It's time you and I spend our honeymoon....
As she sat in Wellington coach, Lexa felt her heart flutter when she remembered what Edward had said to her. Oh God! She couldn't forget the serious dark look that he had given her when he said that, and the shiver that when down her spine in a cold rush reminded her of her own womanhood. It also reminded her of the man that Edward was.
He was sitting in front of her, his eyes closed in deep sleep. She noticed that he had beautiful long lashes that when closed created half-moon shadows on his cheeks. He looked like he had shaved, for his afternoon shadow was gone. He was breathing steadily and his lips were slightly parted. His soft lips that she had kissed many times before. She was tempted to go over beside him and kiss him. And she wanted to kiss him.
He shifted and sighed as he opened his dark hazel eyes, the flecks of green and blue becoming more profound. Lexa felt her heart hammer as she turned her face to look out the window to watch the moving trees and landscape.
"This seat is bloody uncomfortable," Edward muttered as he yawned and straightened himself up.
Lexa then turned to him and said, "Why are you so tired? Did you not sleep last night?"
Edward snorted, "Not when I have to manage this estate and the other two."
"You don't have to do it alone," Lexa said, without thinking, "You have me now."
Edward fell silent for moment, and then thoughtfully smiled at her, and said, "I do indeed."
Lexa felt herself blush. When he smiled and his eyes sparkled, it made her breathless
"Have you ever been to Scotland?" Lexa asked her husband, stalling herself into a conversation.
Edward looked at his wife and said, "Yes, but I haven't been there for a long time."
"I have," said Lexa, "Every summer at my father's estate until my seventeenth birthday. Then I went to America."
"One day, I'll want to tell me of your tales in America." Edward said.
"It really it isn't interesting," Lexa mused, thoughtfully. then she turned to look out the window, and realized that she was unsure of were they where. she knew that they passed London awhile ago.
"Nothing is uninteresting when it comes to you," Edward said, "Especially when everyone knows you, Miss Pierce."
Lexa merely looked at him, and then turned to watch the passing roads. "Where are we?" she asked.
Edward turned to look out the window, and said, "We are in Yorkshire."
Lexa thoughtfully hummed at that then said, as she lowering herself down on the cushion of the carriage seat. She lay down and them muttered, "I'll sleep then. Wake me when we get there, will you?"
Edward nodded, quietly, and then she closed her eyes.
Lexa felt she was afloat when she cracked open her eyes. Drowsily, it took a while to understand that she was being carried. Awake and alert, Lexa gasped as she looked up to see Edward's face. Her heart was pounding as continued to walk towards a white brick manor. Lexa wrapped arms around him, fearing that now that she was awake, he would drop her.
Edward turned his head to face her, and embarrassed, Lexa turned her face and hid it in his shirt. Subconsciously, she inhaled his scent, and asked, "Did you really need to carry me?"
"I couldn't help myself," Edward replied, and she felt his lips brush her hair. He really had no idea what he was doing to her. Her heart was reacting to him. It was a possibility that she could end up falling in love with him. He said something else, but as Lexa lifted her head, blinked, and asked, "What did you say?"
"I said, you looked so beautiful sleeping peacefully it was a crime to wake you up," he replied, "So I carried you, princess."
Lexa felt her cheek heat up from her blush, and licking her lips, she asked, "And are you my prince, Lord Douro?"
Edward smiled, and his hazel eyes sparkled in humor and Lexa could see blue flecks in his eyes. "I'll be your prince."
When they got to the front steps of the manor, Edward gently set her down, and knocked on the door. It took three seconds when the door was opened, and a red-haired man wearing a kilt appeared. The man looked at him, and said, "Laird Douro."
"McAllister," Edward said nodding in acknowledgement.
McAllister moved his eyes to Lexa and asked, "Is this Lady Douro, 'is Grace mentioned?"
"Yes," said Edward, "My wife and your new mistress, Alexandra Wellesley, Marchioness of Douro."
He then turned to Lexa, and said, "This is our butler, Malcolm McAllister."
Lexa turned to McAllister, and offering her hand, said, "How do you do?"
"A please to meet ye, milady," said McAllister, gruffly, as he kissed her hand.
Lexa nodded to him, and said, smoothly, "Pleasure is mine, McAllister."
McAllister nodded and then turned to Edward, "Shall I have yer chambers prepared for ye and Lady Douro?"
Edward consented what McAllister offered, and a few minutes later, Lexa and Edward where shown their shared bedchambers. Their travel luggage were brought inside their rooms, and Lexa sighed as she sat on the edge of the bed, and watched as Edward shrug off his overcoat, revealing his massively large broad shoulders.
He slowly turned to her and smiled, weakly, before asked, "Do you wish to explore the lowlands or continue sleeping?"
"I'll explore," said Lexa, "Once roused from sleep it difficult for me to fall back asleep."
"Is it?" Edward asked, "Do you sleep very lightly?"
"Sometimes," Lexa replied. Pausing, she looked at her brand-new husband, and questioned, "and you? Are you a light sleeper?"
"Only when overwhelmed by stress," Edward answered as he hung his overcoat on the wooden rack beside the dresser, "Other than that, I sleep quite well."
"Mmm," said Lexa, thoughtfully, "Shall we head off?"
Not far from Monroe House was a preserved by decaying abbey which housed a small Anglican church beside it. Lexa glanced at the abbey, fascinated by it as she and Edward walked around it. The many abbeys that were decorated across Great Britian have always fascinated her. Ever since, she was a child, and visited Tintern Abbey with her father and grandfather, she had a fascination with the vast ancient ruins that populated England.
This abbey, Cambuskenneth was in complete ruin, and the only thing that survived from it was the bell tower. She had passed this abbey many times as a childhood, as a route to her father's Scottish estate. Lexa clutched to Edward's arm, and as he turned to her, she looked up t him, and said, "This is the first time I've been to this abbey."
"Have you been to other abbeys?" Edward asked, as he looked up at the bell tower.
"Other than Westminster?" Lexa replied, amusedly
Edward turned to wife, and nodded, "Other than Westminster," he replied
"I have been to Tintern Abbey. The one where William Wordsworth composed the famous poem."
"My mother took me there," mused Edward, "while I was living in Wales."
And there it was. The mention of his mother, Lexa thought.
First mention of the painting; now the mention of Wales. Whatever, it was that happened to him in Wales, that involved his mother was puzzling Lexa. It was such a touchy subject that even the servants were forbidden to talk about it.
"Lexa?"
Lexa, pulled out of her thoughts, looked at her husband, at his hazel eyes that looked so much like Phoebe's, said, "Yes?"
"Are you well? You look a bit melancholy," Edward said.
"Oh, it's nothing," said Lexa. "Shall we get on?"
"Of course," Edward said.
After touring the bell tower, Lexa decided that she would like to see the church. Edward, without complaint, for he was being a dear husband, led her inside the Church of St. Andrews where they were led down the aisle to the wooden stand. There on the stand was an open book, and Lexa recognized that was a recording book for the local village nearby.
"I do remember these," Lexa said, as she flipped through the pages, "Everything is recorded here. Baptisms, marriages, deaths."
Edward peered over and said, "I'll be outside when you are done looking at this."
Because his tone suggested that was not interested, Lexa rolled her eyes, and shooed him away. Lexa opened her clutch that she held and took out her glasses and placed them on.
As she flipped through the pages, a name caught her eye.
Phoebe Victoria Georgiana Llewellyn, date of birth: August the 28, 1863. Baptism October 5, 1863. Father: unknown, mother: Charlotte Llewellyn. Place of birth: Cambuskenneth, Scotland
Interesting. Why was Phoebe's name recorded in a parish in Scotland? Phoebe had aid that was American by birth, but from Lexa could see was that Phoebe was in fact British. This wasn't adding up to anything, and the mysterious connection between Phoebe and Edward was only getting more and more confusing. The only clue she had was, the question of who Edward's mother was and who Phoebe's father was.
Lexa closed the book and then looked up to see an elderly man in front of her. She gasped, and the old man raised his hand in peace, "Bless you my child, I meant you no fright."
"It's okay," Lexa mused.
"I didn't I would see you again, Charlotte."
Charlotte? "Beg your pardon Father, but my name is Alexandra, not Charlotte."
The elderly man, who looked to be nearing his eighth decade, bowed his head, "I have thought long and hard about what you did, Charlotte. To deny your husband's right to his daughter. Agreeing to this, you made scheme has caused me to be in repentance. For how can I know that I have sin as a man of God?"
Lexa couldn't believe it. Was the elderly pastor confessing to her? Lexa began to slowly walk away.
"Don't go, Charlotte? How you live with yourself? How can I live with myself?"
Fearing the old man's state of sanity, Lexa fled the church and then made her way to find Edward, only to crash into it.
Grabbing her, but her shoulders, Edward steadied her, and asked, "Lexa, what's wrong?"
"I think I would like to go home," Lexa immediately said. Edward felt confused by his wife sudden change of mood, nodded. When they got home, he would quiet her.
As for her part, Lexa was not sure that she even wanted to talk to Edward about what just happened.