumble and reach up, bracing myself on his arms. "If someone were to break into our room, I would like to have you as far from the door as possible."
I grin, and his lips tug up into a small smile.
"And for another, this bed is small. I do not want to accidentally send you to the floor in the middle of the night."
I giggle at the thought.
"Perhaps I shall just sleep on top of you." I sigh. "That is, if you do not mind holding me in place all night."
Edward does not laugh with me, and I twist between looking at him and the bed and back again.
"Whoa." I pause, reaching out to steady myself again when I get dizzy from moving too quickly.
"Come on." Edward sighs, his large hands reaching for the ties of my dress.
"I-I do not w-want to." I pause, even in my drunk state unable to say the words.
Edward frowns. "What is it, Bella?"
My mouth is suddenly sealed shut, and instead, I point toward his groin. His eyes drop down, trying to see where I am gesturing. He looks up at me in surprise.
"Bella, as much as I would love to be with you properly, you are far too drunk."
I stare up at him blankly, and he sighs. His breath is warm as it fans over my cheeks.
"Come along, Love. Let's get you ready for bed."
This time, I let him pull the ties of my dress loose. He navigates it off my body, leaving me in my shift. "Sit," he tells me gently, pushing lightly on my shoulders. I stumble to the bed, leaning back with a sigh. Edward gets down onto his knees in front of me, and I frown in confusion.
"What are you doing?"
He glances up at me, pulling my shift up. "Removing your stockings," he says, pulling the material up just far enough that he can reach my knees. He gently unties the ribbon around my stockings and slides them off my feet.
"Tell me if your feet get cold in the night. We can put them back on," he promises me. I nod. "All right, get into bed." He reaches up, pulling the blanket down, and I scoot into the bed, nestling against the wall. He stands, removing his tunic and boots. I watch him curiously to see if he will remove his trousers. He does not, and I find I am relieved.
He snuffs the candle in the room and makes his way back to the bed. I can feel the blanket move as he slides in beside me, his body immediately engulfing me.
"I am sorry," he says quietly, his arms coming around me and hoisting me up so that he can get comfortable. I let him reposition me, and when he is finally settled, I let my body melt into his side.
"Goodnight, Edward," I whisper into the dark.
"Goodnight, my Bella."