A/N: Hello. I couldn't stay away, and I'm back with another tale. I hate my new job and need a little distraction.

This one is a bit more like my first story, The Homestead, with some historical elements and a bit of the supernatural. I'm using some characters from the Twilight saga that I haven't seen incorporated into fanfic very often, but I refuse to use a character named Nahuel in present day Rhode Island. I have re-named him Natanael, nicknamed Nate, but you won't see him for a few chapters.

I will try and update every 2 weeks. I don't know exactly how long, maybe 30 chapters?

I'm really trying to develop my writing and don't have a beta, so I'd appreciate any constructive criticism on my character development, general writing style, and, of course, grammar and technical structure.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. I'm only using Stephenie Meyer's characters to have a little fun.

Prologue

2013

Ness watched through the driver's side window as her mother climbed the curved brick staircase returning to the front of the house. Her arms hugged her sweater close against the chill morning air. Ness could only see her back now. Her blonde hair had been haphazardly piled on top of her head with a clip, and Ness could see a few pieces slipping out. She had turned to go as soon as Ness's car had left the driveway; Marie Cullen was excited for her daughter, convinced this opportunity was the one to catapult Ness into true adulthood, even though she was already 24 years old. Marie saw no reason to linger on the sidewalk, following her daughter's taillights until they were no longer visible. Ness shifted her attention to the rearview mirror as she passed the house. Her father was a different story. Masen Cullen remained on the sidewalk, his hand raised in good-bye, determined to watch those taillights as long as possible. Ness knew he was worried about her summer internship for many reasons.

Ness hadn't been many places in her life. She had gone to high school and college less than five miles from the very house she was now leaving behind. Granted, they had been prestigious schools. The Paideia School, which she had attended from kindergarten, was one of the most exclusive private schools in Atlanta, and Emory University was well known for its liberal arts curriculum. Her parents were both physicians on staff at Egleston Children's Hospital, which was affiliated with Emory, and they hardly ever had the time or inclination for vacations apart from short trips to the beach in South Carolina. Even her graduate program at Clemson University was only a two hour trip away…at the most.

Ness could no long see her father as she turned off the quiet neighborhood street onto the busier surface roads near Druid Hills Golf Club, but she couldn't pull her thoughts away from his concern. He had repeatedly questioned if this internship was really something she wanted to do. Rhode Island is awfully far away, even for a few months, he had reminded her. Ness didn't blame him for his skepticism. She had never really had the inclination to move beyond her comfort zone, and he saw her destination in Rhode Island as a dangerous one, and definitely not the place for her first foray out of the nest. She had graduated from Emory summa cum laude with a degree in art history and could have chosen any number of prestigious graduate programs. She had chosen the Master's program in architectural history and historic preservation at Clemson because it had been close by.

But this opportunity that had fallen in her lap was too serendipitous to pass up. There was a perfect symmetry to it that her mother had recognized at once. Marie had practically put her hand over Masen's mouth every time he tried to object to the plan. Marie couldn't understand Masen's reluctance; she thought it was high time Ness got out into the world on her own. Ness did understand her father's concern, although she wouldn't validate it. Ness and Masen shared a bond. They were both Cullens, and Marie wasn't, not really.

Ness knew her father had endured a very difficult childhood. His father, Anthony Cullen, who he hardly ever discussed, had inherited a very large fortune, which he had squandered by the time Masen was a teenager and died shortly after. Masen's mother, Elizabeth Masen Cullen, had been an alcoholic, absentee parent and sent him to boarding school in Massachusetts as soon as he was old enough. The money had run out before he left high school, but the school had waived the tuition at the end and allowed him to graduate. This was a testament to Masen's intelligence and work ethic, but had mostly been done as a courtesy to the Cullen name, which was all Masen had left at that point in his life.

It boggled her mind every time she thought about it. She had experienced an ordinary southern upper middle class upbringing, so different from Masen's. He had made sure of that. The idea that the Cullen name had once been so powerful that it could garner that kind of reaction was so foreign and strange, but it was true. Cullen was up there with Vanderbilt, Rockefeller, and Astor as one of the great American surnames. She had never felt deserving of it, but this summer she planned to connect with it.

Ness had scored a coveted internship with The Preservation Society of Newport County in Newport, RI. She would mainly be learning the ins and outs of historical preservation from national experts, but she could also use the time to research her Master's Thesis, and she definitely had a few ideas on where she would focus. The PSNC maintained several properties in Newport along Bellevue Avenue, which was also known as Mansion Row. They had been the summer homes of the nation's wealthiest families during the so-called Gilded Age around the turn of the century. Many of them were now kept as museums with meticulously restored furnishings and gardens.

All this would be enough to make PSNC an ideal summer internship for someone like Ness, but it was PSNC's most recent project that had caught her attention. And this project was possibly the reason that PSNC had chosen Ness from among hundreds of applicants. PSNC was restoring Cullen House, arguably the finest of the Newport Mansions in its heyday. And it had belonged to her direct ancestors.

Cullen House had been built in the 1870s by William Cullen who had made his fortune in the railroads, just like Cornelius Vanderbilt, although was less remembered by history. Unfortunately, he had died before he could enjoy the house, and his son Carlisle was the one who first used the house as his summer home. Carlisle's son, Jasper, had turned to banking as the Industrial Revolution boomed and had expanded the Cullen fortune further. The names seemed like characters from a novel, but they were actually Ness's family.

Jasper's son Whitlock Cullen had been Masen's grandfather, but he had died before Masen was born. He had been born in the early 1920s, served as a pilot during World War II, and continued the family tradition of investment banking. His son Anthony, Masen's father, had been born just after the war. Whitlock was the last to use the Newport estate. He died young, having spoiled his only son, who took his inheritance and purchased a large property outside of Palm Beach, Florida. He then proceeded to spend money hand over fist. By the time, Masen was born, he and his wife, Elizabeth, were no longer on speaking terms. Cullen House was lost to creditors after a nasty divorce. A hotel conglomerate had tried to turn it into a hotel in the late 1980s and early 1990s, but it had essentially sat vacant for years. Restoring and conserving the house was a vast undertaking and had been underway for a few years already.

And now Ness would take part in that. It seemed very fitting to her, but she knew her father worried that it would affect her negatively somehow. She guessed he believed the money and possessions had been a family curse. She had tried to convince him that she just wanted to get in touch with her history, but he retorted that some things were better left in the past. Her musings had kept her company to the I-85 on ramp, and as she accelerated, she decided to put her father out of her mind and just enjoy the adventure.

1901

Edward swatted the net with his racket in frustration. Jasper had managed to beat him yet again. His younger brother was proving to be a formidable opponent this summer. He would have to see if he could cajole Garrett Vanderbilt into a friendly game later this week. He was certain that was a match he could win.

Jasper had his head thrown back in laughter and was performing some sort of unbecoming victory dance. Edward tugged on his shirtsleeves, pulling them down over his forearms. A glance down at his white pants confirmed that they were likely ruined with grass stains. He huffed in aggravation. Jasper approached the net.

"Calm down, Edward," he called out when he recognized Edward's frustration. The smirk was still firmly in place, however. "You can't be the best at everything, you know. And stop hitting the net with the racket like that, you'll break it." Jasper extended his hand across the net for a shake. Edward took it and squeezed, smiling at Jasper sheepishly. His brother was, of course, forgiven. He rounded the net and threw his arm around Jasper's shoulders.

"Looks like you've had a good teacher, little brother," he bantered, ruffling Jasper's sun-bleached hair. Jasper really had been spending a good deal of time outdoors since they'd come down to Newport. Edward suspected it has something to do with Miss Alice Brandon, who he had spied down at Bailey's Beach the first week after they had arrived. Miss Brandon was from Charleston, SC, but was staying with relatives in Newport this summer. Edward could not understand the fuss, but Jasper had talked non-stop about her since the day he had seen her. Apparently, an errant wave had caused her to tumble, and the knee-length skirt of her bathing costume had flipped up enough for Jasper to catch a glimpse of the bloomers underneath. He had behaved so erratically the rest of that afternoon, that their father had thought he had heat stroke. He had confided the truth to Edward, however.

Edward took a moment to enjoy the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below as they crossed the wide lawn to the main house. It was a spectacular sunny day without any hint of the fog that sometimes plagued the area, and he could clearly see Swan Court high on top of the cliff at the end of Bellevue Avenue, their closest neighbor. He glanced in the other direction toward the marina and could just make out his father puttering around atop his beloved yacht. The isolation of life on the tiny island where Cullen House had been built was sometimes stifling for Jasper, but Edward enjoyed it. He had little use for social interaction unless it was directly related to business. He knew his mother was anxious for him to consider marriage, but Edward had great plans for the Cullen family and was focused on expanding their interests into the world of finance.

"So," Jasper began, breaking the silence, "have you talked with Mother today?" Edward shook his head and crinkled his brow.

"No, why do you ask?" Jasper looked delighted as he began to answer Edward's question. He could be as big a gossip as one of the Astor women sometimes.

"Charles Swan plans to debut his daughter later this month," he said conspiratorially. Well, Jasper had played that one well. This news shocked even Edward.

"The one whose mother was a house maid," he asked disbelievingly. Jasper nodded with delight.

"Yes, when Swan's wife died childless, he plucked the girl from her mother's care and took her in. He was devastated by his wife's death and wanted an heir but couldn't stomach re-marrying," Jasper continued.

"Yes, yes, I've heard that story, too, Jasper. Or should I call you Jasperina, you terrible gossip?" Edward spat impatiently. Jasper chuckled but complied.

"Anyway, she's been away in boarding school in France for the last several years and has just returned now that she is seventeen," he finished his tale.

"And he's seriously going to publicly debut her?" Edward questioned. "It will be a terrible scandal, and she'll be ridiculed. Who would attend such a ball?" Jasper looked at Edward soberly.

"We would," he said, "if Mother insisted, and she plans on doing so." Edward gasped.

"We couldn't possibly expose the Cullen name to such disgrace!" he exclaimed. Jasper nodded in sympathy.

"I understand your point, but Mother was close friends with Swan's wife as you know and wants to support him. She says Susan would want her to do it," he shook his head fondly at his mother's idiosyncrasies. "You know if it gets out we plan to attend, then others will do so as well." Edward had to concede this point. The Cullens had only slightly less power than the Vanderbilts.

"The girl won't find a husband," Edward warned, trying to reconcile himself to the idea of attending the ball. He knew all too well that his mother couldn't be resisted if she decided to take a stand on this issue.

"Not our concern, right, brother?" he placated, and Edward nodded grimly.

"And what is the girl's name?" Edward asked distractedly as they approached the verandah doors to enter the house. He had to get his tennis whites to the chambermaid immediately if the staff were to have any hope of removing the stains in the laundry. He was only half-listening when Jasper answered him.

"Isabella Swan."

I hope you've enjoyed reading this. Next chapter in about 2 weeks. Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think.

EG