Thank you to Mel and Pamela!

XXVI

BELLA

November 20, 1897

Calcutta, India

I've grown accustomed to the quiet of our mountain village. Calcutta is bustling by comparison and louder than I would have thought.

I toss and turn on the unfamiliar bed, longing for something more comfortable. What I wouldn't give for memory foam.

I lie on my back, my husband asleep beside me, his hand outstretched in my direction, as if subconsciously trying to hold onto me. I haven't meant to be distant from him lately, but I've found my mind more and more distracted by my ever-present worries imagining our immediate future.

What if we don't find anything, and this has all been a wild goose chase?

What if we do?

Between the noise in my mind and the noise in the streets, it feels as if I'll never sleep again.

But eventually, even I can't chase away the exhaustion, and I fall into a fitful slumber sometime late into the night.

Only a few hours later, I'm waking again, my eyes burning and raw as I blink against the bright morning light.

"Love," Edward whispers, leaning over and pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Cover up."

I look at him in confusion, even as he pulls the blanket over my body. A moment later, I realize someone is knocking on our door when Edward stands and wraps his robe around himself. He opens the door, his body blocking our visitor from view as I yank the blanket up over more of myself.

Edward steps aside, and a young maid enters the room, her eyes downcast as she brings in a breakfast tray.

When we'd first discussed moving down to Calcutta, Carlisle had immediately gotten to work, writing to their friends in Calcutta until one of them offered up apartments near the city center. The accommodations were modest but clean, and compared to some of the poverty viewable in other parts of the city, were certainly luxuries that not many could afford.

Their owners—a woman named Katherine and her husband Garrett—had gone to Bombay for the winter, leaving the apartments vacant and free for us to use.

It has been a stroke of luck I am grateful for.

The maid—a young woman named Tithi—is a local girl who Katherine had hired to caretake for the property while they were gone.

Tithi places the silver tray on a small table by the windows, her head bowed. "Do you need anything else, this morning?" she asks, her English heavily accented but clear.

"No, thank you, Tithi," Edward says.

She dips a small bow and scurries out of the room. Edward turns to the tray, examining it thoughtfully.

"It smells good," I offer, even though my stomach roils at the thought of eating. I haven't gotten enough sleep. Maybe food will sound better after a few more hours.

"It does," Edward agrees, plucking a slice of mango from the tray. He slides it between his lips, humming appreciatively.

I flop back on the bed, letting out a sigh. "Eat," I tell him. "I'm going to get more sleep."

"Are you well?" Edward asks, his voice sounding alarmed.

I nod and yawn. "I'm just tired. I didn't fall asleep until very late last night."

His face appears above mine and I smile, reaching up to rub my fingers lightly over his stubbled cheek. "I'm well," I promise him. "Just another hour or so of sleep and I'll be right as rain."

Edward frowns, and I am not sure if it is because he is unfamiliar with the saying or he doesn't believe me.

After a moment, he sighs. "Sleep," he says, leaning down and pressing a kiss on my forehead. "Take all the time you need."

…

When I wake again, I feel much better. Edward isn't in the room, but he's left food on the tray for me. I rise, and after relieving myself in the—thankfully—plumbed bathroom, I sit down to eat. The fruit is sweet and ripe, even though we are nearing winter, and the cream is thick and fresh.

When I've had my fill, I wrap my robe around myself before making my way out of our room.

I find Edward and Esme in the parlor, a tray of tea settled on the table between them.

"Good morning," I say, then eye the light in the windows. "Er, afternoon?" I guess.

"Good morning, darling," Edward says, hopping to his feet. "How did you sleep?" He presses a sweet kiss to my cheek.

"Well," I tell him honestly.

Edward looks relieved. "Come take a seat," he said, motioning me to his vacated chair. "We were just discussing a strategy."

I settle in his chair and look at Esme, who offers me a warm smile.

"An old colleague of Carlisle's has invited us to his home this evening," Esme tells me. "He's retired from medicine, but I'm told he's developed an interest in local history."

I nod. "He sounds as good a place as any to start."

Esme smiles at me. "I thought so too. His name is Dr. Robert Banner."

I look at Edward and I'm relieved to see he seems optimistic about this meeting. He smiles at me, his hand reaching out to gently take my own, and I turn back to Esme. "What time can we leave?"

…

It has been ages since I've put on a proper corset. The garment is tight, though not so tight as to hurt the baby. I am more restricted than I can remember being before, but I can suck it up for one night at least.

Dr. Banner lives east of our apartments, in a large estate that might best be described as a palace. It is constructed of white marble and glows brightly against the green landscape that surrounds the dwelling. It is in stark contrast to the slums we rode through to get here.

A butler greets us as we arrive and brings us to a parlor where a portly old man is standing by a large hearth. He is round, his white hair bright against his tan skin, and when he looks up at us and smiles, about a hundred lines crinkle around his eyes and mouth.

"Esme," he calls, his voice cheerful as he makes his way swiftly across the room.

"It is good to see you, Robert," Esme says, allowing the man to take her hand and press a kiss to it.

"When I got your letter … well, I was delighted!" he says, chuckling. "Though, I was disappointed my old rival would not be joining us." His smile tells me that rival is more of a joke between him and Carlisle than any serious ill feelings.

He turns toward us before Esme can speak. "You must be Edward," Dr. Banner says, reaching out to shake Edward's hand. "Blimey, you look like your father."

I see my husband fight off his flinch of surprise. "Thank you for having us, sir. This is my wife," Edward says, motioning toward me.

"Ah yes, the young Mrs. Cullen," Dr. Banner says, dropping Edward's hand and reaching for mine. He presses a kiss to the back of my hand and his whiskers tickle against my skin. "The Cullen men have the most outstanding luck in finding the most beautiful of brides," he says, winking at me. It is a friendly look, not an uncomfortable one, so I find myself smiling back at him.

"Let's get you all drinks," he says with a clap of his hands. "And come in, please! Take seats and make yourself at home."

We settle on couches around his parlor while he tends the bar cart, mixing Edward and Esme drinks. When I decline and ask for water, he gives me a knowing smile and brings me a glass with a thin slice of ginger and mint. It is refreshing and delicious.

"So," Dr. Banner says as he takes a seat once we all have been served. "Esme tells me you are looking for something." His bright eyes focus on me.

Though he is still cheerful and smiling, there is an intensity in his gaze that I recognize. Here is the scholar.

"Yes," Edward says slowly, his eyes darting toward me briefly. "We seek the story about a tiger."

Dr. Banner frowns, leaning back in his chair. "The relationship between India and her tigers dates back thousands of years," he says. "It would be easier to find a needle amongst a haystack."

I lick my lips. "This one sheds ruby tears," I supply.

Dr. Banner looks surprised. "That is much more specific," he finally agrees. "I have heard one tale, perhaps it will be of use to you." He stands and strides across the room to his wall of books. His eyes scan the spines as he continues.

"There was once an Indian prince who fell in love with the goddess Durga," he muses. "Ah-ha!" he exclaims, yanking a book off the shelf. It is a slim volume, bound in blue, and he turns toward me, cracking the book open. "There is a great deal of trial and sacrifice," he says, skimming the pages. "But in the end, the young prince Arjun is turned into a tiger who sheds tears of red whenever he remembers his forbidden love for the great goddess." He pauses on an open page, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks over the passage.

"And so," he begins reading, tapping the page once with his finger. "It was that the prince fled into the jungle, his animal form cursing him to be hunted by the greed held within men's hearts. There he lived, weeping tears of ruby whenever he thought of the great goddess.

"One day, taking pity on him, the goddess visited the tiger and bestowed upon him a blessing for his loyal and steadfast devotion. That his grief should ease the suffering of others. She shrouded him in mist and declared that only those who were worthy would find him."

He snaps the book shut, looking up at us. "Is this along the lines of what you are seeking?"

I glance at Edward, who looks just as stunned as I feel. "Yes," I croak, turning back to Dr. Banner. "I believe it is."

He smiles, holding out the book in offering to me. "Then, my dear, please take this until your quest is complete."

I take the thin volume, my fingers shaking. "Thank you," I tell him. "Truly, you don't know what this means to us."

Dr. Banner shakes his head. "Nonsense." He chuckles. "I am happy to be of actual help these days."

A servant enters the room then, announcing dinner is ready. I carefully tuck the book into a bag I slip into my skirts before standing and allowing Edward to escort me to the dining room. He takes my hand gently in his as we walk, and I look up when his fingers squeeze my own.

"One step closer," he whispers to me.

"One step closer," I agree.