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
Liverpool,
England 1894
The water is calm and the skies are clear as we approach the port of
Liverpool. I feel nervous and excited at the same time as I see the coast of
England for the first time in so long. It feels like coming home, but at the
same time I’m overwhelmed by feelings of anxiety and even fear the closer the
ship gets to the landing stage.
Aunt Leah and my mother chat incessantly by my side. Mother is excited to
be back on English soil after so long and seeing my father after three months
apart. Peter is staring solemnly towards the water, lost in thought. I squeeze
Peter’s left hand bringing his attention back to me.
“Where are you?” I enquire.
“Nowhere, I was just thinking about the last time I visited England. I must
have been twelve. I came with my father. It was one of the last trips we took
together.”
“Do you miss him?”
“Sometimes,” he replies. “He was a very strict man. Focused on his
businesses and not as indulging as your father, for example. However, I always
had a great respect and admiration for him. He would have been sorely
disappointed in my behaviour these last few years.”
“But you have changed so much!” I interject; it’s not fair for Peter to
dwell on his wild years as his mother
calls them.
“I have. And I wish to change even more. I wish to be a man worthy of
your love,” he adds, placing a kiss on my cheek. The gesture is tender, and
bold given the fact that we’re out in the open, where anyone, including my aunt
and mother can see us.
“Thank you,” I whisper, touched by his words.
“Why?”
“For being there for me,” I reply simply and look out at the nearing
coast.
-x-X-x-
London,
England 1894
“Bella!” My father greets with a broad smile playing on his lips. He
embraces me tightly, and I reciprocate the gesture with enthusiasm. I have missed
him dearly and I’m once again glad for my decision to come to England.
“I’ve missed you, poppa!” I whisper and place a kiss on his cheek.
I can’t help but feel there’s a deeper meaning to his words than what
they seem on the surface.
“Mr Rothschild,” he acknowledges Peter with a scowl. My mother has been
kind enough to inform me that my father is not yet convinced of Peter’s change
nor is he happy with our courtship. She also made her great pleasure known and
her assurance that she would deal
with my father as soon as we arrived to England. A notion that I must confess
made me laugh at the time. Only Renee Swan would have the courage to deal with
the mighty Charles Swan and turn out the victor.
“Mr Swan,” Peter replies, grinning like a fool. He’s too fond of pushing
my father into an irate state.
I sigh, torn between laughing and being appalled at the exchange.
“I trust you had a good trip,” My father continues as he greets my mother
and aunt Leah.
“It was marvellous. The whole voyage was filled with sunny days and the
calmest sea. I felt as it was meant to be that we shall we back in England at
this precise time!” my mother answers enthusiastically.
“How wonderful!” father comments before he kisses mother’s cheek and she
giggles like a schoolgirl. For a moment I feel envious of them. I haven’t
giggled or acted childishly in so long. I squash my less than generous feelings
and try to bask in the happiness my parents radiate.
“You must all be tired. I already ordered a small meal to be served on
each of your rooms. Mr Rothschild, I trust you must be exhausted as well. My carriage
awaits to take you to your townhouse as soon as you’re ready.”
“Thank you Mr Swan, very considerate of you,” Peter replies completely
unaffected by my father’s obvious efforts to send him away.
“I shall return this evening for supper. Mrs Swan was kind enough to
extend an invitation for tonight,” he adds with a mischievous glint in his
eyes.
“Of course,” my father grumbles as he glares towards his still giggling
wife.
“Until tonight,” Peter says bowing to me and kissing my hand. I smile at
his gesture, still not used to the way he treats me ever since we kissed. He’s
more openly affectionate and adoring, and I’m confused and somewhat skittish
about the whole situation.
-x-X-x-
After Peter leaves, I’m in my room eating a delicious tart with some tea
when someone knocks on my door.
“Please do come in!”
“Hello,” my father says as he closes the door behind him. He looks
preoccupied as he walks into my seating room and paces for several moments
before he utters a word.
“Very well child, you know how I love you dearly. You’re my only daughter
and heir and all the hard work of my life was always aimed for your happiness
and satisfaction.”
“I know poppa,” I reply, taken aback by my father’s words. “I never
doubted for a moment your love and devotion for mother and myself.”
Father smiles and takes a seat across from me.
“I’m glad to hear it, sweetheart. I’ve tried to protect you over the
years from anything that could sadden you or stress you unduly. However, now that you have returned to England
there are some things that I just can’t keep hidden.”
“What do you speak of, father?” I enquire, suddenly concerned over yet
another revelation that may crush my heart.
“I know you requested that neither Alice nor I should ever mention Edward’s
fate. Nonetheless, there are certain things you should know about the man
before you’re exposed to London’s society once more. I do not want you to learn
of these things while in the presence of others.”
I nod at my father’s words. If there’s something about Edward that might
upset me I would rather learn of it from my father’s lips than hear about it
during a soiree or ball.
“As you well know Lord Cullen married Lady Victoria quite a few years
ago. As far as I know they have been living separately ever since.” My father
narrows his eyes at me when he notices a spark of hope in my eyes, that try as
I might I cannot squelch.
“I don’t want you to get your hopes up on that account. Many married
couples of the peerage live separately that doesn’t mean they aren’t husband
and wife by all intents and purposes,” my father adds.
I feel a prickling of pain stab at my heart as my father reminds me with
his words just what it entails that Edward and Victoria are a married couple
now. He may not live with her but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t visit her bed
quite often. I should not care, but I do in spite of everything.
“Edward has changed,” father continues undeterred. “He’s not the boy you
once knew and loved. After his mother’s death, Lord Carlisle secluded himself
away from society in Masen House. Edward has taken over his family’s investments
and I’ve been told he’s quite the ruthless businessman. People in London
society refer to him as the Demon of Masen. I‘ve heard so many stories of his cruelty;
of the people he has supposedly destroyed to increase his fortune. He owns half
of London, my child. No man amasses that kind of fortune by being kind, so I
have to believe that the rumours about him must be based on some truth.”
A few tears slip from my eyes as I imagine the sweet boy who would recite
me poetry or play the piano for me turning into an insensitive, cruel man
people refer to as a demon. I can not comprehend how such a change could have occurred.
However, deep down I always knew Edward was too sweet to survive his father’s
machinations without having some part of his self broken in the process.
“Bella,” father says as he tenderly kisses my hand. “I did not tell you
this to hurt you. I wanted to prepare you in the event that you should cross
paths with him. He spends the majority of his time in London, while his wife stays
in Masen House. It’s very likely that you might encounter him. I want you to be
ready for any situation that might arise.”
“I will father,” I answer in what I hope is a reassuring tone. I knew
when I decided to return to England that there was a high possibility that I
might see Edward again. I have to admit to myself that it was one of the
reasons I had acquiesced to Peter’s company in this trip. I’m afraid of my
reaction, of what I might do if there’s no barrier between Edward and me the
next time we meet.
“You look different from the last time I saw you,” my father says,
effectively changing the subject.
“How so?”
“You look almost yourself. Your old self, before everything changed and
we moved to the Vineyard.”
I blink. He’s not the first to tell me such thing. Aunt Leah, and mother
have commented something similar as well in the last few days.
“It’s Peter’s influence, isn’t?” my father asks.
I consider it for a few moments before I reply, “I believe so, yes.”
“Good,” my father says as he stands. “As long as he makes you happy I’ll
not interfere. However, if he hurts you even in the slightest I will not hesitate
to show him the full scope of my wrath.”
I smile, touched by my father’s protectiveness.
“I believe Peter will prove himself worthy of your respect soon enough,”
I avow.
-x-X-x-
Our first evening in England had been a success. My father, stern as he
always tried to appear, could not resist Peter’s good humour. In spite of the
many misgivings he still has in regards of Peter’s character I could see clear
as day that in time my father would come to accept Peter. Maybe even love him…like
a son.
As I drink a cup of coffee on my first morning on England after almost half
a decade away. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to see Peter as more than a
friend. He’s persistent and charming. I can’t help but feel flattered by his
attentions now that they are aimed solely at me. However, there’s always this
nagging feeling, this doubt inside me that makes me hold back and keeps me one
step away from bestowing my affections upon him.
“Miss,” Bessie interrupts my ponderings.
“Yes, Bessie,” I turn towards my maid who looks quite discomfited.
“Miss, there’s a man here to see you. I told him that Mr and Mrs Cullen
and Mrs Black are not at home and you cannot receive him but he’s most
insistent.”
I look at her perplexed. Who could be so adamant in speaking to me when I’m
alone at the townhouse? It’s most inappropriate.
“What is his name, Bessie?” I enquire.
“Lord Edward Cullen,” a voice replies as I see a ghost from my past appear
behind my maid.
He stands, the boy I once loved with all my heart, looking quite the man.
He’s tall. Taller than I remember his eyes greener than ever and pointedly
fixed on me. His smile is devilish, his features chiselled. He looks like if he
was carved from stone, godlike in his beauty and countenance.
He looks dangerous, dark, and my stomach tightens at the sight, from
anxiety and something more I can’t quite put a name on.
“Edward,” I whisper in shock.
“Bella,” he acknowledges in a deep, velvety voice.
My brain frantically searches for a reply as it chants: it’s too soon, I’m not ready.
He gently pushes a frightened Bessie out of the room as I hear him order
her that we are not to be disturbed.
Then, he closes the door and turns his wicked verdant gaze on me.
“Finally,” he says and I gulp.
-x-X-x-
That boy
just could not stay away once he learned she was back. Well, things should be
quite interesting from here on out. *imagines an Edward/Peter mud fight* Oh
yeah…
PS. Scredriver
is the name of a cocktail. It’s yummy but to be avoided on an empty stomach :D
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