Good Morning, Lovelies!
Thank you so much to Mel and Pamela!
XX
EDWARD
13 September 1897
Darjeeling, India
The morning dawns heavy with fog and chill in the air. It feels like an omen, a bleak outlook to match my frayed mind.
Never in my life have I felt so exhausted.
I could not bear to unleash any more of my anger on Bella last night, though I could not stand the thought of leaving her either. Instead, I found myself in my uncle's study, steadily drinking down one of his best bottles of gin.
I slept fitfully on a settee, my mind and dreams fixed on my wife and the news she has just shared with me.
As impossible as I know it is, some part of me believes Bella. She is not like any of the women I have known, and being born and raised in another place—and perhaps even another time—would certainly account for that. It is unfathomable, but in my heart, I know she is not lying to me.
But our daughter…
My heart cracks every time I think of my unborn child being ripped from us, never to be seen again again. That she would live with us for thirteen years then be doomed to become a ghost in our memories… I cannot accept it.
I feel in myself a deep, unrelenting need to protect my family, but how can I save them from this?
My head is throbbing as I sit up on the settee, my eyes trained on the foggy window. The mountain should be viewable from this room, but I can't see it.
There are footsteps outside the study, and I look up as my uncle opens the door. He appears surprised to see me, but then his eyes dart to the empty bottle on the table beside me, and I see his lips purse.
"Everything all right?" he asks gently.
"I'm sorry, Uncle," I say, trying to fully right myself and plant my feet on the floor once more. "I'll replace your gin."
Carlisle comes in and sits in a leather chair across from me, his blue eyes deeply filled with compassion and patience.
"What's happened?"
I shut my eyes. Bella has not asked me to keep her history a secret, though instinctively I know that is her wish. While some part of me desires to confide in my uncle, a greater part of me refuses to abuse Bella's trust like that.
"Bella and I had an argument," I say instead, rubbing one hand against my eyes.
"About the baby?"
I look at my uncle. "Yes and no," I say vaguely.
Carlisle reads my reluctance to reveal the whole story and nods. "Did she ask you to leave your room?"
I wince and shake my head. "No."
"I see," Carlisle says. I look at him as he takes a breath. "Edward, I'm going to be frank with you." I look up at him warily. "The men in our family have a very particular lot in life," he begins. "We all fall in love with extraordinary women." When I frown, Carlisle smiles. "Yes, even your father. Do you know how accomplished your mother was before she had children? The height of the social scene, a talented equestrian, and quite a brilliant political strategist. Your mother was courted by some of the greatest men of our time."
I am deeply surprised to hear this about my mother, a woman whom I only know to be vain and shallow.
"Your father nearly went mad chasing her. But in the end, he won her over." Carlisle smiles. "Made a damn fool of himself in the process." He chuckles, and I feel a smile tug at my lips. "But just like our father, and our father's father, he had found a woman, an extraordinary woman."
"What happened between them?" I ask, wondering where the people my uncle is describing have gone.
"That's the second piece of it," he says, wincing. "Edward met Elizabeth at the wrong time. He wasn't secure enough in himself, and his jealousy drove him mad. He broke your mother down, wound his will so tight around her that she forgot the person she was and became a perpetual problem for Edward to correct. Their marriage has suffered for it, certainly."
I frown, recognizing this side of my parents much more clearly. "What are you trying to tell me?" I ask, attempting to concentrate beyond the dull ache in the back of my skull where my head is pounding.
Carlisle sighs. "Bella is an extraordinary woman," he says with a smile. "And whether you've met her at the right time or not is irrelevant now, because it has happened." His eyes cut to the gin bottle. "But it is now your task to rise to the occasion of being worthy of her."
I scowl. "I am worthy," I retort, offended.
Carlisle lets out a breath. "Edward, you are still but a boy. A young man in body, certainly, but it is clear that Bella has seen the world. She has wisdom far beyond her years, and that will require you to make harder choices."
"Such as?"
Carlisle motions to the gin bottle. "Your father turns to Pimms still, doesn't he? When he wants to avoid talking with your mother?"
I flinch. He does indeed do that, and I, having not realized it, have followed in his footsteps.
I feel sick at the realization of the comparison.
"They both drink," I mutter.
"They have both given up," he agrees. "That too, runs in our family."
I eye the bottle and suddenly feel sick at the thought of drinking. I never want to be like my father.
"Were you ready when you met Esme?"
Carlisle lets out a laugh as I look at him. "Heavens, no." He chuckles. "I was an absolute idiot." I'm shocked by his candor, and can't help but smile along with him. "But Esme was patient, and I loved her too much to ruin anything with her." He lets out a breath. "It's why we left London and came here. I'm a better person away from what I knew. Here, I grew to be a man worthy of the woman I love."
I sit back and think on that. Am I worthy of Bella? Certainly, I feel so at times, but other times, like now, I feel lower than the dirt beneath her shoes.
"I don't know what your argument was about," Carlisle continues, drawing my gaze to him. "But you have a choice," he says gently. "You can work things out with her and build a foundation in your relationship that will be stronger, or you can bury your head in the sand and lose her."
I swallow hard. "But, she was in the wrong," I start.
"It doesn't matter," Carlisle says, shaking his head. "Your heart must be wise enough to see past your feelings in order to work out a resolution between the two of you."
I let out a long breath. The truth of it is that I do feel bad for walking away last night. Even though I understand why Bella couldn't tell me her secret when we first eloped, my heart is still trying to wrestle with the betrayal I feel.
Carlisle must see my struggle on my face because he smiles and stands. "I have something for you."
He moves to his desk and pulls open a drawer, producing a small box. "Esme had this fixed when you first sent us word." He moves in front of me and holds the box out. I take it gently and lift the lid. Inside is a stunning engagement ring that I vaguely recognize from a painting of my great-grandmother. Staring down at it, I realize that I never gave Bella any ring at all beyond my signet.
"It was Grandmother Cullen's ring," Carlisle says, drawing my gaze up to him. "She passed it to me to pass on to my own son when the time came."
I swallow hard, tears suddenly forming in my eyes. Carlisle and Esme have never had children, though I have never asked them why. It seemed to be too sensitive a subject to broach with either of them.
For him to pass this ring to me means so much. "Thank you," I croak, standing to wrap my arms around him. If he is surprised by the hug, it doesn't show as he embraces me, clapping my back gently.
"You've done well," Carlisle says softly in my ear. "Now you get to grow into the man worthy of the path ahead of you."
I pull away from him and look down at the ring. I need to make things right with Bella. Carlisle has spoken wisdom and truth. I need to be worthy of her and the future we have together.
…
BELLA
…
I wake with an ache deep in my chest.
Edward never came back to bed last night, and I was too exhausted and miserable to seek him out. Our first marital fight, and I fear it is one we won't be able to get past.
I crawl out of bed, somehow more exhausted than I was before I slept, and pull a dressing gown around my body. Stepping out to the balcony, I shiver in the morning mountain mist.
Edward might hate me now that I have revealed the truth of myself to him. My hand slides down to my belly, and my eyes squeeze shut.
I would do anything to shield my child from this fate.
It's times like this, more than anything, I wish I could talk to my maman, seek out her guidance and wisdom. How did she break the news to my pappa? How had they overcome it in their marriage?
Time sits as a chasm between my loved ones and me, isolating me from them all.
I hear movement in the garden below, and I glance down to see Carlisle heading out for the morning, his doctor's bag at his side.
I frown when I don't see Edward joining him.
Where is my husband?
I am about to turn and dress so I can finally search for him, when I hear the bedroom door creak open.
I twist around, and there is Edward, looking haggard and just as exhausted as I feel.
He is standing at the door, his hand still on the handle as he gazes at me across the room. I cannot gauge from his expression how he feels about me. Almost instantly, my eyes begin to fill with tears.
"Edward," I croak, my voice breaking as the tears rush at me harder. I don't want to cry, I don't want him to feel like I am manipulating him, but I can't keep them back.
Edward leaves the doorway, allowing the door to close as he strides toward me. I still cannot read his expression, though there is an intensity on his face that feels alarming.
What is he going to do?
Before I can even open my mouth again, he is standing right before me, his hands reaching up to hold my face between his palms. I still, my eyes going wide as I gaze up at him.
"This curse," he rasps, his voice thick with exhaustion. "This is not something that you have brought to our family. This is something that has been done to you."
Tears well up again, spilling over as I blink rapidly to expel them. I've never thought of this curse as something done to me. I've always thought of it as a fault within me, some defect of my bloodline.
"Endless generations have suffered," he continues. "But no more. Bella, we will find a way to end this curse."
"But what if it can't be ended?" I ask, my despair overwhelming as every emotion I had last night comes racing back tenfold. "What if this curse is unbreakable?"
Edward shuts his eyes, pained. He takes a breath before he slowly opens his eyes again and focuses on me. "Then we will prepare our daughter so that she will be strong enough to endure."
Tears are streaming down my face, and I gasp softly, trying to catch my breath. Edward's thumbs brush at my cheeks, coming away wet, and he tilts his head down so our foreheads are pressed together.
My fingers, which have been curled around my dressing gown in an effort to give him space, slowly uncurl and reach for him.
His body steps closer to me as my hands slide around his back and fist his shirt until we are finally locked in an embrace.
He lets my cheeks go and winds his arms around me, and I sob against his chest, relief, pain, fear, hope, all colliding in me like a hurricane.
"Bella," Edward rasps against my hair. "I would not change the course of my life, even knowing what I know now."
I jerk back a bit, gazing up at him in shock. "What?"
One of his hands comes back up, stroking my cheek. "If curses are real, then so too must be destiny, for I feel it when I gaze at you." He offers me a small smile, and I see that he also has tears on his cheeks. "Of all the time and all the world, you have landed here, with me." He shakes his head. "What more proof do I need?"
I lick my lips and sniff. "I feel it too," I murmur.
Edward takes a deep breath, as if I have relieved him of some burden. Then, gloriously, he is bending down, his lips capturing mine. His kiss is tender, aching but filled with something so profound, my eyes begin to water again.
I know from his kiss, the words neither of us have spoken yet.
When we pull apart, Edward gives me a gentle smile. "I have something for you," he says softly.
"What?" I ask, surprised.
Edward grins and reaches into his pocket, pulling back from me slightly until my arms fall away from him.
He produces a wooden box, small in the palm of his hand, and looks at me under his lashes as he pulls open the lid. "Happy Birthday, Bella."
I gasp when I see the ring inside. It is a stunning marquise shaped ring, with a large fiery opal in the center and small diamonds around the perimeter. I look up at Edward, shaking my head.
"Edward, it's too much," I protest.
"Nonsense," he says gently, removing it from the box and taking my hand in his. "I realize that it is customary to produce a ring upon the beginning of an engagement, but given our circumstances, I figured it was better late than never."
He gently slides the ring onto my finger, where I am absolutely dazzled by the brilliant shine of it. "It was my great-grandmother's," Edward says softly.
I look up at him in surprise. "What?"
He gives me a little smile. "Esme had it redone to reflect the latest styles while we were voyaging here, but this ring has been in my family for generations." Edward's gaze meets mine. "My great-grandmother used to say this ring carried luck with it. Who knows, maybe it is enough to break the curse over you."
My eyes well again, moved by his patience and kindness. I reach up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, and I feel his arms circle around me once more.
"Thank you," I whisper, breaking apart from him. "Thank you."
Edward's smile is soft and tender. He presses his lips to my forehead, and I curl against his chest, bringing up my new bejeweled finger to gaze at the ring.
Let this be the luck I need.
