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Chapter 11
Seriously Ill
Bella
When I awoke, it was still dark.
"James," I whispered.
My throat hurt when I did this.
"Your Highness," he said, and immediately came to me.
"I don't feel well," I said.
He took my hand.
"You're all hot, my Princess, you've got a cold after all," he said anxiously.
"Can I have some water, please?", I asked.
"Of course ... right away, Your Highness," he said, getting me a glass of water.
I drank a little and James put the glass on the nightstand.
"I'm so cold," I said.
James got another blanket and put it over me.
"I must inform my Master, my Princess," he said.
I had expected that.
I nodded.
James went next door.
Five seconds later Edward knelt in front of me and held my hand.
"She's glowing," he noted. "Hello, my Princess, how are you feeling?" he asked me gently.
"I'm cold, I have a sore throat, and I feel weak," I breathed.
He nodded worriedly.
"I'm calling my father!" he said.
"You don't have to," I said.
"Oh yes, I do!" he said, already holding the phone. "Dad, it's Edward. My Princess got caught in the rain yesterday with James. Now she's glowing, cold and has a sore throat!" he said into the phone. "Okay. Thanks, Dad!" he then said and hung up. "My dad will come check on you. Please don't be scared. He's really sweet," he said to me.
I kept silent.
Edward remained crouched there and looked at me.
His look was full of concern. He looked so good and - damn it - I liked him. But why? A week ago I would have said that I would kill such a man - or at least despise him - after a rape. And now? Now I was lying here wishing he hadn't let go of my hand. How stupid can a woman actually be?
I dozed off and froze, despite the many blankets.
After a while there was a knock and James opened immediately.
A tall, handsome man, mid-thirties, blond hair, entered. So this was Edward's father, the King and Esmé's husband. He looked damn good and he radiated kindness and warmth. I liked him immediately.
"Please let me have a go at her, son," he said with a smile to Edward, who quickly rose and walked away a bit to make room for his father. "Hello, little one, I'm Carlisle and your name is Isabella?" he asked.
"Yes," I breathed.
"Unfortunately, my wayward son hasn't introduced you to me yet. It's a shame that it's happening this way," he said with a smile. "So, you got wet in the rain yesterday?" he then asked.
"Yes," I said.
"And now you're warm?" he asked.
"No, terribly cold and I have a sore throat and a bit of a headache," I said.
He put his hand on my forehead.
His hands were cold.
I shuddered.
He took a wooden stick from the doctor's bag he had brought with him and asked me to open my mouth.
"Oh yeah, that's pretty red," he said.
He looked into my ears, listened to my chest. Thoroughly, from the front and back. I barely had the strength to turn around.
Then he turned to Edward and James.
"She has a thick cold. I'll leave medicine here. She will get chills. If she sweats, it makes the most sense to cool her with your body. Please put dry clothes on her in between. If she is cold, cover her well. Do not leave her alone. I am afraid that she will fall over. She is far too thin and is certainly weakened now. She needs to drink a lot. Water, tea, vegetable broth is good. If she wants to eat, then things that slip easily down her throat. Bananas, yogurt, potatoes or something."
The two nodded.
Carlisle turned to me again and eyed me lovingly. He stroked my cheek and held my hand.
I instantly felt a little better.
"My son is terribly stupid sometimes, Isabella. I have spoken to him about it. He deeply regrets it. Please, give him a chance. I'm sure he'll behave himself from now on. If he doesn't, just come to me and I'll throw him out of the palace myself. I want you to feel comfortable here, Isabella."
I looked at him in amazement.
"My wife told me how you are and she likes you a lot. Rose also likes you. We like having you here and I want you to feel free here, not locked up. Just come to me if you need anything, will you?" he asked gently.
I nodded.
"Thank you, sir."
"Call me Carlisle, please," he said with a smile.
He looked at my book and at the one borrowed from Edward.
"Ah ... Jane Eyre and Tess," he said. "Pretty dry, isn't it?"
I smiled.
"Sometimes it does. But for me, rather very touching and very appealing from a literary point of view."
"That's true. But you have to really enjoy reading to be able to keep up with the writing style, don't you?" he asked.
I nodded.
"And who is that?" he asked, pointing to Mr. Darcy.
"This is Mr. Darcy," I said, blushing slightly.
Carlisle laughed in amusement, looking even prettier.
"But Mr. Darcy is rather conceited, isn't he?" he then asked.
"Only at the beginning of the story, at the end I find him extremely endearing," I said.
"He bears a resemblance to my son. He thinks he can get anything he wants ... especially any woman. And then when he gets turned down by one, he's shocked and acts stupid. After that, he starts thinking and he gets better," Carlisle said.
"That's right," I said quietly.
I had not yet looked at it from that point of view.
"But Elizabeth is giving Mr. Darcy a chance too," Carlisle said with a smile.
Uh-huh... that's the way the cookie crumbles.
"But Mr. Darcy only violated Elizabeth's honor, not her dignity," I said, and Edward winced ashamedly.
"That's right," said Carlisle. "So he must be going to great lengths to make up for it, right?" he asked.
"That's right, but he's already started," I said, winking at him.
Carlisle smiled at me.
"You have a big heart," he then said.
"You too, I guess," I replied.
"But so does he. He just has difficulty showing it sometimes," he whispered.
I nodded.
"I'm leaving now. James will give you the medicine. I'll tell him how and when in a minute. I'll check on you again this evening, is that okay?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you, Carlisle, that's sweet," I said.
He stroked over my hand one more time and then went to James and put the medication down for him and gave instructions.
Edward came to me.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Isabella?" he asked.
He looked so worried.
"No, but sweet of you to ask," I said.
"I'm afraid I have to go to the office right away because I have client appointments this morning. But this afternoon I'll take some time off and keep you company ... if you'd like?" he asked.
"That would be nice," I said, and he beamed.
"Thank you, I look forward to it," he said and left my room.
James brought me the medicine, provided me with drinks, helped me to the bathroom and was just by my side the whole morning.
I felt sick, exhausted and slept a lot. In between, Esmé was there, but I hardly noticed anything of it.
When I woke up at some point, Edward was suddenly sitting on the floor in front of me. He smiled lovingly at me and I smiled back.
"How are you doing in the meantime?" he asked.
"Unchanged, unfortunately," I said.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked tenderly.
"I don't know," I whispered.
"Would you like me to read you something?" he asked.
"Oh yes, a nice idea," I said.
"Any particular request?" he asked.
"Jane Eyre, my favorite parts maybe?", I asked.
He took my book in his hand.
"Where do I find them?" he asked.
"Jane has returned to him. He has since gone blind from a fire. They were able to talk briefly in the evening, but then she went to bed. In the morning he wanders around the living room wondering if he just dreamed she had returned. However, she comes to him in the room. Page 680, about midway through. Jane begins by saying, 'It is a bright, sunny morning ...'"
Edward smiled.
"Why should I read it if you know it by heart?"
"Because I'm sure it's nice to hear it in your wonderful voice," I whispered.
He looked at me and I felt my words touch him.
Then he began:
"It is a bright, sunny morning, sir," I said. "The rain is over and gone, and there is a tender shining after it: you shall have a walk soon."
I had wakened the glow: his features beamed.
"Oh, you are indeed there, my skylark! Come to me. You are not gone: not vanished? I heard one of your kind an hour ago, singing high over the wood: but its song had no music for me, any more than the rising sun had rays. All the melody on earth is concentrated in my Jane's tongue to my ear (I am glad it is not naturally a silent one): all the sunshine I can feel is in her presence."
The water stood in my eyes to hear this avowal of his dependence; just as if a royal eagle, chained to a perch, should be forced to entreat a sparrow to become its purveyor. But I would not be lachrymose: I dashed off the salt drops, and busied myself with preparing breakfast."
"And now, please, page 414, where he confesses his love to her for the first time. He begins with, 'It is your time now, little tyrant'" I said.
Edward looked for the passage and read it aloud:
"It is your time now, little tyrant, but it will be mine presently; and when once I have fairly seized you, to have and to hold, I'll just—figuratively speaking—attach you to a chain like this" (touching his watch-guard). "Yes, bonny wee thing, I'll wear you in my bosom, lest my jewel I should tyne."
"On page 111, that's nice too, at the top, starts with 'Sometimes ...'" I said.
He read:
"Sometimes on a sunny day it began even to be pleasant and genial, and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps."
So I chased him through my favorite book.
"Thank you, that's enough. That was very nice. I am tired," I said quietly.
He rose, went to his room and came back.
"I have an original copy of your favorite book. I'm giving it to you," he said.
"You don't have to, Edward," I said.
"I want to, though. If someone loves a story as much as you do, then no one other than you has the right to own that book. I could never treat it with such dignity and treasure it as you do, Isabella."
Edward put the book on top of my book.
"Thank you," I whispered and fell asleep.