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

"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!

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.

16. Sixteen

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1869   Review this Chapter


Charlotte curled up into Carlisle’s chest. “So much for food,” she whispered, teasing.

He grinned and kissed her hair. “I love you. I love you so much. You promise I did not hurt you?”

She kissed up his chest and neck until she found his lips. “Of course you did not hurt me.”

“It will be better when we get to Ireland,” he sighed. “Especially if I’ve been able to hunt in the forests there. I’ll have better control.”

“Well, as you know, I am not exactly an expert, but I think the love was pretty good this time.”

Carlisle kissed her forehead. “I cannot believe that those society ladies thought you were overweight. You are beautiful. I adore every inch of you.”

Charlotte blushed. “I obviously have not looked in a mirror! If I am so beautiful, it must be a new feature!”

“You have always been beautiful,” he insisted, pulling her waist closer to him. “I wish I could make love to you again.”

“Then do so,” she replied, looking up at him.

“We cannot. The owner of this café was kind enough to realize we required the quest room, but you have to eat and we have to save your life, remember?”
Charlotte sighed and put her undergarments back on. Carlisle watched as she laced up her stays and pulled them taught behind herself. He shook his head.

“Honestly, how do you women stand all of that?”

Charlotte laughed. “Does it not make me look attractive?” she asked, as she assembled the rest of her undergarments.

He flew to her side in only a pair of breeches and embraced her from behind, kissing her neck. “Trust me,” he began between kisses, “If I was not good friends with self-control, you would have been mine long before now…”

“Carlisle!” she giggled, turning to face him. “You know I wish to be yours now, again and forever more.”

“Soon,” he promised. “We must keep you from danger.” Carlisle finished dressing and carried Charlotte downstairs, where their Parisian host met them with a smile on her face.

“Going already?” she asked in French.

“Yes. Sadly, we are on a tight schedule. We appreciate your hospitality.”

She presented Charlotte with a basket full of food. “For your journey.”

Charlotte, who had taken three years of French from her governess, was suddenly dumbstruck. She nodded and smiled, but was at a complete loss for words. Somehow, Carlisle and their new friend talked too fast for her to comprehend.

The moment they set foot outside the door, they heard an eerie violin melody.

“I told Natasia not to play until we were across the channel!” growled Carlisle under his breath.

“Then she would not! Natasia would never dare to go against our wishes…would she?”
At once, an idea hit Carlisle. “Oh no,” he breathed.

“They’re here. She is warning us! Eat while I run. We must go.” He scooped Charlotte up into his arms and weaved through the alleyways of Paris.

Pyotr’s growl ripped through the air within seconds. He slammed into the two of them, forcing Charlotte to scream. Carlisle pressed forward, across the river that divided the city.

“Where are you going?” she shrieked, knowing that she should have been able to trust him.

He could not respond with Pyotr so close, but in his mind, Carlisle saw the winding catacombs of Paris as the best way to lose an evil tracker. The stench of death would perhaps distract him for long enough so that Carlisle could find an alternate exit…

As he began to whip down the ancient passageways, he realized Charlotte was no longer in his arms. He turned around at once, tracking Pyotr’s musky, heavy scent until he reached the fringes of the city, where he could clearly see Charlotte’s beautiful hair whizzing to a clearing…

The moment he felt his pale skin meet her, Nikolai slammed into him and knocked him several feet away.

“Very nice, Pyotr. I knew you would not return empty-handed,” said Nikolai.

As Pyotr dropped a shaking Charlotte upon the grass, Carlisle picked her up and attempted to run with her, but all three vampires, Sergei, Nikolai and Pyotr, formed a wall against him.

A blood-curdling screech swept the hill.

“Ah, that would be Natasia,” said Nikolai, smiling.

“Natasia?” asked Carlisle and Charlotte together.

“Well, who else could have betrayed you? I assume that was Fyodor smashing her violin for tipping you off.”

In a blur of white, Natasia and Fyodor joined the scene.

“Oh, come to join the ball, have you?” asked Nikolai.

“He broke it!” she screamed in agony.

“Come now, did you honestly think you would go unpunished for such an act?”

“Carlisle, Charlotte, I tried to hold them off, but they just would not listen,” she attempted desperately.

“I understand,” murmured Carlisle.

“Now down to business,” said Nikolai, taking in Charlotte’s scent. “How beautiful your blood is, my dear,” he said, smiling. “It appears as though my henchmen were correct.”
Charlotte could not believe how eloquently he spoke; no accent, only spite evident in his voice. She gulped and realized that she was shaking.

“I would watch that heart rate of yours, Charlotte. You are surrounded by vampires, and any sudden human reactions may end your life all too soon.”

She attempted to slow down her thundering heart, but failed atrociously. All the Russians, save for Natasia, laughed loudly.

Carlisle sheltered Charlotte in his arms and sent the others an evil look. “How dare you,” he snarled. “How can you dare to insult someone who has done nothing to you? Have you no respect for human life?”

Nikolai raised his eyebrows at Carlisle’s words. “It seems you are as strange a vampire as my reports indicate.”

“He is strange only to you, Nikolai!” exclaimed Natasia. “I have traveled with him for three days, and he fights for human life in every possible way he can!”

“And you have turned to his ways, have you then?”

“A little,” she replied. “Animal blood is not as bad as you assume.”
Sergei made a face and coughed. “I knew your eyes looked changed,” he whispered, narrowing his eyes.

“It is a slow process,” said Carlisle quietly. “It will take months before her eyes are golden.”

Intrigued, Nikolai stooped forward and examined Carlisle’s eyes. “Fascinating! They look like that awful sweet the humans adore so much!”
“Caramel,” whispered Charlotte. “They are always caramel.”

“And is that why you were attracted to him, you foolish human?”
“He showed me a kindness I have never known,” she murmured.

“Did he? How ironic.”
Nikolai leap for Charlotte’s neck, but Carlisle blocked him.

He laughed. “How amusing you are, Dr. Cullen. It is doctor, is it not?”

“Yes, it is.”
“Do you believe you can truly win against all of us?”
Carlisle narrowed his eyes.

“All of you on my count, go for her. Pin her down and save her for me. I think we may have to annihilate Dr. Cullen first, but I cannot foresee the outcome.” He grinned. “One, two, three.”

Carlisle was a blur, blocking Charlotte’s flesh from those who desired it. Again and again Fyodor slammed into him, and each time, Carlisle pushed him back.

But within seconds, Charlotte felt cool marble hands upon her neck and screamed. The hands covered her mouth and dragged her away. When at last she opened her eyes, she saw Natasia.

“What are you doing?” she asked, glancing around at the hazy forest.

“Saving your life!” she whispered. “Trust me on this!”

Charlotte had no words.

The fight on the hill stopped the instant they realized the palpitations of a frenzied heart were missing.

“Where is she?” demanded Pyotr.

“Which she?” asked Nikolai. “Natasia has taken Charlotte.” All of them stared at Nikolai. “Split up!” he said. “Whoever finds the girl first may have her!”

With this promise, they separated, blurring in all directions.

Carlisle found himself running alongside Pyotr, both following the scent most fervently.

“Give up, Pyotr,” said Carlisle.

The burly man only growled in response.

“Are you honestly that interested in consuming her?”
“You do not understand,” he murmured. “Her blood…it sings for me!”

Carlisle nearly stopped in his tracks. “That is impossible,” he whispered. “I am certain it sings for me.”

“Then vhy haven’t you killed her yet?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes.

“Because I do not kill humans! How many times must I explain myself to your coven?”

“If she is your singer, how do you manage to kiss her and romance her?”

“Strength of mind,” murmured Carlisle. “It is something I have worked an awful lot on the last hundred years of my existence. It has not been easy.” He sighed. “But Charlotte is a beautiful, caring, wonderful woman. I would hate to waste her life because of my stupid bloodlust.”

Pyotr smiled evilly. “I would love to waste her life because of my bloodlust.”

Carlisle began to run faster, taking in breaths as quickly as possible to keep smelling Charlotte’s scent. Was it truly being masked by the forest? Would it be safe to follow Pyotr? Would he lead Carlisle completely astray as a trap?

A scream ripped through the woods. Charlotte’s? Natasia’s? It rippled again. Pyotr darted to it, sure that it would be Charlotte, and the two skidded to a stop in a new clearing.


Carlisle watched his love scream as Fyodor effortlessly destroyed Natasia, severing her head from her body with ease. His teeth glinted in the afternoon sun, and whether venom truly dripped from them or not was yet to be seen. But whatever it was, Fyodor was going in for the kill.

“She’s mine!” yelled Pyotr, and he went head-on into Fyodor’s chest.

Charlotte glanced to the side and saw Carlisle, her head spinning. He walked over to her and picked her up with ease, beginning to sprint out of the forest. No words were able to escape from her pale pink lips. Her heart fluttered anxiously and unevenly in her chest as she buried herself closer to Carlisle.

“Save me, save me,” she murmured, over and over again was her plea.

“I will,” he vowed, though he did not know how long his word would hold.

Whispers suddenly erupted all around them. Carlisle was knocked to the ground from his feet, Sergei on top of him, pinning him down with unbelievable force. “Watch,” he snarled. “Watch Charlotte die.”

Nikolai slowly circled around Charlotte, his irises a burning midnight black. “I knew I would have you in the end.”

“No!” she whispered frantically.

“And with your lover watching? Oh, this is an ending for words!”

“Please, I beg of you!” yelled Carlisle, wriggling under Sergei’s grasp.

“I will not torment either of you any longer. Perhaps you will find she is beautiful even in death,” smirked Nikolai.

In another instant, Nikolai lunged for Charlotte and dug his teeth into her perfect neck.