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Caramel: The Musings and Adventures of a Miss Charlotte Marigold And of a Dr. Carlisle Cullen

Summary:
"There was something very, very strange about this Carlisle Cullen, and she was determined to figure it out by the end of the evening. It was not often that such a mystery crossed her path, and Charlotte was not about to allow Dr. Cullen to cross hers without so much as an inquiry." Dr. Carlisle Cullen has been a vampire for nearly 150 years. He's established himself as a neutral of the Volturi, a 'vegetarian' vampire, and as an unsuitable husband for any young woman of the upper British crust by 1778. But Charlotte Marigold seems to find herself fiercely attracted to him when all the other young women flee... Caramel Author's Note: Caramel is now finished! Thank you for your support, everyone!


Notes:
Disclaimer: All characters from the Twilight series are not mine - they belong to the genius of Stephenie Meyer. I am merely a humble writer who lets her imaginations run away with her.


12. Twelve

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1921   Review this Chapter

Twelve

“Allow me to clarify something,” began Charlotte shakily. “There are…how many vampires after me?”

Carlisle grinned and embraced her very softly for a few moments. “Depends if you count the Volturi, Mr. Tvietski, and me.”
She furrowed her eyebrows. “You?”

He smirked to himself and looked to the floor. “Haven’t you noticed I’m after you?”

Bright scarlet flamed on Charlotte’s cheeks. “All right, then…if you’re going about it that way. How many vampires are after my blood?”

He sighed. “Probably all of them, except for me of course.”

“All of them. Lovely. Perfect.”
“But we only know of…four? And that is not exactly an awful figure, to be quite honest. What’s more is that you are still living. I think I am doing a decent job of protecting you.”

Charlotte smiled. “Fairly decent.” She slowly wrapped her arms around his chilly neck and whispered, “Now, where we were?” into his ear.

Carlisle closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, no farther than this. I wasn’t able to quench my thirst as I would have liked. You see, I usually spend several days hunting rather than just a few hours.”

“Was I asleep for that long?”

He nodded, smiling. “You need your sleep. I understand. I used to be human, too, you know.” Carlisle kissed the top of her head and picked her up into his arms in one small motion.

She shrieked a little and giggled. “What are you doing?”

“You need sleep, I need to hunt. I will stay as close as possible.” As he set her upon the soft bed, he kissed her forehead again. “Just know that I am close, please?”

“How can I forget?” she smiled, closing her eyes for a moment. “I love you,” she whispered.

“As I love you.”

Once again, he was gone.

Charlotte sighed and registered the complete and utter silence around her. It was always good to sleep in the silence, she knew, especially when the silence meant she was completely and utterly alone.

That, however, kept her up.

Tired as she was, Marcus and Pyotr’s faces kept reappearing in her head. She tossed from side to side, attempting to find a place on the bed that would keep her safe from such encroaching nightmares, but she found none. Before long, her green eyes were red-rimmed and a little swollen from lack of sleep, and her head throbbed.

So close…

Charlotte sat in a valley, the mountains bordering her, sun shining as she sat perfectly still, staring at the flowers and trees in front of her. The sunshine bounced off the trees, the grass, her dress, and even seemed to set her own skin aglow before her eyes.

She lay back, completely sprawled out within the daisies around her. Strangely enough, a small lamb, perfect and white, slowly sauntered to her side, where it gracefully collapsed, baying lightly.

It was paradise. A soft breeze blew, lightly playing with the loose strands of her hair and freeing them from a soft bun. In the dream itself, she felt at peace, asleep without worry or care for the first time since the night she had met Carlisle.

A whispering sound caught her ears. She sat up abruptly, small butterflies spraying out around her, her hair cascading down her back. The little lamb bleated softly again. Another sound; this time a ghostly chuckle, echoing through the woods and out around her.

“Who is there?” she whispered, her eyebrows furrowing, fluttering her eyelashes in an attempt to see around herself.

Another ghostly laugh, another whisper of movement.

“Dare I say it?” taunted the voice at last.

“What are you?”

“Your worst nightmare.”

She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. “Carlisle? Carlisle please come back!” pleaded Charlotte.

At once, a new vampire, one she had never seen before, appeared directly in front of her, merely three feet away. “So you are Carlisle’s little…experiment. I’ve been…well…dying to meet you.”

Charlotte gulped and could feel the color drain from her face. “Who…who are you?”

“We’ll take care of that little factor in a moment, though I doubt it will be necessary.” The vampire snapped his fingers and Pyotr materialized on his right side, another vampire to his left, and another two behind him.

“You were right, Pyotr,” said the first, “Beautiful. Charming. Blood…” All of them inhaled as one unit, their irises blazing.

“I have never given you the wrong trail,” replied Pyotr.

“Fyodor, why don’t you show our guest a display of pure strength just to…warm her up a little bit?” asked the main vampire, looking behind him slightly to the burliest of the entire group.

Grinning evilly, venom nearly dripping from his strangely pronounced fangs, he swiftly walked forward and picked up the little lamb. Charlotte gulped and her eyes stayed frozen upon the tiny animal. Within another second, Fyodor had detached the lamb’s head from its body, which he crumpled up into a bloody mass. He presented the head to Charlotte, who screamed and backed up on the grass, standing up and stumbling.

The leader laughed loudly. “If you were strong, I could understand Carlisle’s attraction to you…and the reasoning behind the Volturi’s quest for your immortality. But this? An innocent, stupid girl from the English countryside? Impossible.”

“C-Carlisle is not attracted to me. He is my protector until I am changed into a vampire by the V-Volturi.”
“She lies,” whispered a hoarse voice coming from the leader’s left side.

“Well of course she lies, Peskowitz. I could hear her stuttering from a mile away. But what exactly she lies about…”

They all stood, confused and silent before her. After a long pause, the leader took a step forward.

“No matter. I came here to kill, not question. Pyotr, Fyodor, if you would hold the girl down…”

Although she knew it was useless, Charlotte began to run. The two burliest of the bunch had her down upon the ground within a matter of seconds. Directly above her, the leader’s dark black irises bore into her emerald eyes.

“Let us see how you taste,” he murmured, a dark smile upon his lips.

And the teeth of the hunter plunged into the column of her throat.

Charlotte sat up abruptly and screamed. “Carlisle!” Her hands clasped around her throat, where she could have sworn a strong, evil vampire had punctured her only moments before.

He was at her bedside in an instant. “Shh, love, I’m here…”

Panting, she looked at the perfectly sculpted angel before her. “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

He shook his head. “Your heart still beats, my darling. You still breathe, too. It was only a dream.”

“A dream,” she repeated in the smallest of whispers.

“Yes,” replied Carlisle. He put one hand on her shoulder, the other on her neck. “Now, relax.”
Charlotte took a deep breath and closed her eyes fro a long moment. “Did I disturb your hunt?”

He chuckled. “Not in the slightest. It is nearly three a.m. I was finished by midnight.”

“I have been asleep for that long?’

He shrugged. “You needed your sleep. I was not about to deprive your body of something it needed.”

She smiled. His thoughtfulness always took her by surprise, even though she had three or so weeks to grow accustomed to it. “It would have been a good sleep, if not for that awful…” she stopped, her skin breaking out into shivers.

Carlisle clasped her hands in his. “Do you mind telling me what this awful dream was about? It helps to talk about these things sometimes.”

Charlotte nodded. “You should know about it, I believe. But please, please do something for me first?”
“Anything,” murmured Carlisle, leaning in closer to meet their eyes.

“Please.” She barely spoke the word, but he heard it and continued to stare at her, extremely interested, captivated. “Kiss me.”

The last two words were the ones he had wanted to hear the most, a request to meet their lips. He obliged her wish, hands upon her warm cheeks, taking in the sweet scent of her skin.

After a few moments, he sensed a blush on her cheeks. He opened his eyes and ceased the kiss for a second, pulling away.

“Why do you blush, my love?” he asked, eyes glancing at her cheeks, which were in fact, aglow with warm blood as he had suspected.

She bit her lip for a moment. “I was just…I was thinking of how much I do not want to stop kissing you…ever. Especially now, when…when…”

Carlisle traced her lips with one of his fingers. “When?” he asked softly.

Charlotte smiled. “Please do not make me say it.”

“Ah. Well, I was unaware that a single kiss could ignite such passion in a young woman such as yourself.”

“I suppose I am rushing into things.” She blushed again. “But you just hunted, and now sort of seems to be opportune for something like this…”

While she trailed off in embarrassment, he moved from a sitting position to a lounging one on the other side of the bed, kicking off his shoes. “I have an idea. A very good one if I do say so myself.”

“Oh?” she asked, cuddling up to him easily.

“We shall take this in stages. Because, if you are embarrassed talking about it, you’ll be even worse when we are completing the love.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“So, I’ll try this,” he began, his hand on her waist, pulling her closer to him. He kissed her lips with more intensity than ever before, leaving her to gasp softly when his lips left hers and traveled to her throat. He graced the surface of her clavicle and moved fabric away from her soft shoulder, kissing the skin there, too.

“Carlisle,” she whispered.

He met their lips again. “Are you all right?”

“All right?” she repeated. “How can you ask your lady to describe herself so when you are kissing her? If I was remotely close to all right, I would have stopped your endearments by now.”

A little bewildered by her words, he met her gaze.

She threw both her arms around his neck. “I am wonderful.”

Smiling, he kissed her again. “I love you more than you can ever comprehend.”

“Somehow, I doubt that. You may come to find that I comprehend love better than you think.” Charlotte leaned closer to him and whispered. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never again,” he oathed. “I shall have to find a way to bring you with me…”

“Not now, do not think of it now, I beg of you. Kiss me again.” Charlotte paused, a flush in her cheeks again. “Kiss me as you have never kissed me before.”

Once again, he did as she asked, allowing his human side to surface completely. He lost himself in her soft, warm skin, his lips spending time detailing kisses on her neck, shoulders and chest, with enough meaning and love to send Charlotte nearly into complete euphoria.

He pulled away from her before he completely lost control of both levels of his desire. And although her body screamed in protest, she understood without another word.

She understood.

He was almost as overwhelmed with that fact as he was with his lust for her. She understood him. And truthfully, that was perhaps the most wonderful thing he could have shared with a woman like Charlotte.