Chapter Thirty Nine

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Annabelle wore black. She had forgotten what it felt like to be donned in any other color clothing. Her expression was always sad. It was always downcast. Her smile, her bubble, her joy it had all faded. She was never one to live out in society so when news of her husband's passing flew to London many simply sent their condolences through the post. She didn't care. She had never really had friends. No one would ever truly want to be her friend. She was far too dark. She stood in front of the mirror and ran a hand over her face.

What had Angelo seen in her? What had his brother seen in her? What did Lord Markham want from her? She put her hand to her stomach. It was now a small bump. She turned sideways and looked at her stomach again. She smiled. She had a piece of him with her. She wondered what their child would like. Would it look like her or would it look like him?

Her door opened and in came Amelia. She was a peculiar girl. She always looked scared and whenever she heard a sound on the other side of the door she jumped. 'Amelia,' she said softly. 'Sit with me will you.' Amelia looked up at her after setting her tray down. Annabelle had never eaten what she brought. Not out of distrust but out of circumstance. The girl sat beside her on the bed. Her eyes fixed on her stomach. 'You will have one of your own one day I can assure you. And it will be the joy of your life. Knowing there is someone growing inside of you. Knowing that there is someone who will one day depend on you for everything that they need, it is the joy of a woman.'

'Not me ma'am. Beatrice,' she stopped. Her eyes wide. She quickly placed her hand over her mouth.

'Who is Beatrice?' she remembered the expression George had when he had seen her name on the pie of paper she took from Amelia. She smiled, in her mind he was George. No more sir, just George. Beatrice, her thoughts came back to the present. The woman who had come with Angelo.

Amelia fumbled over her words. She could not form a sentence. She was thankful when the door opened and Lord Edwards walked in. She stood almost immediately, curtsied and left in a rush.

'My dear, it is time,' he said before Amelia was out of ear shot.

Annabelle rose ever so gracefully. She had used the excuse of her pregnant state to stay in her room for most of the day without being disturbed. Her father put his arm on the small of her back and led her out of her room and down the hallway.

It had been two months. Two months. She walked down the hallway and down the servant stairs as she did everyday only today she noticed they had company. She could hear the almost silent ruffling of skirts following behind them. She knew Amelia was following.

Annabelle had become wiser. After Clarisse had paid her a visit and revealed all to her. Her heart had sunk. The three men who had promised to love her and protect her were the same ones who had chosen to end her and ruin her. Angelo and his brother she understood but Lord Markham? Clarisse had not been as liberal with her information. She had kept that to herself not being sure of what that kind of information could do to a pregnant woman.

Angelo was now out for revenge and Sir Ashton, she had never truly known what he had wanted. He did not love her, yet he had insisted on being with her.

She stopped before they reached the bottom, turned abruptly and headed back up the stairs, catching Amelia mid flight down. 'Is there something you needed Amelia?' the girls face turned white. She shook her head and retreated back up the way she had come. Annabelle let out a soft sigh. She had no strength for anger or hatred or any kind of emotion.

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