Good morning, Loves!

Thank you ever so much to Mel and Pamela!

XVII

BELLA

12 September 1897

Darjeeling, India

It has been two weeks already since our arrival at Esme and Carlisle's house, and already I feel more at home here than I ever have anywhere else.

Edward spends his days apprenticing under his uncle. It turns out my husband has quite the mind for medicine, and his adoration of Carlisle only helps his enthusiasm along.

Whilst he is busy learning a new skill, I have been spending my days with Esme and Mrs. Kaur. In some ways, Esme reminds me of my maman. Both have a deep love of plants, and Esme spends a good deal of her time tending to her greenhouse, showing me the wonderful exotic fruits and flowers she's collected over the years. She is softer than Maman, more patient, though I suppose if given the opportunity to raise me in any sort of normal capacity, my maman might have been more lenient and fun.

Her ever-present awareness of the lack of time she had with me had left the taste of urgency in everything she did and said with me.

It took a bit of time, but eventually I got Mrs. Kaur to teach me how to cook. I could feed myself, certainly, mostly basic recipes that relied on very few ingredients, but I'd never spent time learning the art of coaxing a sauce to life or layering spices to make the perfect entree.

It is difficult and surprisingly strenuous work, but I am constantly delighted by Mrs. Kaur's abundant knowledge and wisdom.

"This is called thukpa," Mrs. Kaur says as I carefully chop a pile of vegetables. Mrs. Kaur is working on slicing the goat, since I nearly lose my breakfast every time I look at the raw meat. "It is a recipe from our neighbors," she says right before her butcher's knife makes a thunking sound as it hacks through the flesh.

"Neighbors?" I ask, automatically looking up to a window where I can see other houses from our hilltop vantage.

"No, no," Mrs. Kaur says, shaking her head. "Druk Yul," she said, gesturing east.

I repeat the phrase under my breath, trying to place it before it clicks a moment later. "Oh, Bhutan?"

Mrs. Kaur nods. "Yes. My mother come from there," she says, a soft smile on her face.

"Really?"

Mrs. Kaur nods. "I was born in Thimphu, but my mother brought me here when I was just a baby."

"Why did she leave Bhutan?"

Mrs. Kaur shrugs one shoulder. "There was much war, and she feared it would reach my family." She looks up at me and grins. "It has been a happy life in India," she says. "I have only known this one home, and it has been good to me." She tilts her head. "Sometimes, it is not where we are born, but where we end up. I suspect you know of what I speak, eh?"

My eyes drop to the vegetables, and my silence must be enough of an answer for her because she chuckles and continues chopping.

No one has outright asked me where I've come from, not yet anyway, though I know it is only a matter of time. I am surrounded by highly intelligent people. Surely someone is bound to piece together that I seem as if I do not belong.

Outside, I hear the gentle opening and shutting of the greenhouse door, and a moment later, Esme is entering the kitchen with a large basket of herbs she places on the table beside me.

"For your soup," she says, giving me a loving pat on the shoulder.

The fresh cut plants are pungent, and though I would normally love the scent, I can feel my stomach roil now.

"Excuse me," I gasp, standing.

Esme watches me in alarm as I race out of the kitchen into the yard.

Outside it is cold, and the bracing chill of the air helps to clear my head.

I wrap my shawl tighter around my shoulders and breathe deeply, my eyes fluttering shut. More and more I have suspected that I am pregnant. My periods have never been regular—they couldn't be given the state of my life up until a few months ago—but I have not bled once since my arrival in 1897, and recently I have experienced an increase in sensitivity to things I have never once had an aversion to.

I take a deep breath of mountain air and try to let it settle me.

When we first arrived in Darjeeling, the elevation wreaked havoc on me. It has been a slow adjustment, one that has further stopped me from properly identifying whether or not I am pregnant. Is it a baby making me tired, or elevation sickness?

When I feel I have caught my breath again, I head back inside, wincing when I see Esme has taken up my place chopping vegetables.

"I'm sorry," I say, settling at the table beside her.

"Are you all right?" Esme asks, lifting a hand to touch my forehead.

"Yes," I say with a small nod.

Esme eyes me. "Darling, don't think me too out of line, but might I suggest that you have Carlisle examine you?"

I look at her. "Examine me?"

Esme gives me a small smile. "He will be able to tell you if you are pregnant or not, and if you are, Mrs. Kaur and I have a host of remedies for you."

I let out a long breath. There it is, the topic that has plagued my mind but I have not been able to acknowledge out loud.

What if I could know definitively?

"Okay," I say, nodding once. "Thank you."

Esme smiles and gently rubs the top of my hand with her fingers.

"Darling, you are family. And we take care of our family."

I smile back at her, and she squeezes my hand before letting me go and finishing with the vegetables.

"A baby," Esme says after a moment, her voice dreamy. Mrs. Kaur turns to grin at her.

From what I have seen around the house, Esme and Carlisle don't have children of their own. I wonder why, for it seems both are natural caregivers. But, I know it can be a touchy subject, one I'm not sure I should broach with Esme. Are we close enough for her to confide in me? I don't know.

Instead of asking, I keep my mouth shut, reaching for another knife to help Esme with the last of the vegetables.

Once we have the soup going, Mrs. Kaur brings a large bowl of dough to the table for us to knead in small chunks.

This is now a familiar practice for me, and I take my portion confidently.

"So Bella," Esme says as she kneads her own bread. "I hear tomorrow is your birthday."

I look up at her in surprise, and Mrs. Kaur sends me an annoyed but simultaneously bemused smile.

"Yes," I say slowly, wondering how they have learned this. "Yes it is."

Esme grins. "What would you think of a party? Nothing too grand, just a few friends and neighbors to really introduce you to people." She pauses, tilting her head. "I imagine it would help you to have some friends your own age rather than spending all your time with us stuffy old people."

Esme is forty-five, though she has the youth of someone who looks like they are in their early twenties, and Mrs. Kaur is even younger than her.

"Neither of you are old," I object quietly. "And I rather like spending my time with you."

Both women give me kind smiles in response.

"Nevertheless, it is only proper that we introduce you to our friends and neighbors. What do you say, Bella?"

The thought of a party thrown in my honor is not something I'm exactly comfortable with, but I will admit the idea of knowing more people, of growing more roots, is appealing.

"All right," I agree. "Thank you."

Both Esme and Mrs. Kaur look delighted by my acquiescence.

When we finish the work, I excuse myself to take a nap. I chalk most of my lingering exhaustion up to the altitude of the village, though I know that if I am pregnant, that certainly could play a part in it.

Edward and I have been given a very cozy bedroom. It is roomy enough for a double bed and a wardrobe, with a balcony that provides stunning views of the mountains.

Most afternoons, if it is not yet too cold, I open the balcony doors, just to watch the mountains before I fall asleep.

Today, despite the chill I am fighting, I open them, breathing in the crisp mountain air, before I turn and crawl under our blankets. I'm still dressed in my corset and skirts, but I can't be bothered to disrobe.

I position myself on the bed so that my eyes sweep the mountainside. Of all the places I'd ever been, of all the lives I could have lived, it is strange to think that this has been my fate.

If I am in fact pregnant, I'm going to have to tell Edward the destiny of our child. My hand comes to rub over my stomach, though I cannot feel it under the layers of clothes and corset. Have I been cruel in keeping this from him? What if it is a price that he is unwilling to pay, giving up our first born at only thirteen?

My heart aches with worry and sadness, and I shut my eyes, willing to block it all out, to push it away from my mind, at least for a little bit longer.

…

"Okay, Bella," Carlisle says, his voice gentle. "I need you to lie back and prop your feet up please."

I nod, licking my lips as I lean back on the bed. My feet find purchase on the end of the bed, and I take a deep breath. Beside me, Edward gently reaches for my hand, and I look at him, offering him a small smile.

"I'm going to insert the speculum," Carlisle says. "It might be a bit cold. I'm sorry."

I nod, and despite his warning, I flinch when the cold metal comes in contact with my skin. It is strange to have him down there, though I know I have to get over it. Pregnancy is not a time for modesty.

The speculum is cold and hard, and I wince as Carlisle starts to expand it. It is uncomfortable, though not quite into painful territory, yet.

"Okay," Carlisle says softly. "Bella, are you comfortable with me showing Edward what I am doing?"

I look up at my husband, who is looking at his uncle with interest.

I nod. "Go look," I tell him, letting go of his hand.

Edward stands and moves around to the end of the bed. I see his eyes widen, and his eyes flicker up to me before dropping back down.

"Now," Carlisle says, his voice becoming teacherly. "This speculum is showing us inside the vagina to the cervix," he explains. "Do you see that it is bluish in hue?" When Edward nods, Carlisle smiles. "That is because your wife is indeed with child."

Edward's eyes go wide, and I find myself starting to sit up, as if I can see for myself. "Easy," Carlisle says with a gentle laugh. "Lie back, Bella. It will only hurt you to sit now."

I do as he says, though my mind is racing. Pregnant. I'm pregnant.

Edward and Carlisle are speaking, possibly about my genitalia, but I can't hear them.

I'm pregnant.

It's final. I will never travel through time again.

Unexpectedly, tears well in my eyes. Are they happy or sad? I do not know, and I reach up to brush them away.

But the quicker I chase them off, the faster they begin to fall until I fear that a sob will come out of me.

Blessedly, I can feel Carlisle removing the speculum, and when he is done, I close my legs and turn on my side, trying to catch my breath.

"Bella?"

Edward's hand lands on my back and I flinch in surprise. "Love, what is the matter?"

He settles on the edge of the bed beside me, and I'm momentarily distracted by the sound of Carlisle quietly leaving our room.

I have to tell Edward. I cannot bear to keep this from him, not now that I know.

I twist on the bed to look at him. He seems concerned, and I reach out to him, taking his fingers between mine. "I have to tell you something," I rasp. "But I am afraid."

Edward's brows furrow. "You can tell me anything. I'm your husband."

I press a kiss to his knuckles and nod, my eyes fluttering shut. How do I even start this?

"Is it about the baby?" Edward asks, sounding suddenly worried.

I open my eyes and let out a breath. "Yes, and no." When he looks more confused, I sit up, frustrated at the tight restrictions of the corset I'm still laced into. "Edward, I want to tell you about the place I was born."

Edward nods, and I fold my legs beneath me. I cannot stand to be in this corset a moment longer, so I begin unfastening my blouse as I speak.

"I was born in Nouveau Stockholm, in the United Republic of Nye Europa," I start, pulling off my top.

"I'm unfamiliar with where that is."

I let out a breath. "You might know it now as a place called Hamburg."

Edward frowns. "Hamburg?" he asks. "I thought you were French."

I smile as I start working the lacing of my corset. "I am, sort of," I agree. "In the year 2189, there is a terrible war that rips apart several European countries. In the wake of the devastation, a new united republic is formed called Nye Europa. Hamburg becomes Nouveau Stockholm."

I watch Edward's face as he processes my words. I finally get the corset off and toss it across the room, sighing with relief when I am in nothing but my undergarments.

"Wait," Edward says, shaking his head. "You speak of the future as if it has already happened," he says, sounding frustrated.

"It has already happened," I say, taking his hand again. The fact that he doesn't push me off is promising. "It is my past, my history," I explain. When he looks lost, I let out a breath. "I was born in the year 2,343."

Edward shakes his head. "Bella, you are speaking madness. This is not possible."

I let out a breath. "I know that it's hard to understand," I say, my voice trying to stay patient and calm. "Sometimes, I feel as if I myself don't understand it, and I have lived it."

Edward stands, and I let his hand fall from mine as he paces the length of the bed. "Bella, what you are telling me is impossible," he says, shaking his head. "We are born and time progresses. What is past is gone and what is future has not yet happened."

I sigh. "It seems like that," I agreed. "But in truth, the world is much more complicated than that." I shake my head, feeling frustrated that I can't better explain it. "The women in my family walk through time," I say slowly. "It has been this way for as long as anyone has known."

Edward stops pacing to stare at me. "Bella, Love, I want to believe you," he says, shaking his head.

I let out a breath. "I understand that you cannot," I tell him. "I could tell you the fate of the world, but it would take time for it to come to pass and prove me right."

Edward gazes at me warily. "Tell me one thing. One thing in my lifetime that shall happen."

I open my mouth then shut it again. There are so many wonderful and terrible things that Edward could witness. "I don't know," I say, shaking my head. "There is so much the world will know. War, death, life, creative genius and innovation, unbearable loss and pain… The world is ripe for growth and change."

Edward stops pacing and steps in front of me. "One thing, Bella. Just one."

I sigh. "Next year, a man named Herbert George Wells will publish a book called TheWar of the Worlds. It will be a story about a war between humanity and an invading alien race from the planet Mars. His book will be mostly fiction, though it will later be proven that some of his mad genius was actually quite accurate."

Edward looks baffled by this, and I reach out, pressing my hand to his cheek. "I know it is difficult, but please try to believe me. I do not tell you this about me to hurt you."

Edward lets out a long breath and collapses onto the bed again beside me. "Why do you tell me this?"

I wince. "Do you recall what I told you the night we eloped?" I ask, my hand rubbing against his cheek.

"That the only way for you to stay with me was to become pregnant," he recalls, his brows furrowing.

I nod. "For as long as my family can recall, the first born daughter has been a time traveler. The first time we travel is the night we turn thirteen." I take a deep breath. "We cannot control where we go, nor can we control how long we are there. We travel in our sleep, and when we wake up, we may be in a gleaming city or a wild jungle."

"Wait," Edward says, shaking his head. "So you have no say in which part of history you might experience next?"

I shake my head. "None."

"But this is madness," Edward protests. "How is this a gift if you cannot control it?"

I give him a sad smile. "The only way to stop traveling is to become pregnant," I tell him, pressing my hand to my belly. "Now that I am with child, one of my cousins will begin to travel, leapfrogging through time and space."

"Will she return to her own home?"

I shake my head. "Not to my knowledge." I suck in a breath. "We can never go back. That is one of time's three rules."

Edward frowned. "What are the rules?"

I lift my fingers in front of him. "One, there must always be a traveler. Two, you never know where or when you will go, nor how long you have there. Three, once you leave, you can never go back."

Edward's face shows an array of thoughts and emotions as he processes my words. Finally he blinks, focusing on me. "So you have not seen your family since you were thirteen?"

I shake my head. "No. I have been on my own since."

Edward pulls me into his arms, surprising me. "Oh, Love," he murmurs against my hair. "What curse this is for you to bear."

My eyes fill with tears. "Edward," I say, wishing I didn't have to bring up the rest of it. "The first born in my family are always daughters. Once our daughter is thirteen, she will travel too."

Edward lets me go, his eyes wide and horrified. "What?"

My eyes fill with tears again. "I'm so sorry," I sob. "Edward, it is such a wonderful and terrible gift. I have seen things that most people could never even dream of. I know the world, know its story better than almost anyone. But I have had to learn it at the expense of my own family and loved ones, and our child will have to pay the same price with her own freedom."

Edward is staring at me in horror, though I can hardly see him through my tears.

Silently, he stands and strides to the balcony doors. I can tell from the rigidity of his back that he is tense, struggling to deal with the burden I have just set upon him.

I hunch over, my hands wrapping around my stomach, and think of my maman. How did she do it? How had she given me up? My child is not yet born, and already I feel as if it will rip the very soul from my body to lose her.

"You should have told me all of this before we eloped," Edward says, his voice hard.

I stare at him through my tears. "How could I?"

Edward turns to me, and I am shocked by the fury in his gaze. "You should have told me!" he screams.

I flinch from his anger, and he lets out a heated breath, grabbing his coat from where it has been gently laid at the end of the bed.

Without another word, he storms out of our room, the door slamming behind him.

I cannot hold back my sobs any longer. I double over the bed and weep, wishing with all that I am that there was some way, any way, to break this curse on my bloodline.