Disclaimer: These characters are the sole
property of Stephenie Meyer. I am just messing around with them.
A/N I don’t have a pre-reader or a Beta or
anything of the sort. All mistakes are mine and mine alone.
-x-X-x-
A Love So Beautiful
Martha’s
Vineyard, United States of America 1894
“Astor is looking at you again,” Peter whispers when he’s standing near
me.
I laugh and roll my eyes at Peter’s comment. He thinks all men are always
looking at me. I find it endearing how overprotective he can be at times.
“He married just three years ago,” I reply sipping from some punch.
“He’s married, not blind. You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, Bella,”
he states.
I blush and look away. Peter has a way with easy flattery, and in spite
of us acting more like brother and sister than anything else, I know there are
some people who speculate about our relationship.
“Miss Wickman is throwing quite the admiring looks your way as well. And
as far as I know she’s unmarried,” I say with a taunting smile.
In recent months, Peter has taken over the control of his many businesses
and cut all ties with women the likes of Mrs Denali. Long forgotten are the
many nights in which he stumbled into his house at odd hours of the day,
completely foxed and dishevelled. His mother is thrilled, and much to my chagrin,
attributes Peter’s change to his friendship with me.
“Drat,” Peter whispers. “I’ve been trying to shake the chit for hours
now. She won’t leave me be!”
I giggle behind my fan. Ever since Peter’s transformation into a gentleman, every matron and debutante in the
East Coast has been sniffing behind him with the ferocity of a hound.
“Laugh all you want Miss Swan, at least I’m not the one being pressured
to choose a husband,” Peter adds in response to my teasing laughter.
I groan as I remember how my mother has been pushing every available
gentleman my way. Which is the reason why I’m currently hiding with Peter near
the refreshments.
“I wish my mother understood that I’m not interested in marriage. She won’t
relent in her matchmaking endeavours. If father doesn’t return from England
soon to distract her I will not be accountable for my actions.”
“Isn’t time though, Bella?” Peter asks me as he looks at me with curious
eyes.
“I’m twenty years old, Peter. I’m not wasting away or shrivelling up due
to old age in the foreseeable future,” I reply, my voice tinged with a hint of
defensiveness. It’s not the first time I’ve been asked this in the last year.
Even Aunt Leah, who is not one to rush these things, has asked me if I do not
think it’s good time I find myself a beau.
“Peter, as you well know one must not rush into new relationships merely
because enough time has elapsed from the previous one. I don’t see you dashing
to secure the hand of any of the many women trailing you.”
“In that regard, you’re correct, my dearest Bella. However, at the very
least I’ve tried. I courted Miss Watson for the whole summer before I decided
she was too dull to keep up with my wittiness,” Peter states with a chuckle. “You
on the other hand, have been chasing away every potential suitor brave enough
to approach the ferocious Lady Swan.”
I roll my eyes at the reference Peter makes of the newest nickname
society has decided to bestow upon me.
Ever since I rebuffed the proposal of a very persistent Neily Vanderbilt, people in the
East Coast circles have been calling me The
Lady Swan behind my back.
Apparently, it’s some type of veiled reference to Mr Tchaikovsky’s ballet
that some of them have been privileged enough to attend while in Russia. Peter
told me that the ballet was about an enchanted princess. She was cursed to
become a swan every night and only the love of a man who could prove himself
faithful to her would break the charm. I fail to see the similarities, but
Peter has commented once that said Princess was remarkably beautiful,
unapproachable and sad, just like I am.
I guess that in many people’s opinion, one had to be under a powerful
spell to reject the likes of Neily Vanderbilt.
“I do not chase them away. I’m the very picture of politeness when they
approach me. I’m too independent, that’s why they don’t persevere in their efforts
long enough for us to form an acquaintance.”
“What about Neily
then?
He was more than perseverant. Yet, you rejected his suit—more than once may I
add,” Peter says with a smug smile plastered on his face.
“Oh, Peter,” I moan. “They are all wrong for me. No matter how hard I try
to like them, they are too stuffy, or too wild, or too philandering, or too—
“Too unlike Edward,” Peter cuts in looking at me with sad eyes.
I look away and sigh. He’s correct, as usual. I’m always comparing the
men who approach me to Edward. I always ask them if they’re musical like Edward
is. I always ask them if they enjoy riding horses like Edward and I do. I
always ask about their tastes in books, theatre, composers, etc. Every single
thing I always relate back to Edward.
It’s not fair to those men, and if I’m entirely honest with myself, not
fair to me either.
Peter has been trying to change his ways. It took him a while but he rid
himself of Mrs Denali—and though he kept a few mistresses through the years—he
has been devoting recent months to searching for a potential bride.
He’s trying, while I’m still flipping through the pages of my story with
Edward.
“Has your friend Alice ever mentioned how he’s faring?” Peter enquires
after a few silent moments.
“I asked her not to. I’m too afraid of the answer,” I whisper.
Before we can continue our conversation I’m interrupted by my mother who
wants to introduce me to yet another suitable gentleman.
-x-X-x-
Life is a curious mistress, capricious, unpredictable, surprising us at
every turn.
When I was sixteen years old I did not expect Edward’s kiss in our
meadow. When I was seventeen, I did not expect a letter from Edward after all
the time we had been apart, and at twenty I did not expect a letter from Alice
informing me she is with child and telling me of her newfound love for her
husband, Jasper.
Dearest Bella,
I feel so selfish writing
this letter. I’m in no position to ask anything of you after all the hurt my
family has caused you. However, if there is a person whom I would love to see
during this happiest of times in my life that person is you.
As you well know throughout
these years I have struggled with my position as Jasper’s wife. In the
beginning, we did not know each other and I was too heartbroken to even
consider Jasper as a man I could ever love. In time though, his gentleness and
patience won my trust, and in the end, my heart.
After we found a balance in
our lives it seemed Mother Nature sensed it was time for us to bring new life
into this world. I’m with child, Bella, and so happy about it.
Jasper wanted me to wait for
a few months to make the announcement, since as you know a baby’s life is so
frail inside his mother’s belly. However, I could not wait to share my happy
news with my dearest and oldest friend.
I know it’s too much of me
to ask, but Jasper tells me your father has been in London in recent months,
and he also tells me that your mother plans to join him. Are you accompanying
her?
I feel as if my mother is
truly looking down at me from heaven, sending me blessings such as my child and
the possibility of seeing you again.
If you do not wish to come
to England or are unable to, I will understand. Jasper tells me we can travel
to America after the child is born.
It has been almost five years
Bella and I miss you. I promise that whenever and in whichever place we meet I
will not mention any part or any person from the past that may have hurt you.
As always, I wish you the
very best, and hope to hear news from you soon.
Your friend,
Alice
-x-X-x-
“So, are you making the crossing with your mother?” Peter asks me when I
inform him of the contents of Alice’s letter.
“I don’t know yet,” I confess. “Aunt Leah feels that it could be in my
benefit to visit the places I link with my deepest sorrows. I know mother would
be ecstatic if I decided to go. She loves England and misses my father dearly. The
only reason she stays in the Vineyard is to be near me. Father’s businesses
keep him away most of the year and I know she feels torn between her love for
father and her concern and love for me.
“But you still have some qualms about making the crossing,” Peter declares.
“I do,” I confirm.
“What are you afraid of?”
“I don’t know—” I start to lie. Peter gives me that look he uses whenever
he feels I’m hiding something and I sigh. It’s so difficult to keep any secrets
from him. He knows me too well.
We are walking through a path of trees in Peter’s estate. Aunt Leah and
Peter’s mother are enjoying some tea at the main house, not far from where we
stand. It’s a lovely—if somewhat stormy day, but I can’t bring myself to enjoy
it when so many doubts are swirling in my mind.
What if I decide to
accompany my mother, and I encounter Edward by accident? What if he’s happy,
like Alice is? What if he became enamoured with his wife with the passing of
time? While I’m still in this limbo between the past and the present. There are
too many what ifs to consider for my liking.
“Bella,” Peter says interrupting my musings and bringing my attention
back to him.
I turn towards him, being careful not to hit him with the umbrella I’m
carrying. It’s sunny, but some clouds in the horizon announce that a storm is
not far from us.
“Yes…” I reply, trying to dodge answering his previous question. He’s
looking at me with intense determination. A look I’ve seldom seen him use. He
usually reserves it for occasions in which he’s about to announce a major
change to his mother or when he’s discussing his businesses with his lawyer.
“Do you still love him?” He asks. A question no one has asked me in so
long it almost feels strange when it slips from Peter’s mouth.
I ponder my reply for a few moments. Smalls little drops start falling
before I can reply, so I open my umbrella and look up at the clouds to assess
how much time we have to run to the house before the storm hits.
Peter turns my head towards him again by placing his index and thumb under
my chin. His fingers linger on my skin and I shiver. The part that scares me is
that I’m not sure whether I’m shivering from the cold wind or the sensation
Peter’s fingers are alighting on my skin.
“Please answer me, Bella,” he beseechs in a warm whisper.
“I’m not certain. Some days I feel as if I do. Some days I feel as if he’s
a ghost that haunts me, chases after me and I can’t escape him. Some days I
feel as if he’s a faraway memory from a life that never existed,” I admit.
“When do you feel as if he had never existed?”
I don’t have to consider the answer for long, it tumbles from my lips
before I can gauge its implications, “When I’m with you.”
Peter nods as if confirming something he long suspected. He squares his
shoulders and takes a deep breath as lightning illuminates the sky above us.
Fat droplets fall from the sky in a choreographed dance of water, light,
and sound. Peter is soaked in minutes, just as he was the day he saved me from
a watery grave.
“Wha—” I start to ask as Peter’s mouth descends on mine, robbing me of my
breath.
I always hated the unpredictable quality of life. The way life seems to
find amusement in toying with me by throwing me into completely unexpected situations.
I’ve almost come to anticipate surprises from life. Sometimes though, life
manages to shock me even further.
-x-X-x-
Helluva time jump… and we are in the
year that’s signalled in chapter 1 as the year Bella marries. Finally…lol
Speaking of chapter 1. Remember my
epic A/N there? This is Bella’s story. Not Edward/Bella, not Peter/Bella. She
will end up with the person she decides to end up with and if you want to know
you’ll have to stay on this ride.
JSYK if this chapter has extra typos
or it’s awful, be nice. This time of year my allergies KILL me. I’ve been
feverish, scratching, sneezing, you name it. I EFFING HATE SPRING… js.
Oh, and have you noticed how New
Moonish this fic is? I just noticed it proof-reading. I swear it wasn’t
intentional as New Moon is my least favourite book in the saga.
BTW the Astor they are talking about
in the beginning is John Jacob Astor IV. You know, the guy who married a very
young woman after his scandalous divorce? The same guy who died on the Titanic?
That Astor :D http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Jacob_Astor_IV
Neily Vanderbilt actually existed. His
full name was Cornelius Vanderbilt III. He was actually an outcast later in
life because he married against his father’s wishes, so I thought him romantic
enough to be persistent and chase after a reluctant Bella. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cornelius_Vanderbilt_III
Okay, epic A/N ends now.
0 comments:
Post a Comment