89Prologue
I knew my father was an important man. Because of his position, many finely dressed people visited our home on a regular basis. But I was never around to meet them. I was a child-a girl child at that-and it was not my place. So I was surprised when my presence was required in my sixth summer.
That morning during lessons my mother did not pay attention to what I was saying. And she allowed me to quit early. I was so excited because after lunch I was dressed in my best clothes. It was pretty and white and I felt like a princess. I giggled and laughed and twirled around my dressing room until I was so dizzy I fell over. Then Mother put an end to my fun. She told me I needed to calm down so I would not hurt myself. And I knew how to act like a lady, so behave! Important people were coming today to see me, and I needed to show them I was the most perfect little thing that could be asked for. Was I up to the task?
I am up to the task. I know that I can behave and make my parents proud of me. If I do not, then I will be in lots of trouble later, and I do not want that. Last time I was in trouble, Father tanned my backside. Sitting for lessons was painful for the next two days after that episode.
After my talking to, Mother lead me into the receiving room. Father did most of his business in here, and I had only been allowed in twice before. Surely I must be a grown up now! But my excitement was soon quashed when I noticed two men in the room I did not know. They were both old, but one looked older than old-like my grandfather used to look like.
The grandfather was talking to Father, but the other old one was looking at me. He came over to me. I wanted to hide behind Mother, but I knew that would not be allowed.
"Hi," he said with a smile. This was embarrassing. I had never talked to a man before. Only my older brother, and he did not count. "How old are you?" he asked after a pause. Blushing I held up six fingers, then I did hide behind my mother.
"Isabella!" Father said sternly, "you know better manners." I immediately came out of my hiding place.
The grandfather laughed. "Oh Charles," he said, "she has plenty of time to grow out of it. Speaking of time, can you not be persuaded to push up the marriage a couple years? I know that Edward will be wanting wife sooner rather than later."
I did not know what this meant. Who was getting married? I had never been allowed to go to wedding, but I hoped I would be allowed to attend this one. All the paintings and sculptures I had seen of them made them look like lovely and fun parties!
"She can not be too young," answered Father. "But I suppose a year would not hurt anything. I imagine it would be alright to formally announce the betrothal when she turns thirteen." The grandfather looked pleased at this.
The other man smiled at me again. "I can not wait to see you again Isabella," he said. And then he walked over the join Father and the grandfather.
By this time I was tugging on my mother's hand, ready to leave. If this was how men were, no wonder I never talked to them before. They were silly and made no sense. No, it was better if I did not talk to them again.
A/N: Before anyone is too grossed out over an old Edward and a young Bella I want to say this. Edward is not really old! Little kids tend to perceive the world in ways that adults do not. For instance, when I was six I thought that eighth graders were so awesome and high schoolers were adults who were probably married and had children of their own. Therefore, never fear: Edward is only old in the eyes of a six year old.
I would also like to add that the subsequent chapters will be longer. This was only the prologue, and as we all know, not much ever happens in those silly things ;)
On another, slightly related note, I will most likely be changing the name. I just have not found one that made think, "Aha that's the one!" But I am unhappy with this one. Because this story will be a little teensy bit dark and I feel that the current title does not portray that.
Also, if anyone is interested in beta-ing for me, that would be greatly appreciated. Even as I am posting this I am finding errors. Eek! I am not expecting this story to be particularly long, if that is a concern.
(I always said that I would not be one of those people whose author's notes were longer than the story . . . seems I am not off to a good start.)