The Journey
by Laura Spudzmom
Chapter 05
After Carlisle left their bedchamber, Isabella dried her tears and rose from the bed, determined to muster all the strength she could for the dreaded doctor's arrival.
She'd decided she would not let this happen. She'd fight with all she had to avoid any and all archaic treatment. She had to in order to protect her health and that of her unborn child.
With these thoughts in mind, she slipped out of her bed clothes and began to dress. She would meet the man with poise and determination rather than a weakened, bedridden state, no matter her husband's opinion on the matter.
Running her hands over the folds of her dress to smooth it into place, she walked to the vanity to make herself presentable. She'd need every advantage in order to pull this off and looking like a sickly waif wouldn't help her case in the least, she knew.
When she'd finished her grooming, she stared at her reflection for a moment, pinched some color into her cheeks and squared her shoulders. "Time to go defy your husband Isabella," she muttered. "May the good Lord help me…"
~o0o~
The sound of footsteps approaching the parlor caught Carlisle's attention as he cut short his conversation with his mother and shot to his feet as Isabella entered the room.
"Isabella, child, you should be abed!" Mary said.
Isabella ignored her husband and smiled at her mother-in-law as she seated herself in an adjacent chair. "I am fine, I assure you Mary, but thank you for your concern."
"You do have more color in your cheeks…" she conceded while glancing at her son.
Carlisle frowned, not only at his ailing wife's presence, but also because she had yet to meet his gaze. She was shunning him. He knew she was upset with his insistence upon summoning the doctor, but this was the first time she'd ever expressed any degree of ire. It was unsettling.
He stood and held out a hand to her. "I have sent for the doctor. Come, I will escort you back to our chambers. I insist you rest until he arrives."
Just then, the housekeeper entered the room and Isabella directed her attention to the woman while avoiding her husband. "Ah, Gerty! Would you be so kind as to bring us some tea?"
Gerty's eyes flitted between the scowling young Lord and his wife before dipping into a quick curtsy. "Right away Ma'am." She scurried from the room and Carlisle turned back to his wife.
"Isabella, I must insist you return to your bed. I will have tea brought to you." He held out his hand once again. "Come, I will see you there."
She waved a dismissive hand and smiled at a sheepish looking Mary. "That won't be necessary. I'm tired of lying abed, especially since I feel fine." She met his eyes and glanced away as he dropped his hand and moved back to his seat with a sigh.
"All right then, I'll allow it until the doctor arrives."
She frowned but refrained from any retort as Gerty entered with a tea service. "There you are my Lady," she said while setting a steaming cup on the table beside Isabella.
"Thank you Gerty," she murmured as she took the cup and sipped the soothing liquid.
"Will that be all?" the aged housekeeper questioned.
"Yes, thank you," Mary answered with a wave of dismissal and Gerty left the room, closing the double doors behind herself as the tension rose in the quiet room.
After preparing her own cup, Mary sat back and broke the silence. "I think you'll like Dr. Whitehall, Isabella. He's a kind and agreeable man and very knowledgeable." She stared at her daughter-in-law over the rim of her cup and couldn't help but notice the frown on the younger woman's face.
"I am sure you speak the truth Mary, but I have no need of his expertise as I am not ill."
She startled, almost spilling her tea at her husband's sharp tone when he spoke. "Not ill?! I arrive home to find you abed, looking as if the barest wind could bowl you over and you claim to be perfectly fine?!"
"Carlisle, your tone my son…" Mary murmured while laying a hand on his arm. His expression darkened and he looked away while Mary shot a sympathetic look at Isabella. "He is merely worried for your health child."
Despite the tension, Isabella maintained a cool facade. "I appreciate that, but his concern is unwarranted." She barely avoided wincing at Carlisle's scoff.
"You try my patience, wife," he said while pinning her with a frosty gaze. "It is my duty to see to your needs and those of my child. You will not defy me in this."
Isabella bristled and set her cup aside while meeting his gaze steadily. She marveled at her sudden temerity. She could never recall a time when she'd been so bold as it was considered unseemly for a woman of the times. Upon reflection, she could only attribute this new burst of rebellion to her added persona of Bella Swan and her decidedly more independent views, but whatever the cause, she would use it. She had to for the safety of her child.
With a bit of steel lacing her tone, she answered him. "I am not averse to being examined, but I will not consent to bloodletting in any form."
Mary cleared her throat and shifted in her seat as the young couple stared each other down, the tension crackling between them only breaking when the doors opened and Gerty entered to announce the arrival of Dr. Whitehall.
"Show him to my chambers Gerty. We'll be along in a moment," Carlisle said as he rose and held out a hand to his wife.
After the barest hesitation, she grasped it and rose while turning to Mary. "Thank you for the company Mary. I shall see you later."
Mary smiled despite the concern in her eyes. "Of course child."
"Mother," Carlisle said with a nod before placing Isabella's hand on his arm to escort her. "I'll see you at dinner."
With that, they left the room and ascended the stairs to their bedchamber where the doctor and Gerty now waited. Pausing at the door, he turned to her and cupped her cheek as his eyes searched hers. "Do not be cross with me," he pleaded before leaning down to brush her lips with his.
Stepping back, she stared into his eyes for a moment before backing through the door. He stood and watched it close with a click before leaning against the wall just beside it to wait, his fingers rubbing his eyes as he released a sigh. Minutes ticked by and he lost himself in thoughts.
He hated that she was angry with him, but he would do anything, including incur her ire, to assure her well-being and that of their child.
He was startled from his thoughts sometime later as the door opened and the doctor walked out. "Lord Cullen," he said with a nod.
"How is she?" he asked with a quick glance into the room before looking back at the amused doctor.
"Hale and hearty young Lord, and so is the child."
Carlisle furrowed his brow. "She looked so ill earlier…"
"Oh, aye, she was. T'was only a fleeting thing however, due to the babe in her belly. Perfectly normal for some, even at this latter stage, I assure you. I've given your maid some herbs to add to her tea. That should take care of it."
Carlisle sighed in relief. "My thanks to you Dr. Whitehall."
The doctor chuckled and patted his shoulder. "My pleasure young Lord. Now, go and see your Lady. I'll show myself out. Good day to you."
"To you as well," Carlisle said with a nod while turning to the door. He entered and nodded to Gerty as she finished tidying and left the room. He stood somewhat awkwardly before moving a chair next to the bed and taking a seat.
He observed silently for a moment as Isabella stared at her hands in her lap, her fingers twisting the edge of the linen sheet. "The doctor says you are well," he said and watched as she frowned before meeting his gaze.
"Just as I said," she reminded, her eyes flashing in indignation.
His lips curved into the barest smile as he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're very stubborn, did you know?"
Her eyes narrowed as she quipped, "Said the pot to the kettle…"
He chuckled with a nod. "My apologies my Lady wife, but I shall never leave your well-being to chance." He leaned forward and took her hand in his. "Will you forgive me?" She looked away and then glanced askance, seeming to think about it. He persisted. "If I were to take you for a stroll before dinner? The day is lovely…" He caught her gaze, his brilliant blue eyes expectant, and she sighed.
"Taking a bit of air does sound lovely…" she murmured and he smiled.
"Good," he said as he rose. "I'll send someone to assist you and await you in the library." He leaned down and kissed her, his lips lingering for a moment as she yielded and returned the kiss. Her eyes fluttered open as he whispered, his sweet breath fanning her cheek as he spoke, "I love you wife."
Her conscience nagged as she watched him smile and leave the room. She was still hesitant to allow herself to feel more than a deep regard for him. It was becoming harder and harder though to stifle the love she worked so diligently to deny; the love that only grew with each day spent with him. The same feelings that warmed her heart also served to terrify her as each day of his twenty third year ticked by.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she called out. "Enter!"
The young maid entered and curtsied. "I'm to help ya dress for an outing my Lady."
With a sigh, Isabella threw back the covers and perched on the edge of the bed. "Yes," she answered. "Nothing too elaborate. I'll just be taking the air with my husband before dinner."
~o0o~
Isabella breathed deeply as she walked along on the arm of her husband, the fresh air and sunshine serving to bolster her spirits and bring a smile to her lips. They'd been strolling for a while now and it had taken time to shake her sullen thoughts and mood from earlier.
"Is that a smile I see on my lady's face?" Carlisle teased while caressing her hand on his arm.
"Your eyes do not fail you my Lord," she said while keeping her gaze forward.
He chuckled. "It gladdens my heart to see it. I feared you would be cross with me for some time yet."
Her smile fell. She didn't like when they disagreed and for the most part, she'd been able to avoid such instances except for the times they spoke of his moonlit hunts. She looked up at him. "I dislike being vexed with you. It unsettles me."
"Aye, I feel the same," he said with a nod.
He patted her hand. "Enough of the unpleasant," he redirected and she agreed with a nod as he looked down with a smile. "I've been thinking of what to name our child."
"Oh?" she questioned. "And have you something in mind?" She peeked at him and saw his grin.
"Well, I was considering William for a son and Elizabeth for a daughter." He glanced at her.
"Does either please you?"
"Hmm," she mused, her eyes sparkling with joy at the thought of their baby. "Will or Beth… yes I do believe I like them."
Her breath caught when she looked at him. His smile was breathtaking and his eyes sparkled with love as he gazed at her. "You fill my heart with joy untold my sweet, beautiful Isabella." He glanced around at the people on the cobbled street before murmuring lowly. "And you make me long for the privacy of our chambers." He lifted her hand to place a lingering kiss on her fingers while his vivid blue eyes burned into her like flames.
She blushed and looked down. "You should not speak so in public my Lord."
His answering laugh was quiet and throaty while his eyes burned with promise. "Till later then my Lady," he said and her cheeks flushed anew even as a pleasant and familiar heat pooled low in her belly.
"Lord Cullen!" A voice unfamiliar to Isabella called out and her husband stopped and turned toward the man who approached.
"Ah, Gideon, good day to you," he greeted and the man smiled and tipped his hat.
"The best of days to you Lord Cullen, Lady Cullen," the man returned. "The lads and I was wonderin' if the hunt is on for this eve?"
Carlisle nodded. "I was delayed in getting back to the church this afternoon to confirm. My apologies, but yes, we will be going out this night."
Isabella sucked in a breath as her heart lurched with dread. Her hold tightened on Carlisle's arm and he glanced at her in concern as the man smiled.
"Very well, I'll let the lads know and we'll be ready." With another tip of his hat, he was off and Carlisle patted her hand as he turned them back toward their home and began walking.
"Must you go?" she asked as her vision blurred with unshed tears.
He tensed and she braced herself for his response. "We have spoken of this. These creatures are evil Isabella and now that I've seen them with my own eyes, yes, I must do my duty as a man of God. I must vanquish them."
A lone tear slipped down her cheek and he handed her his kerchief. "What of your duty as a husband—a father—what of that duty?" She pulled her hand from his arm and dabbed at her eyes. "You'll leave us bereft!"
He frowned and placed her hand back on his arm to continue their walk home. "The hunts are part of my duty to you and our child. While such evil exists, you are not safe." He looked down at her. "You are the wife of a clergyman. You knew what I was when you accepted my suit…"
She yanked her arm from his hold and glared at him. "Do not think me unaware of your distaste with your profession!" she said with quiet vehemence. "I know, if not for your father, you would never have chosen such a life for yourself."
His eyes narrowed and he glanced around at the surreptitious looks they were drawing from the crowds. "Isabella," he warned, "this is not the time nor the place to conduct such a discussion." He held out a hand to her. "Come, let us return home."
Shame quickly overrode her fear and anger upon seeing the attention she'd drawn and she took his arm once again, walking quietly at his side.
She broke the silence as they drew near to their home. "I fear for you," she admitted while looking at the cobblestones. She heard a quiet sigh while he gently squeezed her hand.
"We cannot live our lives in fear. I do the Lord's work. If it is His will, I will prevail. I will not turn aside from it. I cannot." He led her up the steps and into the house where he paused to hang their cloaks before escorting her to their chambers.
She walked to the window and stared out at the people bustling about below as she cried silently. His arms encircled her a moment later and he placed tender kisses on her neck. She tilted her head and shivered as her eyes slowly closed. "I love you," he breathed against her kiss-dampened skin. "I will stay safe…"
She leaned her head back against his shoulder. "No," she whispered too low for him to hear as his kisses continued. "You will not…"
Slowly, his fingers worked the laces on the front of her dress and he stepped back to sweep the garment from her shoulders, leaving her in a loose linen shift.
He turned her toward him and dried her tears with his thumbs as he leaned down and took her lips with his. It was tender and achingly sweet and she sobbed while opening to him fully.
He groaned and pulled her close as his tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her sweetness as she met him eagerly, her passion almost desperate as her hands tangled into his hair. He broke the kiss to trail his lips along her jaw and down her neck, his teeth nipping and tongue soothing the tender flesh as her hands worked to rid him of his coat and shirt.
When she'd loosened the garments, she backed away and swept her hands over his chest and shoulders, taking the clothing with them until the garments fell in a loose pile at his feet. "Beautiful…" she whispered as her hands trailed over his muscled chest. She leaned in and swirled her tongue around his darkened nipple and he gasped and buried his fingers in her luscious curls as his head dropped back while she sucked and nipped at the hardened bud.
"Isabella…" he muttered and she trailed kisses across his chest to give attention to the other side while her fingers worked the laces of his breeches.
She urged him back toward the bed while pushing his breeches down from his hips and he sat and watched with a heated gaze as she knelt and removed his boots and clothing, leaving him bare and ready. "Lie back my Lord," she urged while shedding her knickers and he scooted back against the pillows, his eyes lighting with curiosity as she climbed onto the bed and straddled him, her hands on his shoulders for support as her wet heat rubbed achingly over his hard cock.
He encircled her in his arms and pulled her close, his lips trailing searing kisses along the column of her throat between murmured words. "What do you propose, wife?" he questioned as his hand glided over her swollen belly.
Her face heated at his query. The standard positions Carlisle favored for lovemaking had become somewhat difficult for her as the months progressed and she, as Isabella, had no knowledge of a solution other than Carlisle taking her from behind. While she enjoyed that, she wanted him closer. She wanted to be able to see him…kiss him.
She, as Bella Swan however, did have a solution. Not from practical experience, but from the more liberal society of her time. Therefore, she wanted to try riding astride him, but now she was somewhat hesitant. How could she explain this to her husband?
Feeling him at her entrance, she decided to forego any discussion and wordlessly guided his cock with a hand as she took him into her tight heat with a breathy moan. He drew in a shocked breath before groaning as his hands went instantly to her hips while he thrust up into her.
"Isabella…" he groaned as his head fell back.
With her hands braced against his chest, she began to move slowly over him, tentatively rising and falling until she became adept. Then, she lost herself…
…in the heated look in his eyes as he watched her, his blue gaze hooded with lust as his breath panted out through parted, supple lips…
…in the way he worshiped her with his hands as they reverently glided over her body…
…and the feel of his thick, hard cock filling her time and again as she rode him.
He was perfect…
He was beautiful…
…and her heart ached with the knowledge that she would lose him, even as their passion climbed higher and higher until, with a cry and a groan, they peaked together as he pulled her into a kiss.
He felt her tears on his bare chest and cupped her face in his hands as he drew back to see her. "Why do you weep?" he murmured as he dried her cheeks with gentle fingers.
Averting her gaze, she shook her head and refused to give voice to her fears. She knew it would be for naught if she did, so she chose to remain silent. He'd made his views on his safety clear so instead of risking the same old argument, she tucked her face against his neck and soothed herself in his scent and warmth and the comforting throb of his pulse.
"Isabella?" he questioned. When she remained silent, he laid with her on the bed with a sigh as she curled herself around him. "Do not fear my love. All will be well," he murmured while rubbing her back and she closed her eyes and prayed he spoke the truth as she slowly slipped into sleep.
Carlisle laid with her for a while until his stomach rumbled in protest. "Isabella?" he shook her gently, trying to wake her for dinner but she merely grumbled and pushed his hands away as he quietly laughed. "Very well my love," he said as he sat up. "I'll leave you to your rest." A quiet hmm was her only response so he rose from the bed, covered her with a quilt and dressed for dinner. He would need the nourishment for the long night ahead.
Giving his cravat one final tug, he leaned down and kissed her softly. "Sleep well my Lady," he said before turning and leaving the room.
~o0o~
When he entered the dining room he hesitated for a moment, seeing only his father at the table. "Good evening Father. Is mother unwell?" he asked as he moved into the room and took his seat. A look and a grunt was Charles's only response as Carlisle unfolded his linen napkin and placed it in his lap.
A blushing serving girl placed the soup course before him and he whispered a prayer of thanks before beginning his meal in silence as his father eyed him over the rim of his wine glass.
"I'm told your wife is unwell?" Charles finally questioned, breaking the tense silence.
"She is merely resting. She was weary from our walk. I'll have dinner sent up to her later."
"Hmph," the older man grunted. "She seems a frail one, like your mother. Too frail to produce an acceptable heir."
Carlisle tensed and a muscle jumped in his cheek as he reached for his glass. After taking a slow sip, he met his father's mocking gaze. "She is fine father, just a bit tired," he said as he commenced eating.
After some moments, Charles raised his glass with a poisonous smirk. "As you say…son."
Carlisle's spoon clattered into his empty bowl and he motioned to the fidgeting serving girl. "Clear this, I am ready for the next course."
She dipped a curtsy. "Yes my Lord," she gushed as she cleared the bowl away and replaced it with the main course moments later.
"I expect true results from this night's hunt. I grow weary of your continued failures Carlisle. My patience wanes dangerously."
Carlisle clenched the hand that rested in his lap as he struggled to stifle his mounting anger. "We do the Lord's work in the Lord's time. Be it His will, we will see success."
Charles's eyes flashed with anger. "Our Lord helps those who help themselves. His work is never accomplished without effort, despite His holy will."
Carlisle slammed his fork onto the table while staring into his lap. "Every full moon I go on the hunt! In addition to my daily work at the church! Is that not effort enough for you?! You can demand no more from me!"
"Watch your words and tone with me my son. I am your father and you will honor and obey me without question," Charles seethed.
Carlisle dropped his head in instant deference, a lifetime of harsh conditioning under Charles's strap quelling his anger and spirit as he conceded. "As you say Father."
"Do not make the mistake of thinking you're too old to be chastened should I choose to do so." He paused for effect.
"Do not come back until you have killed or captured some of the evil that roams this city. I'll send you out every night if needs be, not just on the full moon, am I understood?"
"Yes Father," Carlisle answered even as his fist clenched so hard his nails drew blood in his palm.
"Good," Charles grunted while lifting his wine glass. "You've eaten enough. Be gone with you. Our Lord knows it won't hurt you to get an early start."
Carlisle placed his napkin by his plate and rose from his seat. Turning to his father, he bowed. "A very pleasant evening to you Father," he said before turning to the serving girl.
"Please deliver dinner to my wife in my chambers and see to any other needs she may have. I will be very late this evening."
"Yes my Lord," she squeaked with a curtsy as Carlisle turned and left the room.
Snatching his cloak from the rack in the foyer, he donned it and yanked the door open, slamming it behind him when he'd exited. Furious didn't begin to describe what he felt at the moment and his long strides saw him to his destination in no time.
Throwing open the heavy oak doors, he strode down the center aisle of the empty church. He fell to his knees in front of the altar while staring up at the imposing moonlit cross as if it held all the answers. "Why does he hate me so?" he begged as years of pain and tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. "Will I never meet his expectations? Am I ever doomed to failure in his eyes? Why Lord… Why?"
He doubled over on himself, his forehead resting on his knees as he wept, his shoulders heaving with sobs as he finally broke and allowed himself to vent his pain and sorrow.
When the pain had dulled and the tears run out, he sat up and stared straight ahead while the silence, both in the church and his heart overwhelmed him. 'Where is God?' he thought, his mental tone bitter. 'Why are there never any answers for me? Never any respite…' Shame filled him almost instantly as his thoughts turned to all the less fortunate souls that he ministered to daily. Families with not enough to eat or the coin to keep clothes on their backs… 'Forgive me Lord,' he prayed. 'Let me always be mindful of your many blessing upon my life.'
With that, he rose and retrieved a flint from the tinderbox to light a candle. When he'd done so, he knelt back at the altar and began to pray in earnest. He prayed for safety and prosperity for his parish, he prayed for his wife and child, he prayed that God would touch and soften his father's heart and lastly he prayed for success in the hunt. 'Father, allow me to find these creatures of evil and rout them from our midst. In Christ's holy name, I pray, amen,' he finished as he crossed himself and rose to his feet.
"Lord Cullen?"
He wiped the tears from his face and turned. "Good eve Gideon," he greeted.
"To you as well," his parishioner answered with a nod. "The lads are ready and waiting my Lord."
"Good, we'll pray and commence the hunt," he said as they walked from the church and closed the doors.
~o0o~
Isabella awoke to the smell of food just as her door closed softly. She sat up and peered around the darkened room, profoundly feeling the absence of her husband. 'So, he's gone to the hunt already,' she thought.
Sliding to the side of the bed, she stood and slipped her discarded knickers on under her shift before sitting at the small table where her dinner tray sat. Lifting the cover from the plate, she took up her fork and, after a quick prayer of thanks, began eating. While she ate, her thoughts fixed on the danger her husband was facing, yet again and her appetite vanished. Placing her fork down, she reached for the tea pot and poured a steaming cup of the brew, picked it up and took a bracing sip. "Much better," she muttered as the mildly bitter brew washed away the nauseating taste of her dinner. The food was excellent as usual but she couldn't manage it through her stomach clenching fear that seemed to worsen by the minute.
Rising from her seat, she began to pace, her bare feet padding quietly, back and forth across the open space of the room as her chest tightened and her hands shook. "What is wrong with me?" she questioned as she paused and stared at her unsteady hands. She crossed her arms over her chest and resumed pacing.
She'd always feared for him on such nights, but never to this degree and she wasn't sure how to quell it. "Husband," her trembling voice whispered. "Will this be the night?" Tears fell from her eyes as pain of anticipated loss nearly crippled her. "I cannot bear it!" she sobbed as her eyes fell on her discarded dress. Hope bloomed in her chest and she took it up and began to dress, her trembling fingers barely able to tighten the laces.
"I will stop this," she vowed to the silence as her hand caressed her rounded belly. "I will save him and change our fate. I will not have you grow up without a father."
So saying, she pulled on her shoes, crept down the stairs and snuck out of the house, pausing only long enough to don her heavy cloak before slipping out into the night.
After Carlisle left their bedchamber, Isabella dried her tears and rose from the bed, determined to muster all the strength she could for the dreaded doctor's arrival.
She'd decided she would not let this happen. She'd fight with all she had to avoid any and all archaic treatment. She had to in order to protect her health and that of her unborn child.
With these thoughts in mind, she slipped out of her bed clothes and began to dress. She would meet the man with poise and determination rather than a weakened, bedridden state, no matter her husband's opinion on the matter.
Running her hands over the folds of her dress to smooth it into place, she walked to the vanity to make herself presentable. She'd need every advantage in order to pull this off and looking like a sickly waif wouldn't help her case in the least, she knew.
When she'd finished her grooming, she stared at her reflection for a moment, pinched some color into her cheeks and squared her shoulders. "Time to go defy your husband Isabella," she muttered. "May the good Lord help me…"
~o0o~
The sound of footsteps approaching the parlor caught Carlisle's attention as he cut short his conversation with his mother and shot to his feet as Isabella entered the room.
"Isabella, child, you should be abed!" Mary said.
Isabella ignored her husband and smiled at her mother-in-law as she seated herself in an adjacent chair. "I am fine, I assure you Mary, but thank you for your concern."
"You do have more color in your cheeks…" she conceded while glancing at her son.
Carlisle frowned, not only at his ailing wife's presence, but also because she had yet to meet his gaze. She was shunning him. He knew she was upset with his insistence upon summoning the doctor, but this was the first time she'd ever expressed any degree of ire. It was unsettling.
He stood and held out a hand to her. "I have sent for the doctor. Come, I will escort you back to our chambers. I insist you rest until he arrives."
Just then, the housekeeper entered the room and Isabella directed her attention to the woman while avoiding her husband. "Ah, Gerty! Would you be so kind as to bring us some tea?"
Gerty's eyes flitted between the scowling young Lord and his wife before dipping into a quick curtsy. "Right away Ma'am." She scurried from the room and Carlisle turned back to his wife.
"Isabella, I must insist you return to your bed. I will have tea brought to you." He held out his hand once again. "Come, I will see you there."
She waved a dismissive hand and smiled at a sheepish looking Mary. "That won't be necessary. I'm tired of lying abed, especially since I feel fine." She met his eyes and glanced away as he dropped his hand and moved back to his seat with a sigh.
"All right then, I'll allow it until the doctor arrives."
She frowned but refrained from any retort as Gerty entered with a tea service. "There you are my Lady," she said while setting a steaming cup on the table beside Isabella.
"Thank you Gerty," she murmured as she took the cup and sipped the soothing liquid.
"Will that be all?" the aged housekeeper questioned.
"Yes, thank you," Mary answered with a wave of dismissal and Gerty left the room, closing the double doors behind herself as the tension rose in the quiet room.
After preparing her own cup, Mary sat back and broke the silence. "I think you'll like Dr. Whitehall, Isabella. He's a kind and agreeable man and very knowledgeable." She stared at her daughter-in-law over the rim of her cup and couldn't help but notice the frown on the younger woman's face.
"I am sure you speak the truth Mary, but I have no need of his expertise as I am not ill."
She startled, almost spilling her tea at her husband's sharp tone when he spoke. "Not ill?! I arrive home to find you abed, looking as if the barest wind could bowl you over and you claim to be perfectly fine?!"
"Carlisle, your tone my son…" Mary murmured while laying a hand on his arm. His expression darkened and he looked away while Mary shot a sympathetic look at Isabella. "He is merely worried for your health child."
Despite the tension, Isabella maintained a cool facade. "I appreciate that, but his concern is unwarranted." She barely avoided wincing at Carlisle's scoff.
"You try my patience, wife," he said while pinning her with a frosty gaze. "It is my duty to see to your needs and those of my child. You will not defy me in this."
Isabella bristled and set her cup aside while meeting his gaze steadily. She marveled at her sudden temerity. She could never recall a time when she'd been so bold as it was considered unseemly for a woman of the times. Upon reflection, she could only attribute this new burst of rebellion to her added persona of Bella Swan and her decidedly more independent views, but whatever the cause, she would use it. She had to for the safety of her child.
With a bit of steel lacing her tone, she answered him. "I am not averse to being examined, but I will not consent to bloodletting in any form."
Mary cleared her throat and shifted in her seat as the young couple stared each other down, the tension crackling between them only breaking when the doors opened and Gerty entered to announce the arrival of Dr. Whitehall.
"Show him to my chambers Gerty. We'll be along in a moment," Carlisle said as he rose and held out a hand to his wife.
After the barest hesitation, she grasped it and rose while turning to Mary. "Thank you for the company Mary. I shall see you later."
Mary smiled despite the concern in her eyes. "Of course child."
"Mother," Carlisle said with a nod before placing Isabella's hand on his arm to escort her. "I'll see you at dinner."
With that, they left the room and ascended the stairs to their bedchamber where the doctor and Gerty now waited. Pausing at the door, he turned to her and cupped her cheek as his eyes searched hers. "Do not be cross with me," he pleaded before leaning down to brush her lips with his.
Stepping back, she stared into his eyes for a moment before backing through the door. He stood and watched it close with a click before leaning against the wall just beside it to wait, his fingers rubbing his eyes as he released a sigh. Minutes ticked by and he lost himself in thoughts.
He hated that she was angry with him, but he would do anything, including incur her ire, to assure her well-being and that of their child.
He was startled from his thoughts sometime later as the door opened and the doctor walked out. "Lord Cullen," he said with a nod.
"How is she?" he asked with a quick glance into the room before looking back at the amused doctor.
"Hale and hearty young Lord, and so is the child."
Carlisle furrowed his brow. "She looked so ill earlier…"
"Oh, aye, she was. T'was only a fleeting thing however, due to the babe in her belly. Perfectly normal for some, even at this latter stage, I assure you. I've given your maid some herbs to add to her tea. That should take care of it."
Carlisle sighed in relief. "My thanks to you Dr. Whitehall."
The doctor chuckled and patted his shoulder. "My pleasure young Lord. Now, go and see your Lady. I'll show myself out. Good day to you."
"To you as well," Carlisle said with a nod while turning to the door. He entered and nodded to Gerty as she finished tidying and left the room. He stood somewhat awkwardly before moving a chair next to the bed and taking a seat.
He observed silently for a moment as Isabella stared at her hands in her lap, her fingers twisting the edge of the linen sheet. "The doctor says you are well," he said and watched as she frowned before meeting his gaze.
"Just as I said," she reminded, her eyes flashing in indignation.
His lips curved into the barest smile as he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're very stubborn, did you know?"
Her eyes narrowed as she quipped, "Said the pot to the kettle…"
He chuckled with a nod. "My apologies my Lady wife, but I shall never leave your well-being to chance." He leaned forward and took her hand in his. "Will you forgive me?" She looked away and then glanced askance, seeming to think about it. He persisted. "If I were to take you for a stroll before dinner? The day is lovely…" He caught her gaze, his brilliant blue eyes expectant, and she sighed.
"Taking a bit of air does sound lovely…" she murmured and he smiled.
"Good," he said as he rose. "I'll send someone to assist you and await you in the library." He leaned down and kissed her, his lips lingering for a moment as she yielded and returned the kiss. Her eyes fluttered open as he whispered, his sweet breath fanning her cheek as he spoke, "I love you wife."
Her conscience nagged as she watched him smile and leave the room. She was still hesitant to allow herself to feel more than a deep regard for him. It was becoming harder and harder though to stifle the love she worked so diligently to deny; the love that only grew with each day spent with him. The same feelings that warmed her heart also served to terrify her as each day of his twenty third year ticked by.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she called out. "Enter!"
The young maid entered and curtsied. "I'm to help ya dress for an outing my Lady."
With a sigh, Isabella threw back the covers and perched on the edge of the bed. "Yes," she answered. "Nothing too elaborate. I'll just be taking the air with my husband before dinner."
~o0o~
Isabella breathed deeply as she walked along on the arm of her husband, the fresh air and sunshine serving to bolster her spirits and bring a smile to her lips. They'd been strolling for a while now and it had taken time to shake her sullen thoughts and mood from earlier.
"Is that a smile I see on my lady's face?" Carlisle teased while caressing her hand on his arm.
"Your eyes do not fail you my Lord," she said while keeping her gaze forward.
He chuckled. "It gladdens my heart to see it. I feared you would be cross with me for some time yet."
Her smile fell. She didn't like when they disagreed and for the most part, she'd been able to avoid such instances except for the times they spoke of his moonlit hunts. She looked up at him. "I dislike being vexed with you. It unsettles me."
"Aye, I feel the same," he said with a nod.
He patted her hand. "Enough of the unpleasant," he redirected and she agreed with a nod as he looked down with a smile. "I've been thinking of what to name our child."
"Oh?" she questioned. "And have you something in mind?" She peeked at him and saw his grin.
"Well, I was considering William for a son and Elizabeth for a daughter." He glanced at her.
"Does either please you?"
"Hmm," she mused, her eyes sparkling with joy at the thought of their baby. "Will or Beth… yes I do believe I like them."
Her breath caught when she looked at him. His smile was breathtaking and his eyes sparkled with love as he gazed at her. "You fill my heart with joy untold my sweet, beautiful Isabella." He glanced around at the people on the cobbled street before murmuring lowly. "And you make me long for the privacy of our chambers." He lifted her hand to place a lingering kiss on her fingers while his vivid blue eyes burned into her like flames.
She blushed and looked down. "You should not speak so in public my Lord."
His answering laugh was quiet and throaty while his eyes burned with promise. "Till later then my Lady," he said and her cheeks flushed anew even as a pleasant and familiar heat pooled low in her belly.
"Lord Cullen!" A voice unfamiliar to Isabella called out and her husband stopped and turned toward the man who approached.
"Ah, Gideon, good day to you," he greeted and the man smiled and tipped his hat.
"The best of days to you Lord Cullen, Lady Cullen," the man returned. "The lads and I was wonderin' if the hunt is on for this eve?"
Carlisle nodded. "I was delayed in getting back to the church this afternoon to confirm. My apologies, but yes, we will be going out this night."
Isabella sucked in a breath as her heart lurched with dread. Her hold tightened on Carlisle's arm and he glanced at her in concern as the man smiled.
"Very well, I'll let the lads know and we'll be ready." With another tip of his hat, he was off and Carlisle patted her hand as he turned them back toward their home and began walking.
"Must you go?" she asked as her vision blurred with unshed tears.
He tensed and she braced herself for his response. "We have spoken of this. These creatures are evil Isabella and now that I've seen them with my own eyes, yes, I must do my duty as a man of God. I must vanquish them."
A lone tear slipped down her cheek and he handed her his kerchief. "What of your duty as a husband—a father—what of that duty?" She pulled her hand from his arm and dabbed at her eyes. "You'll leave us bereft!"
He frowned and placed her hand back on his arm to continue their walk home. "The hunts are part of my duty to you and our child. While such evil exists, you are not safe." He looked down at her. "You are the wife of a clergyman. You knew what I was when you accepted my suit…"
She yanked her arm from his hold and glared at him. "Do not think me unaware of your distaste with your profession!" she said with quiet vehemence. "I know, if not for your father, you would never have chosen such a life for yourself."
His eyes narrowed and he glanced around at the surreptitious looks they were drawing from the crowds. "Isabella," he warned, "this is not the time nor the place to conduct such a discussion." He held out a hand to her. "Come, let us return home."
Shame quickly overrode her fear and anger upon seeing the attention she'd drawn and she took his arm once again, walking quietly at his side.
She broke the silence as they drew near to their home. "I fear for you," she admitted while looking at the cobblestones. She heard a quiet sigh while he gently squeezed her hand.
"We cannot live our lives in fear. I do the Lord's work. If it is His will, I will prevail. I will not turn aside from it. I cannot." He led her up the steps and into the house where he paused to hang their cloaks before escorting her to their chambers.
She walked to the window and stared out at the people bustling about below as she cried silently. His arms encircled her a moment later and he placed tender kisses on her neck. She tilted her head and shivered as her eyes slowly closed. "I love you," he breathed against her kiss-dampened skin. "I will stay safe…"
She leaned her head back against his shoulder. "No," she whispered too low for him to hear as his kisses continued. "You will not…"
Slowly, his fingers worked the laces on the front of her dress and he stepped back to sweep the garment from her shoulders, leaving her in a loose linen shift.
He turned her toward him and dried her tears with his thumbs as he leaned down and took her lips with his. It was tender and achingly sweet and she sobbed while opening to him fully.
He groaned and pulled her close as his tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her sweetness as she met him eagerly, her passion almost desperate as her hands tangled into his hair. He broke the kiss to trail his lips along her jaw and down her neck, his teeth nipping and tongue soothing the tender flesh as her hands worked to rid him of his coat and shirt.
When she'd loosened the garments, she backed away and swept her hands over his chest and shoulders, taking the clothing with them until the garments fell in a loose pile at his feet. "Beautiful…" she whispered as her hands trailed over his muscled chest. She leaned in and swirled her tongue around his darkened nipple and he gasped and buried his fingers in her luscious curls as his head dropped back while she sucked and nipped at the hardened bud.
"Isabella…" he muttered and she trailed kisses across his chest to give attention to the other side while her fingers worked the laces of his breeches.
She urged him back toward the bed while pushing his breeches down from his hips and he sat and watched with a heated gaze as she knelt and removed his boots and clothing, leaving him bare and ready. "Lie back my Lord," she urged while shedding her knickers and he scooted back against the pillows, his eyes lighting with curiosity as she climbed onto the bed and straddled him, her hands on his shoulders for support as her wet heat rubbed achingly over his hard cock.
He encircled her in his arms and pulled her close, his lips trailing searing kisses along the column of her throat between murmured words. "What do you propose, wife?" he questioned as his hand glided over her swollen belly.
Her face heated at his query. The standard positions Carlisle favored for lovemaking had become somewhat difficult for her as the months progressed and she, as Isabella, had no knowledge of a solution other than Carlisle taking her from behind. While she enjoyed that, she wanted him closer. She wanted to be able to see him…kiss him.
She, as Bella Swan however, did have a solution. Not from practical experience, but from the more liberal society of her time. Therefore, she wanted to try riding astride him, but now she was somewhat hesitant. How could she explain this to her husband?
Feeling him at her entrance, she decided to forego any discussion and wordlessly guided his cock with a hand as she took him into her tight heat with a breathy moan. He drew in a shocked breath before groaning as his hands went instantly to her hips while he thrust up into her.
"Isabella…" he groaned as his head fell back.
With her hands braced against his chest, she began to move slowly over him, tentatively rising and falling until she became adept. Then, she lost herself…
…in the heated look in his eyes as he watched her, his blue gaze hooded with lust as his breath panted out through parted, supple lips…
…in the way he worshiped her with his hands as they reverently glided over her body…
…and the feel of his thick, hard cock filling her time and again as she rode him.
He was perfect…
He was beautiful…
…and her heart ached with the knowledge that she would lose him, even as their passion climbed higher and higher until, with a cry and a groan, they peaked together as he pulled her into a kiss.
He felt her tears on his bare chest and cupped her face in his hands as he drew back to see her. "Why do you weep?" he murmured as he dried her cheeks with gentle fingers.
Averting her gaze, she shook her head and refused to give voice to her fears. She knew it would be for naught if she did, so she chose to remain silent. He'd made his views on his safety clear so instead of risking the same old argument, she tucked her face against his neck and soothed herself in his scent and warmth and the comforting throb of his pulse.
"Isabella?" he questioned. When she remained silent, he laid with her on the bed with a sigh as she curled herself around him. "Do not fear my love. All will be well," he murmured while rubbing her back and she closed her eyes and prayed he spoke the truth as she slowly slipped into sleep.
Carlisle laid with her for a while until his stomach rumbled in protest. "Isabella?" he shook her gently, trying to wake her for dinner but she merely grumbled and pushed his hands away as he quietly laughed. "Very well my love," he said as he sat up. "I'll leave you to your rest." A quiet hmm was her only response so he rose from the bed, covered her with a quilt and dressed for dinner. He would need the nourishment for the long night ahead.
Giving his cravat one final tug, he leaned down and kissed her softly. "Sleep well my Lady," he said before turning and leaving the room.
~o0o~
When he entered the dining room he hesitated for a moment, seeing only his father at the table. "Good evening Father. Is mother unwell?" he asked as he moved into the room and took his seat. A look and a grunt was Charles's only response as Carlisle unfolded his linen napkin and placed it in his lap.
A blushing serving girl placed the soup course before him and he whispered a prayer of thanks before beginning his meal in silence as his father eyed him over the rim of his wine glass.
"I'm told your wife is unwell?" Charles finally questioned, breaking the tense silence.
"She is merely resting. She was weary from our walk. I'll have dinner sent up to her later."
"Hmph," the older man grunted. "She seems a frail one, like your mother. Too frail to produce an acceptable heir."
Carlisle tensed and a muscle jumped in his cheek as he reached for his glass. After taking a slow sip, he met his father's mocking gaze. "She is fine father, just a bit tired," he said as he commenced eating.
After some moments, Charles raised his glass with a poisonous smirk. "As you say…son."
Carlisle's spoon clattered into his empty bowl and he motioned to the fidgeting serving girl. "Clear this, I am ready for the next course."
She dipped a curtsy. "Yes my Lord," she gushed as she cleared the bowl away and replaced it with the main course moments later.
"I expect true results from this night's hunt. I grow weary of your continued failures Carlisle. My patience wanes dangerously."
Carlisle clenched the hand that rested in his lap as he struggled to stifle his mounting anger. "We do the Lord's work in the Lord's time. Be it His will, we will see success."
Charles's eyes flashed with anger. "Our Lord helps those who help themselves. His work is never accomplished without effort, despite His holy will."
Carlisle slammed his fork onto the table while staring into his lap. "Every full moon I go on the hunt! In addition to my daily work at the church! Is that not effort enough for you?! You can demand no more from me!"
"Watch your words and tone with me my son. I am your father and you will honor and obey me without question," Charles seethed.
Carlisle dropped his head in instant deference, a lifetime of harsh conditioning under Charles's strap quelling his anger and spirit as he conceded. "As you say Father."
"Do not make the mistake of thinking you're too old to be chastened should I choose to do so." He paused for effect.
"Do not come back until you have killed or captured some of the evil that roams this city. I'll send you out every night if needs be, not just on the full moon, am I understood?"
"Yes Father," Carlisle answered even as his fist clenched so hard his nails drew blood in his palm.
"Good," Charles grunted while lifting his wine glass. "You've eaten enough. Be gone with you. Our Lord knows it won't hurt you to get an early start."
Carlisle placed his napkin by his plate and rose from his seat. Turning to his father, he bowed. "A very pleasant evening to you Father," he said before turning to the serving girl.
"Please deliver dinner to my wife in my chambers and see to any other needs she may have. I will be very late this evening."
"Yes my Lord," she squeaked with a curtsy as Carlisle turned and left the room.
Snatching his cloak from the rack in the foyer, he donned it and yanked the door open, slamming it behind him when he'd exited. Furious didn't begin to describe what he felt at the moment and his long strides saw him to his destination in no time.
Throwing open the heavy oak doors, he strode down the center aisle of the empty church. He fell to his knees in front of the altar while staring up at the imposing moonlit cross as if it held all the answers. "Why does he hate me so?" he begged as years of pain and tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. "Will I never meet his expectations? Am I ever doomed to failure in his eyes? Why Lord… Why?"
He doubled over on himself, his forehead resting on his knees as he wept, his shoulders heaving with sobs as he finally broke and allowed himself to vent his pain and sorrow.
When the pain had dulled and the tears run out, he sat up and stared straight ahead while the silence, both in the church and his heart overwhelmed him. 'Where is God?' he thought, his mental tone bitter. 'Why are there never any answers for me? Never any respite…' Shame filled him almost instantly as his thoughts turned to all the less fortunate souls that he ministered to daily. Families with not enough to eat or the coin to keep clothes on their backs… 'Forgive me Lord,' he prayed. 'Let me always be mindful of your many blessing upon my life.'
With that, he rose and retrieved a flint from the tinderbox to light a candle. When he'd done so, he knelt back at the altar and began to pray in earnest. He prayed for safety and prosperity for his parish, he prayed for his wife and child, he prayed that God would touch and soften his father's heart and lastly he prayed for success in the hunt. 'Father, allow me to find these creatures of evil and rout them from our midst. In Christ's holy name, I pray, amen,' he finished as he crossed himself and rose to his feet.
"Lord Cullen?"
He wiped the tears from his face and turned. "Good eve Gideon," he greeted.
"To you as well," his parishioner answered with a nod. "The lads are ready and waiting my Lord."
"Good, we'll pray and commence the hunt," he said as they walked from the church and closed the doors.
~o0o~
Isabella awoke to the smell of food just as her door closed softly. She sat up and peered around the darkened room, profoundly feeling the absence of her husband. 'So, he's gone to the hunt already,' she thought.
Sliding to the side of the bed, she stood and slipped her discarded knickers on under her shift before sitting at the small table where her dinner tray sat. Lifting the cover from the plate, she took up her fork and, after a quick prayer of thanks, began eating. While she ate, her thoughts fixed on the danger her husband was facing, yet again and her appetite vanished. Placing her fork down, she reached for the tea pot and poured a steaming cup of the brew, picked it up and took a bracing sip. "Much better," she muttered as the mildly bitter brew washed away the nauseating taste of her dinner. The food was excellent as usual but she couldn't manage it through her stomach clenching fear that seemed to worsen by the minute.
Rising from her seat, she began to pace, her bare feet padding quietly, back and forth across the open space of the room as her chest tightened and her hands shook. "What is wrong with me?" she questioned as she paused and stared at her unsteady hands. She crossed her arms over her chest and resumed pacing.
She'd always feared for him on such nights, but never to this degree and she wasn't sure how to quell it. "Husband," her trembling voice whispered. "Will this be the night?" Tears fell from her eyes as pain of anticipated loss nearly crippled her. "I cannot bear it!" she sobbed as her eyes fell on her discarded dress. Hope bloomed in her chest and she took it up and began to dress, her trembling fingers barely able to tighten the laces.
"I will stop this," she vowed to the silence as her hand caressed her rounded belly. "I will save him and change our fate. I will not have you grow up without a father."
So saying, she pulled on her shoes, crept down the stairs and snuck out of the house, pausing only long enough to don her heavy cloak before slipping out into the night.
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.