Twilight - Stephenie Meyer [107]
Edward looked at me casually, the music still surging around us without a break, and winked. “Do you like it?”
“You wrote this?” I gasped, understanding.
He nodded. “It’s Esme’s favorite.”
I closed my eyes, shaking my head.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m feeling extremely insignificant.”
The music slowed, transforming into something softer, and to my surprise I detected the melody of his lullaby weaving through the profusion of notes.
“You inspired this one,” he said softly. The music grew unbearably sweet.
I couldn’t speak.
“They like you, you know,” he said conversationally. “Esme especially.”
I glanced behind me, but the huge room was empty now.
“Where did they go?”
“Very subtly giving us some privacy, I suppose.”
I sighed. “They like me. But Rosalie and Emmett . . .” I trailed off, not sure how to express my doubts.
He frowned. “Don’t worry about Rosalie,” he said, his eyes wide and persuasive. “She’ll come around.”
I pursed my lips skeptically. “Emmett?”
“Well, he thinks I’m a lunatic, it’s true, but he doesn’t have a problem with you. He’s trying to reason with Rosalie.”
“What is it that upsets her?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer.
He sighed deeply. “Rosalie struggles the most with . . . with what we are. It’s hard for her to have someone on the outside know the truth. And she’s a little jealous.”
“Rosalie is jealous of me?” I asked incredulously. I tried to imagine a universe in which someone as breathtaking as Rosalie would have any possible reason to feel jealous of someone like me.
“You’re human.” He shrugged. “She wishes that she were, too.”
“Oh,” I muttered, still stunned. “Even Jasper, though . . .”
“That’s really my fault,” he said. “I told you he was the most recent to try our way of life. I warned him to keep his distance.”
I thought about the reason for that, and shuddered.
“Esme and Carlisle . . . ?” I continued quickly, to keep him from noticing.
“Are happy to see me happy. Actually, Esme wouldn’t care if you had a third eye and webbed feet. All this time she’s been worried about me, afraid that there was something missing from my essential makeup, that I was too young when Carlisle changed me. . . . She’s ecstatic. Every time I touch you, she just about chokes with satisfaction.”
“Alice seems very . . . enthusiastic.”
“Alice has her own way of looking at things,” he said through tight lips.
“And you’re not going to explain that, are you?”
A moment of wordless communication passed between us. He realized that I knew he was keeping something from me. I realized that he wasn’t going to give anything away. Not now.
“So what was Carlisle telling you before?”
His eyebrows pulled together. “You noticed that, did you?”
I shrugged. “Of course.”
He looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds before answering. “He wanted to tell me some news — he didn’t know if it was something I would share with you.”
“Will you?”
“I have to, because I’m going to be a little . . . overbearingly protective over the next few days — or weeks — and I wouldn’t want you to think I’m naturally a tyrant.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, exactly. Alice just sees some visitors coming soon. They know we’re here, and they’re curious.”
“Visitors?”
“Yes . . . well, they aren’t like us, of course — in their hunting habits, I mean. They probably won’t come into town at all, but I’m certainly not going to let you out of my sight till they’re gone.”
I shivered.
“Finally, a rational response!” he murmured. “I was beginning to think you had no sense of self-preservation at all.”
I let that one pass, looking away, my eyes wandering again around the spacious room.
He followed my gaze. “Not what you expected, is it?” he asked, his voice smug.
“No,” I admitted.
“No coffins, no piled skulls in the corners; I don’t even think we have cobwebs . . . what a disappointment this must be for you,” he continued slyly.
I ignored his teasing. “It’s so light