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
London, England 1894
My lips are still tingling as we ride towards the townhouse. I know that my aunt and Peter are gazing at me worriedly, but I can’t bring myself to reassure them. I can’t lie to them and tell them I’m feeling quite well while my mind is tormented by the memory of a kiss that shouldn’t have been.
Why does he torment me so? Doesn’t he know how frail my resolve is when I’m around him? I wish, not for the first time, that there was a way to block the effect Edward’s presence has on me.
I close my eyes. I’m so easily flustered by his touch, his lips on mine. I completely forgot myself in Lord de Vere's library. I didn’t stop to think of my own reputation, of the consequences my indiscretion could bring to my family, I didn’t think of Peter.
Peter, who deserves more than I can give him, who at the very least deserves my loyalty. I’m so disgusted with myself.
“Bella, darling,” my aunt says in a wary tone. I turn to face her and she studies me carefully. She must sense there’s something wrong with me.
“Yes,” I respond, noticing for the first time that we have stopped.
“We’ve arrived,” she announces with a comforting smile. “Peter asked me if I could give him a few minutes alone with you. I know is not conventional here to leave a girl unchaperoned with a man, but I trust Peter. So I’ll step outside and wait for you in the foyer. It’s that all right with you?”
I look at Peter and note for the first time that he has been much too serious and quiet during our ride. I was so distracted though, I might have missed him announcing he’s to become the next King of England and not have realised it.
I nod and my aunt squeezes my hand before she descends the coach.
Peter and I are alone, and he’s looking at me as if I were some puzzle he needs to decipher.
“What happened at the ball?” he questions without preamble. “You were enjoying yourself and then you disappeared for a few minutes only to return this way.”
“What way?” I ask, trying to gauge how much he has guessed.
“Distracted. Only your body is here, Bella. Your mind is miles away, and you seem preoccupied, troubled. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” I lie. Peter shakes his head and rises only to sit himself next to me. He gathers my gloved hands in his and fixes me with his eyes.
“Please don’t lie to me, Bella. I know something is troubling you. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what it is.”
I want to confide in Peter so badly. He has been my only friend thus far, but I recoil from the idea of hurting him. And deep down I know my words have the power to hurt him. I know he’s hoping that this trip will help erase the memory of Edward from my heart; much like his time in the Vineyard helped him forget about his time with Maria. I don’t believe it will be as simple as that though.
I gulp and reveal as much from my quandary as I can without hurting him.
“Edward and I had some words at the ball.”
Peter’s eyes narrow but he lets me continue without interrupting me.
“He insists in pursuing me, it seems. I asked him to cease with whatever game or plan he might be concocting but I didn’t manage to convince him. I don’t want to cause a scandal nor do I want to complicate matters for father or drag you into this situation. I’m afraid Edward will try to do something foolish to rid himself of his wife in hopes that I will take him again.”
“Perhaps it is time for your father and me to intervene?” Peter offers in a tight voice that oozes the annoyance that I can see reflected in his eyes. He clearly wishes he could throttle Edward or worst, shoot him.
I sigh; this is precisely why I didn’t want to discuss this situation with him. However, I’m running out of options and I’m more and more afraid that I’ll throw caution to the wind and accept Edward’s advances. I can only have so much self-control after all the years I’ve been starving for Edward’s affections.
“I don’t wish for father to involve himself in this matter if possible. He’s much too hot-headed and he’ll surely challenge Edward to a duel if he irritates him. I am loathe of asking this of you, but maybe you could request an audience with Edward and ask him, as a gentleman and my intended, to stop his pursue of me. I trust you’ll have the level-headedness necessary to deal with him without starting gossip?” I say the last part as a question, because truth be told I’m not certain Peter will not challenge Edward to a duel himself if provoked.
“I will do my very best. Still you must understand that I will do what needs to be done to keep that man as far away from you as possible. Like you once said, he made his choices and now he must deal with the consequences. I will not let him drag you into a scandalous affair, not only because you are my dearest friend but… but because I love you.”
I feel a pinch of pain as my heart and mind absorb Peter’s words. He has never spoken them. He has showed me with his actions that his care for me goes further than friendship. Vainly, I hoped that he hadn’t fallen in love with me. Misery fills me as I realise, quite dejectedly, that as much as I wish I could, I do not return the sentiment. I love Peter, but as a brother, a friend, nothing more.
“I don’t expect you to reciprocate the feeling, yet,” Peter reassures me as he gently caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “I have enough patience to wait for you. You’re worth waiting for.”
He places a gentle, soft kiss on my lips and I swallow back the tears that are threatening to escape from my eyes. I’m not as optimistic as Peter seems to be about me ever forgetting Edward.
I close my eyes as Peter deepens the kiss. It’s a bittersweet experience. Peter is a skilful kisser, coaxing a moan of pleasure from me as his tongue explores my mouth most thoroughly. I could come to care for him deeply. I could come to relish the idea of being in his arms, in his bed, as his wife, for if his kisses are any indication he must also be a most practised lover. However, there’s something missing, a spark of something in my heart, in my soul. A something that only Edward’s kisses and caresses seem to ignite in my body.
Gently, our lips part and Peter smiles crookedly, his eyes hooded with passion.
“I must leave,” he whispers as he places a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.
He helps me out of the coach and kisses the back of my gloved hand.
“Please leave this matter in my hands. I will make sure that man doesn’t disturb you anymore.”
I nod, hopeful that he can manage to coax Edward out of his foolhardy schemes. Schemes that will most likely break our hearts all over again.
My aunt is waiting for me in the foyer as she said she would. She doesn’t ask me any questions. Only offers me a smile and hugs me tightly before she leaves me to my troubled thoughts.
-x-X-x-
A couple of days after Lord de Vere’s ball, I’m penning a couple of letters to a few friends in America when Mr Banner interrupts me.
“Miss, sorry to disturb you. But there’s a Lady Victoria Cullen here to see you and she’s most insistent that you receive her. She said it was an urgent matter.”
I am utterly shocked by Mr Banner’s announcement. Victoria is here to see me? What could she possibly have to discuss with me after so many years? I realise if there’s something Victoria and I have in common is Edward. I’m gripped with anxiety. I don’t want to speak with the woman who stole away my life with her titles. I don’t want to face the woman who has shared Edward’s bed and carried his child when I should have been the one to do all those things. I don’t want to see Edward’s ring on her finger or treat her pleasantly when all I wish is for her to be as far away from me as possible.
Suddenly, I realise I don’t have to. She’s not friend of mine, nor is her family friend or associate to my father. I don’t have to receive her if I don’t wish to.
“Please tell Lady Cullen I’m not receiving visitors at the time. No matter the urgency of their business,” I order Mr Banner in a cold, decisive tone.
Mr Banner leaves me only to return a few moments later with a very distressed-looking Victoria in tow.
“I’m so sorry Miss. She threatened to create a scandal if you would not receive her. I turned but a moment to ask the valet to forcefully take her outside if need be and she was already walking towards the parlour,” Mr Banner tries to justify Victoria’s presence before me.
I square my shoulders and nod. “It doesn’t matter, Mr Banner. See to it that Bessie brings us a tray of tea and scones. Lady Cullen looks like she could use a bit of sugary treats.”
A frazzled Mr Banner leaves me alone with my archenemy, the one woman I could have lived without ever laying my eyes upon her visage again.
She looks as lovely as she ever did. Her read hair in a delicate coiffure that gives her an air of elegance she lacked before. She looks older, older than her twenty two years. I suppose the loss of her daughter and subsequent melancholy must have left a mark in her features as well as her heart. She eyes me from head to toe as if she were trying to gauge my worth from my appearance.
I clear my throat to draw her eyes to my face and address her in my most polite tone, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Lady Cullen?” It irks me to no end to have to refer to her as Edward’s wife but I will not give her the satisfaction of knowing how much I loathe her presence before me.
“Please spare me the pleasantries,” she replies in a bitter tone as she stalks towards me and plants herself much too close to me for my liking. “I’ve come to warn you to stay away from my husband, you trollop!”
I blink, confused by Victoria’s antagonism. Never before as she ever treated anyone with anything but politeness. Never in the past did she treat me badly, even though I always suspected she knew of my infatuation with Edward. I knew she saw me as competition in the past, and I knew that was the main reason she told me of the engagement as soon as her father revealed it was a done deal. She wanted to hurt me, I know this now in perspective. However, to openly accuse me of anything as outrageous and scandalous as pursuing her husband, and in my house!
“I bid you to have care with how you address me. I may not be of noble blood as your ladyship, but I’m a lady nonetheless. Do not presume that you can walk into my house throwing threats and insults and putting my staff in a very uncomfortable position,” I respond, adding enough animosity and contempt in my voice for her to understand I’m not to be trifled with.
“Oh, you’ve found your spine, I see!” She replies, her voice derisive and loaded with disgust. “You weren’t so bold when I swept the rug from under your feet and won Edward for me.”
“You did not win Edward,” I exclaim in anger. “You had your father push your suit down Lord Cullen’s throat. You forced yourself into Edward’s life making use of his sense of duty and loyalty towards his family. You’ve won nothing, Victoria, but a man who despises you and has no more interest in you that he has in a stranger off the street.”
I don’t know what has possessed me to rile Victoria in such way but I’m tired of being make less by the aristocracy of this country. My great-grandfather may have been poor as a beggar but at least my father’s money comes from his own wit and hard work, not at the expense of other people’s work. She’s no better than me. In fact, she’s less. She’s not worthy of scraping dirt from my mother’s shoe. She’s a brat, a conceited, entitled brat.
Victoria’s eyes widen and I can almost see smoke coming out of her ears. It’s rather comical if I’m being honest.
“How dare you! You insolent American harlot! Don’t you know your place? My family can be traced back to William the Conqueror! Your great-grandfather was a butcher!”
“A very good butcher, he had the very best meat in all Ireland!” I reply with a sardonic smile plastered on my lips. “If I remember correctly, William the Conqueror was a bastard. At least my great-grandfather was legitimate.”
Victoria screams, a sort of animalistic noise I never expected to come out from inside a girl who just stated she is related to royalty.
Bessie chooses that moment to enter the parlour carrying a tray. She looks at me questioningly, her eyes full of fright. I’m almost certain she’s about to call for the help of mad house officials. Victoria looks positively deranged, but she doesn’t scare me.
“Thank you, Bessie. Please leave us alone and see that we’re not disturbed,” I indicate to my maid as she gingerly places the tea service over a table.
Bessie hesitates for a few moments, but I reassure her with my eyes and bid her to leave with a tilt of my head.
“Victoria,” I say in a calmer tone once we are alone again. “I don’t have all day, and as much as I find your antics entertaining I much rather cut this meeting short. What makes you think I have any interest in your husband? You may not know this but I’m being courted by an American businessman. I don’t need your scraps.”
“Don’t you dare play coy with me, Isabella Swan! I know what your true purpose is by coming back to England. Edward has given me an ultimatum. He wants me to request the divorce! He said he would give me all the proof I need and would help me or he would request it himself. I don’t know what you’ve promised him or what you’ve given him for him to risk a scandal of that magnitude, but I will not let you have him! I rather die than see you married to Edward. He’s mine!”
I’m confused by Victoria’s accusation. Edward said he would give her all the elements she would need to divorce him? Edward gave her the choice to request the divorce herself and be the victim in the scandal that would surely ensue? What is his plan? I don’t understand Edward’s convoluted machinations but I don’t appreciate being dragged into Edward and Victoria’s spousal problems.
“Believe what you will, Lady Cullen. Like I’ve told you, I have no interest in your scraps. Please leave and never return.”
I’ll have to talk to Edward one last time, so that he can clarify exactly what he is concocting. I hate the idea of being blindsided when I’m unwittingly being pushed into this mess.
“Do you know that he likes it when I ride him?” Victoria says after I turn my back to her. My whole body stiffens. I may be an innocent but I know enough, thanks to Alice and her confidences, to know what she’s referring to.
I face Victoria again, ready to send her to Hades, but she speaks before I can utter a word.
“He likes it when I scream his name while I ride him. He enjoys himself more when I’m on top and he can worship my whole body. He caresses me so tenderly when we’re together like that. He’s so, so deep inside me when I’m on top. If feels as if we’re a single body, moving together, coming together into blissful glory.”
Alice told me he hasn’t seen Victoria in almost a whole year. That he ignores her, acts as if she doesn’t exist. I should not let Victoria’s words rattle me so. Yet, I can’t erase the picture she has just painted from my mind. I see him and her. Naked, writhing in bed together, and I feel sick.
I want to die. I want to kill Victoria, because even though she may very well be lying and he hasn’t touched her in years, as Alice presumes. She knows what is like to be connected to him in that way. She was pregnant with his child. She had a part of him inside her and it kills me. It kills me that I want what she’s had so badly, when I shouldn’t want anything from Edward.
I don’t allow myself to show her how deeply she has cut me though. I put on my best mask of indifference and I say in a strong, steady voice, “And you accuse me of being a trollop. I’m a lady, Lady Cullen. A concept you don’t seem to grasp if you’re willing to share such intimacies with a practical stranger. May you have a good day.” I signal the door with my hand, willing her to leave immediately.
At last, Victoria seems to understand there’s nothing left to be said and walks towards the door. Before departing though, she manages to spew some more venom, “I swear to you. I will see him dead before I see him standing by your side as your husband.”
I crumble in a chair as soon as she walks out, worn by the confrontation.
-x-X-x-
Several hours later I’m still sitting in the same chair I sunk into after Victoria’s departure. I’m absentmindedly gazing at the wall, lost in thought, when Bessie announces Peter’s arrival.
He takes one look at me and instinctively knows something is wrong.
“Bella, Mr Banner says you had a visitor this afternoon. Who was the woman who managed to unnerve that man so? I was under the impression he was made of stone. What is the matter, sweetheart?” Peter says in a rush as he takes a seat in a loveseat across from me.
I feel a tear slip from my eye. I’m touched by Peter’s concern and feel despicable for bringing him to England, involving him in this most dreadful situation I find myself in.
Peter brushes the tear away with the pad of his finger and I cannot help myself from rising from my chair, going to the loveseat Peter is seating on and sobbing in his arms.
Peter hushes me and hugs me as I cry myself out. Once I’ve cried all the tears I have left and feel well enough to speak I relay exactly who my visitor was and her intentions. I can see fury forming behind Peter’s eyes as I tell him all that Victoria said.
Peter stands and paces the room like a caged lion. I can see by the way he’s clenching and unclenching his hands that he wishes he wasn’t a gentleman and he could strike a woman, specifically Victoria.
“What does that woman think? What was her purpose coming here? Ugh!” He pulls at his hair and knocks a chair in his rage.
I stand as well and walk to him. I grab him by the hand and make him look at me.
“Peter, she’s a desperate woman. I don’t know exactly what Edward must have said, but whatever it was it made her reckless enough to seek me out in my own home. She’s harmless though. She’s a lady deep down. The most she’d do to me would be to slap me.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Peter says while he squeezes my hand in his.
“Did you meet with him?” I enquire, changing the subject slightly. I know he was to meet Edward this very morning.
“Yes,” Peter replies simply as he caresses my cheek gently with his knuckles.
“What did he say? Is he going to leave this matter alone?” I probe further, anxious for the answer but at the same time dreading it. I hate the part of myself that wants for Edward not to give up, ever.
“The same,” Peter replies, frustration colouring his features. “He had the gall to suggest that I was afraid of what he called a little healthy competition! I don’t believe he will leave you alone.”
I sigh and look away. I don’t want Peter to see the spark of happiness his words create in me. I try to smother the part of me that craves for Edward every day, that hopes for a way in which we could be together again.
Peter places his thumb under my chin and turns my face so that I’m face to face with him.
“I won’t let him anywhere near you. I won’t let him ruin your time in London. You will be here to enjoy the birth of your friend’s child, as you planned, and then we’ll return to America and I’ll make you my wife.”
My eyes widen at Peter’s statement. Even though he has been courting me for the last months—and the logical conclusion of such courtship is a wedding— we haven’t spoken about the subject at all. A frisson of something akin to dread courses through me.
Before I can form a proper reply to Peter’s statement he kisses me. His kiss starts tender, loving, but then it grows heady. He lifts me by snaking his arms around my waist and crushes his body to mine. I can feel a desperation in his kiss I haven’t felt before. Almost as if he was trying to prove to himself that I’m real and his. I moan into his mouth and he responds with a deep groan of his own.
It’s moments like this in which I can almost forget about Edward. Short moments in which I allow myself to imagine a life with Peter, the life Edward and I can no longer have. But these moments pass me by like the mist in early morning. As soon as the sun casts its first rays it dissipates into nothingness.
I push myself away from Peter’s body as the memory of Edward’s kiss at Lord de Vere’s library reels me back into reality.
Peter looks hurt for a fleeting second but he composes himself and smiles sweetly at me. The last thing I want is to hurt my friend.
“Bella, I know that you’re not ready for a formal proposal. But I need you to know that I’m serious in my intentions towards you. Someday soon I’ll ask you to marry me.”
Inside me, two sides war with each other. One side wishes for a peaceful, uncomplicated life with Peter, the other side wishes for a life with Edward in any way I can have him.
-x-X-x-
I am back in the meadow near Masen House. I’m twirling with open arms amongst the flowers and the afternoon sun is shining down upon me.
“Bella!” I hear Edward’s voice call from afar. I stop twirling and I squint, searching for Edward. The sun blinds me though, so no matter where I look I can’t seem to locate him.
“Edward!” I call back.
“Bella!” Edward yells, his voice getting much closer than before.
“Where are you?” I ask and giggle, entertained by this game we are playing.
I feel a pair of arms snake around my waist from behind and I smile. I turn to find Edward as he looked when he was sixteen. He’s smiling boyishly at me and I grin back. I turn my neck enough to capture his lips with mine. Our kiss is tender, innocent, but filled with that incandescent passion only true love can spark inside your soul.
“I missed you. Where were you?” I ask.
His smile broadens and he nuzzles my nose with his before he releases me. I turn completely to face him.
“I’ve never left, my Bella. I’m always with you.”
Something odd occurs and it seems as if the distance between Edward and me is increasing even though neither he nor I have taken a single step.
“Edward!” I scream as he disappears in the distance. “Edward!” I yell louder, fear coursing through my veins.
“Hush!” I hear someone whisper as I open my eyes suddenly. I was dreaming, but before I can fully comprehend what is happening a hand covers my mouth. My eyes widen when in the darkness I can distinguish a pair of green eyes gazing at me from above.
Edward is in my room.
-x-X-x-
Are you all saying: OMG…OMG…what has he done now? :D
Are you all saying: OMG…OMG…what has he done now? :D
To the guest who asked why would I name my story something almost identical to another current story: The name of my story comes from a song by Michael Bolton that inspired the plot. I don’t know to which story you were referring to but it might be that the author based her title in the same song name? *shrugs*
Last week I had the worst week ever or best week depending on the perspective…lol
A tornado hit my town (we never ever have tornadoes. Last one in my country was in 1926.) Yet, stars aligned or something and we had and F2. Since we never have tornadoes we weren’t prepared to respond to such emergency and I was without power, water or a phone line until Thursday. I went a little crazy since my laptop and other devices ran out of batteries fast.
Anywho, in the scheme of things I was lucky and my house suffered minimal damage and none of my love ones were hurt. So like I said, had a bad week or a good one depending on the perspective.
I hope this chapter was worth your time.
Thanks for reading :)
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