Disclaimer: It all belongs to SM. I don't claim any credit except for this plot.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy the chapter and send me any questions you may have.

It wasn't. It couldn't be. I refuse to believe that I had just been caught staring at a Duke. Good gracious, wasn't that exactly what mama had insisted I avoid?

An uncomfortable lump formed in my throat and I tried swallowing it to no avail. I was fanning myself desperately now, sure that little beads of sweat were dotting my forehead.

"Bella, my dear, you look awfully flushed, shall I fetch you a glass of punch?"

I looked at papa and could barely register his words. What did he just say to me? Oh, darn it all…I nodded my head tentatively and he seemed satisfied with my answer as he went strolling off, parting the crowd with an ease and confidence that came with his age.

"Miss Swan, how are you enjoying London this season?"

I dragged my eyes away from Lord Swan's retreating form and eyed the man who had spoken to me; one of papa's old friends if I could recall correctly. He was around papa's age certainly; swarthy visage, sagging chin and a rounded physique which seemed on the verge of bursting the seams of his garish evening jacket.

Lord Crowhurst. Yes, that was it. Shaking my head to rid myself of the other uncharitable thoughts, I answered as demurely as I could, which meant a general agreeable response about enjoying the seasonable weather.

It was a blatant lie of course; the start of the traditional London season occurred around late summer and the weather had been muggy enough to carry the putrid smells of the slums to even the most well-heeled areas of Mayfair, Belgravia and St. James.

Lord Crowhurst chortled as if I had said something amusing and continued on in a blustering manner.

"Aye. Good good, I was wondering when Charles would show London his cloistered little daughter."

I was tempted to argue. I wasn't cloistered. Yorkshire wasn't exactly the North Pole, I hadn't lacked for company at all, in fact, I think I quite liked Yorkshire society infinitely more than the pomp of London.

I murmured noncommittally and the earl chortled again.

"A good quiet girl, you are." The man was staring and fortunately this time, I had the presence of mind to lower my eyes. "Modest little mouse…good good."

A mouse. Yes well, I suppose that seemed like a fair comparison. I was all brown after all; brown hair, brown eyes. I had no vanity to uphold so his comment failed to disturb me. I gave him a weak smile which must had come off as a sign of timidity because he nodded to me approvingly once more.

Lord Crowhurst stared a moment longer and I began to feel uncomfortable in my own skin, more so than usual. I watched as he took a deep breath, his chest puffing up and straining the seams of his waistcoat. I was sorely tempted to ask him for the name of his tailor, the man must be some sort of genius to be able to make such sturdy clothing.

"Miss Swan," He began hesitantly, flushing slightly for whatever reason I could not fathom. "Your father tells me, you enjoy embroidery, tell me, have you…"

What was the man talking about? Embroidery was an exercise in mass blood loss for me, both papa and mama could attest to that. In fact, I was quite sure I had not touched my sewing basket in close to a year, perhaps two; fortunately I was saved from answering when a tall figure approached our circle. Lord Crowhurst turned immediately to the newcomer, and with all the pomp and ceremony he could muster, the man bowed.

I could swear I heard a seam tear and took a discreet look around the circle to see if anyone else had heard it too. If they had, none showed it, the group of somewhat middle-aged lords were all staring steadily at the newcomer.

Merciful father in heaven, what was so interesting about…oh…

I was staring into the fathomless green eyes again, only this time, he was much, much closer. In fact, he was standing just beyond Lord Crowhurst's wide girth. The earl might have been speaking gibberish for all I cared as I couldn't have heard a single word of it even if he had been screaming at the top of his lungs.

The green-eyed gentleman seemed to pay no attention either as he was resolutely locked in our little impolite stare off. His formerly serious mouth was set in a charmingly crooked grin.

Ah. Perhaps someone had heard the ripping noise after all. As if he had read my thoughts, the gentleman glanced pointedly at Lord Crowhurst's right shoulder, inviting me to follow his bright gaze.

I obliged him willingly and bit my lip to suppress the rising mirth.

Lo and behold, there was a rip after all; at the seam of where the sleeve connected to the rest of the appalling jacket, an edge of snowy white shirt showing through.

Oh dear…was it polite in such a situation to point out the fashion malfunction to Lord Crowhurst? I decided against it and glanced away instead. I didn't want to meet the green-eyed gaze again; I was unprepared for the humour which lurked deep in those eyes.

"Perhaps you would introduce us, Crowhurst." A deep and unfamiliar voice caused me to snap my attention back. It was a pleasant voice I decided, deep and just husky enough to allow a certain air of mystery. Comforting yet unnerving, a contradiction surely…but it was what it was.

The earl, interrupted mid-speech, seemed flustered for only a moment, blubbering bemusedly before he regained his verbal pace.

"Ahem, yes." Crowhurst turned to me again. "Your Grace, may I present Miss Isabella Swan, daughter of Baron Torrington, formerly of Yorkshire."

I was tempted to release the long-suffering sigh which rose in my throat, I hated formal introductions. Instead, I lowered myself into what I hoped was a graceful curtsey. Darn, I almost forgot that it was custom to curtsey more deeply to a duke.

Sinking more deeply into the polite courtly gesture was not a good idea. I wobbled a little but managed to raise myself into an erect position before I embarrassed myself further.

The corners of his eyes were crinkled in mild amusement. Ah. So he had noticed the ungainly gesture.

"Miss Swan, I have the honour of introducing you to his Grace, Lord Edward Cullen, Duke of Aubyn." The man in question bowed dutifully, an effortlessly elegant movement which could only have been bred from generations of the finest aristocratic blood. The man was darn near enviable.

"A pleasure, Miss Swan." The husky voice murmured in finely cultured tones.

Oh dear. I wasn't quite sure how to reply, was this where I sink into another curtsey or was I meant to simper? No, surely that wasn't it.

A rather flustering awkward silence enveloped our circle and I had the firm impression that I was meant to respond in kind but nothing would leave my mouth as if my voice was trapped within my throat.

"Isabella!" Oh, thank goodness. I was never gladder to hear Renee's shrill voice cutting through the hum of the surrounding conversation. "Isabella! Where have you been, I've been looking for you all over; Lady Dennison wants to introduce you to her son…"

Mama trailed off as she caught sight of the company. She never did like papa's friends. She thought they were a bunch of blustery windbags…not that she ever said it aloud; however crass she could be sometimes, Lady Swan knew when to hold her tongue.

After curtseying to the crowd of aging gentlemen, I watched as mama sunk into a deep and flawless curtsey, acknowledging the Duke before turning a frosty, barely concealed glare upon his handsome…beautiful visage. Goodness…why on earth was mama being so hostile?

"Your Grace." Renee muttered grudgingly.

"My Lady." His Grace returned formally. His tone polite with no hint of the hostility mama showed.

"I knew your mother, the former Duchess of Aubyn. May I offer my sincerest condolences for hers and your father's unfortunate passing?" Renee words seemed more accusing than sincere. "It must have been a very…sudden shock."

My eye flickered between mama and the Duke. What on earth…why was mama so…

The Duke replied, completely unflustered. "It was very sad and terribly sudden. I miss my parents dearly; thank you for your concern." He turned his attention back towards me and I felt the full force of those eyes once more…my God, were they gold or green?

It was a clear dismissal of the subject at hand but Renee, normally so attuned to subtle nuances of polite conversation, ploughed on blithely.

"You were away in the barbarian lands when you received the news were you not?"

A hint of something inexplicable slipped into his expression and I watched as his eyes seemed to lose the last fragments of green and completely became that unearthly gold.

"Indeed I was," The Duke murmured without a hint of emotion. "I was sorry to have been so far from home when it occurred. When the news reached me, they had already perished and been committed to the ground."

"A terrible accident was it not?" Mama's tone was beginning to bite harshly and the surrounding Lords and Ladies had paused in their conversations to watch the conflict like bloodhounds eager for a kill.

Though I could not fathom Renee's purpose in pursuing such a morbid topic at the ball, I could see that this was a matter of some interest to the ton. Lord Aubyn did not bat an eyelash; he seemed completely nonchalant, as if we were discussing the weather rather than the death of his parents.

"Yes. It was." He seemed to have nothing more to say on the subject as he turned resolutely away from Renee and stepped closer to me.

The gold of his eyes were nearly glowing now, a frightening sort of fury lurking and lighting that unnerving gaze. None of it showed in his movements however as he bowed and took my gloved hand.

A curious sort of tension coiled in my hand and I fought the urge to close my fingers tightly around his. As if reading my thoughts, his clasped mine in a tight grip and began leading me away.

"Come, Miss Swan, I believe this is my set." He murmured as he began to pull me towards the crowded ballroom.

I balked. No! I did not dance well…and he had not even asked!

A waltz was beginning and a flurry of panic lit like a flame within my chest. Oh merciful heavens…a waltz! I was a positive disaster at the waltz; my dance instructor had nervously insisted I avoid the dance at all costs while he had nursed his poor feet; and he the right of it…I simply couldn't…

"Your Grace! I'm…well…" I searched my mind desperately for a reason to excuse myself from the dance and my eyes quickly alighted upon the crowded dance floor with something akin to desperation.

"Look!" I gestured frantically toward throng of couples. "It really would be quite a crush, and with this awful heat, a dance would be terribly inelegant."

Lord Aubyn did not even pause in his confident stride. "It won't be a problem." He assured. And it wasn't. As if like magic, the sea of aristocrats parted as he moved through them, creating an intimate little circle of space at the centre of the dance floor.

I was gaping in the most unladylike manner when I felt him draw to a halt within this circle of space and turn to face me.

"Any other complaints, Miss Swan?"

I blushed to the roots of my hair and searched frantically for another excuse. Ah-ha!

"I'm afraid I have not attended Almack's as of yet and I have not sought the permission of the patronesses to waltz…thus you see it would be extremely inappropriate for me to waltz with you and shirk…"

"You are not missing much, Miss Swan." He interrupted mildly. "The punch is weak, the food is near inedible and the dance floor is appallingly uneven…besides, my dearest aunt Esme is a patroness of that particular marriage mart and she would be more than happy to vouch for you."

He raised my hand to rest it within his and stepped closer, wrapping a lithely muscular arm around my waist. Heat sped through me like fed flames as his legs brushed my ball gown as he pulled me almost inappropriately close.

"You best hold your skirts, Miss Swan, less you trip over them."

I glanced around quickly and copied the other ladies standing around me within the circle of their gentlemen's arms and lifted the white silk just enough to ensure I wouldn't step on them during the waltz.

"Your Grace…I'm afraid I really don't dance terribly well." I confessed as a last desperate measure, my eyes pleading with his. Curious…the intense gold was fading into that deep emerald once more.

His lips curved into a crooked grin and my back stiffened in embarrassment. Damn the man, he would find my misery amusing…

"It's too late for such reservations I'm afraid, Miss Swan."

As if waiting for his cue, the tuning orchestra began the waltz in earnest, the sorrowful strains of the cello mingling with the lively leading tune of the violins.

"Watch me, Miss Swan, not your feet." He murmured; his voice, while quiet, carried easily over the music.

As he began to lead me in graceful swirls around the floor in time with the music, his eyes met and locked with mine and my sense deserted me at once. Oh dear. My feet moved seemingly without any conscious thought on my part and I moved in perfect synch with his. As we spun, his long legs crushed my skirts and brushed my thighs, sending the heat swirling through the hazy daze in my mind.

Oh God. No wonder so many considered the waltz scandalous.

He felt it too. I could see the knowledge in his eyes, the pleased spark alight within his eyes; but instead of moving to a more respectful distance, I felt the arm around my waist tense and pull me closer, the long elegant fingers spreading out possessively along the small of my back.

I flushed nervously and gasped at the sensation.

His keen ears seemed to have caught the sound and as I watched on curiously, the emerald fragments of his eyes gave way to gold once more, good God! What manner of devilish trick was this?

I was tempted to struggle in his grasp but I was afraid to lose my rhythm within in the waltz and that would surely end in disaster. Instead, I opted for glaring at him.

"Sir," I whispered emphatically between clenched teeth. "You go too far!"

The nerve of him, he simply chuckled deeply, sending a fission of dark dread snaking into my stomach.

"My parents are watching." I tried again.

"So is the rest of ton I suspect." He added with satisfaction, his eyes gleaming down at me.

"You are trying to ruin me!" I accused.

The impertinent man just chuckled again. "Come now, Isabella. No one can be ruined by a simple waltz. I'm not that talented."

I gasped indignantly, suddenly feeling wildly out of control of my own nerves. Heaven knows I must be as red as a tomato by now.

"I did not give you leave to use my Christian name. To do so is a most offensive assumption of intimacy! And one can certainly be ruined by a dance…"

There was an intensely dark flicker within his eyes.

"I believe you are thinking of a more primal form of dance, Miss Swan."

His eyes became hooded as if to shield me from his thoughts but he need not have bothered; I remember reading all those anatomy books from papa's library and sneaking those novels mama so favoured. I had a fair idea of what went on between a man and a woman in the darkness of their private rooms.

I began struggling in earnest within the iron firm circle of his arms.

"Now, now Miss Swan, no need to fan the flames of gossip; I'm afraid leaving me in the middle of our waltz will do you no favours. It would be somewhat suggestive of inappropriate doings, wouldn't you say?" There was no amusement in his eyes despite his light teasing tone, only that damnable intensity as his eyes held mine firmly.

"You are trying to ruin me!" I accused once more.

Lord Edward released a faux long suffering sigh and dipped his head dangerously close to mine; his face coming too close for comfort.

"No, my dear Isabella, for that purpose I would have kissed you already."

An indignant squeak escaped my lips as I clutched his hand in what I hoped was a painful grip, my thoughts taking a rather vengeful tenor.

"The only thing stopping me," he continued, seemingly oblivious to my grip. "Is that I haven't quite decided if I would rather have you for my mistress or my wife."

I saw red. Perhaps this was why mama disliked him so. The man was a scoundrel…an absolute rogue.

"I know you rakes enjoy ruining innocent women, but I won't be one of them! I won't lie down and take it, do you understand me?" I hissed. God, I hoped the movements of the dance concealed my clearly hostile expression, mama always said I was easier to read than an open book.

"What an interesting choice of words." The spark in his eyes turned into a barely controlled simmer of heat. "I would advise against resistance Isabella, you will only make me all that more determined." He paused contemplatively. "Perhaps I should kiss you now, your parents would be most happy to accept me when I petition for your hand."

Anger warred with fear in my heart and tears of frustration began stinging my eyes. I blinked them away quickly, cursing myself for the weakness but he was quick and observant.

"Do not cry dearest, would you not love to be a Duchess? Silks, ribbons, pearls and diamonds…perhaps a barouche with a matching set of greys…" His voice was harsh and unforgiving as if I had done something horrendous. "…A townhouse in St. James Square, a Palace in Cornwall? Well?"

I was breathing harshly, my eyes narrowed. "I want nothing from you!" Good Lord! When was this damnable waltz going to end? The anger simmering in my heart demanded I reach out and slap that expression from his face but I would only make a spectacle of myself and God knows how that could turn out…but any longer in his hold and I might just lose my temper.

Mercifully, the waltz began to draw to a soaring conclusion and Lord Edward had lowered his eyes from mine. As the final notes rung out, I was relieved to be released from the cage of his arms and ready to flee when we stopped by the edge of the dance floor, near the rim of spectators, consisting mostly of the society matrons and keen gossip-mongers (much of the older gentlemen had likely retreated to the card room) watching keenly and analysing every move we made.

I began pulling away, my expression of fury barely concealed beneath the fallible veneer of polite interest. He saw right past it but the pleasant smile remained on his arrogant countenance as he held firm to my gloved hand.

"Thank you for the honour of the dance, Miss Swan." He said clearly, suddenly all beguiling charm and smiles. "Will you allow me the pleasure of calling on you tomorrow at your home?"

The breath escaped between my clenched teeth in a hiss just as a collective gasp came from the surrounding spectators who were all watching the scene with avid interest; none of them even bothered to conceal their blatant eavesdropping.

There was no way out of such a situation. To deny a powerful Duke so publicly would be social suicide…mama would never forgive me…dear God, papa would never forgive me. I resisted the urge to bare my teeth and hiss…it would undoubtedly be considered gauche.

With considerable reluctance, I nodded my assent, not trusting myself to speak polite words.

The ass had the nerve to smile…quite charmingly in fact and the surrounding ladies released a collective sigh.

"Until tomorrow then…by and by, Miss Swan, you dance very well." He kissed my gloved fingers lingeringly and gave me a heady look before disappearing into the crowd.

It was only then that I realised I had danced well…not a single stumble or graceless tumble. Damn the man! I was breathing heavily I realised and tried to quickly calm myself and cool the fierce angry blush upon my cheeks.

Oh God. I lifted my head and instantly found mama's furious form marching towards me as papa trailed worriedly behind. Oh no…no, no, no…

Acting on instinct I turned and fled into the crowds. I could not answer mama's questions now…I had not the energy to lie convincingly.

I wasn't watching where I was going; I cared only to find an isolated spot to collect my scattered wits. At one point, I caught sight of the arrogant scoundrel once more standing near a burly gentleman with a magnificent blonde beauty on his arm and turned quickly before he saw me.

It wasn't long however before I found an empty corridor and slid open one of the unlocked doors to find a small parlour with a damask chaise lounge. Closing the door behind me, I allowed myself to sink unceremoniously onto the couch, crushing the white silk beneath me.

"Bella."

I screamed; my heart in my throat as I leapt to my feet and swivelled to face the intruder upon my peace. When my eyes alighted upon the figure, framed by the moonlit backdrop, I lowered my tensed shoulders.

"Goodness Angela…you frightened me."

The girl smiled quietly and came forward, clasping my hands in greeting before dropping to the chaise gently, pulling me down beside her.

"What has you in such agitation, Bella?" She asked, concern lacing her voice.

For a moment, I considered confessing it all to her, but the idea was quickly swept from my mind. No, I would never be comfortable sharing such things with anyone, so instead, I shook my head gently.

"I dislike this ball greatly." I said.

Angela nodded, her curls bobbing with her movements. "As do I…I hate these things, but mama simply cannot accept that I'm a wall flower, no gentleman ever takes an interest in me."

I allowed myself a bitter chuckle. "Count yourself fortunate." I said with false cheer. "Or you might find yourself receiving some rather unwelcome advances."

Angela laughed gaily along with me, oblivious to my mood. "How right you are." She sent me a sheepish glance. "But I suppose hiding in here is not inducive to attracting attention. I should return before mama accuses me of deliberately vexing her."

She rose from the seat and straightened her skirt quickly. "Come along Bella; let us enjoy what is left of the night."

I shook my head, breathing deeply. "No, you go ahead Angela. I will come find you later."

But I didn't. In fact, I sought no one for the last hour of the ball, I wandered around aimlessly, avoiding mama and deliberately avoiding any sign or mention of Lord Edward.

It didn't help however.

Every other moment, I would feel that suspicious itch at the back of my scalp. That familiar feeling of being watched would descend upon me once more and I would shrug my shoulders and move into a crowd to avoid the searing heat of his gaze.

I knew he watched me. I knew it. I did not need to see his eyes to know they must be gold in colour.

For the rest of the night I felt hunted…like a deer pacing cautiously through the forest, all the while knowing the hunter lurked in the very same shadows which protected me. I did not like the feeling…and I resented my own weakness and caution. Edward Cullen put me on edge. I would gladly confess to it. But how…how to stop him…how would one stop a Duke who had every resource at the tips of his elegant fingers?

When finally, I stepped into our carriage with aching feet and heavy eyes, mama seemed utterly infuriated and papa was resolutely silent.

"I specifically instructed you to stay away from that man! I said that –"

I rubbed my eyes tiredly, not ready for any unnecessary arguments.

"Mama…you simply said it wasn't necessary to catch a Duke, not that I should…"

"You should not have introduced yourself to him!" Lady Swan interrupted ungraciously, her face flushed even in the darkness of the carriage.

"It was not my doing!" I pleaded. "Lord Crowhurst introduced us when he approached!"

"Then you most certainly should not have agreed to a dance! A waltz no less! You have not had the express permission of Almack's patronesses…"

I felt my throat close tightly but managed to force out the words in my defence. "I did not accept any dance, he had not even asked when he pulled me onto the dance floor…I told him I had not yet attended Almack's but he insisted his aunt could vouch for me…it was not my choice mama; but I am sorry…"

There was a moment of frigid silence before Renee tore her gaze away from the Mayfair scenery passing by the carriage window.

"Is he truly coming to call tomorrow, Isabella Marie?"

I swallowed and nodded. "It could not be helped mama; he asked my permission right before all the watching ladies."

Mama hissed. "The snake! I won't allow it…I won't allow him to have my only daughter! After what he's done…!"

Charles Swan laid a restraining arm on mama's hand.

"What's done is done. Bella was quite right; it would not do to refuse a Duke before so many witnesses." Turning towards me, he gave me a somewhat strained reassuring smile. "We shall receive the Duke of Aubyn tomorrow with all the dignity and ceremony as befitting his station."

Mama let out another furious breath, her eyes averted from her husband and child.

I bit my lip…I had to ask, there was nothing else for it.

"Why do you dislike his Grace, mama?"

Renee never answered my question. She only closed her eyes tiredly and laid her head against the squabs. In fact, she did not speak another word to me all that night.

A/N: And here is the second chapter. I know Edward is a little OOC, but that serves a purpose and you never know what lies underneath all that bluster.

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Twilight to Midnight