Petals

eight

"He kissed Adeline Thurston?" Annabelle exclaimed, feeling angry colour flooding her face.

"Aye, milady," Jack replied.

"On the lips?"

The boy looked at his toes sheepishly. "Well, not on the lips, exactly. On the 'and, like. But 'e still seemed keen on 'er, even though 'e sed 'e weren't."

Annabelle shook her head ruefully, her anger fading. "Oh, Jack, a gentleman kissing a lady's hand doesn't mean anything."

"I knows 'at, but..."

"Did he give you anything?" Annabelle cut in.

Jack sighed, digging into his pocket. "Aye." He handed her the note, slightly grubbier than it had been when Adrian had entrusted it to him. With a grumble, he left, scuffing his feet along the grass.

Annabelle read the note and sighed. Obviously, Adrian was not at all pleased with her latest message, for his was an angrily scrawled 'Why not?'

"Why not, indeed," Annabelle murmured to herself, strolling into the garden shed. It was dull inside, due to the clouds hovering over the city. It would be pouring rain by noon. Already the winds were picking up. Annabelle placed the note on her worktable and bent to the small, pot-bellied stove in the corner of the shed. Muttering small curses her mother would be appalled at, she tried to make the wood catch. She had finally gotten a pitiful little flame up when Melanie swung the door open, letting in a gust that killed the poor little fire.

"Anna, what on Earth are you doing? You'll set yourself aflame!" Melanie exclaimed, grabbing hold of Annabelle's hand and pulling her to her feet. "Come now, we have some surprise guests. Isn't that a wonderful relief? I was afraid we would be bored to death, what with this rain coming on."

"What guests?" Annabelle asked, fearing that Adrian might have somehow found her out.

To her relief, Melanie replied, "Some of our old schoolmates."

'Some' turned out to be two: Adeline Thurston and her cousin, Beatrice Millard. Personally, Annabelle found Adeline a naïve twit and Beatrice a manipulative witch, but she was quite curious as to what was actually happening between Adrian and Adeline. And Adeline, being Adeline, didn't even need to be led into the subject. It seemed the only thing she wished to talk about - and doubtless was. Annabelle had no problem simply sitting, listening and sipping her tea as the Thurston daughter chattered on.

"Of course, I always knew he was handsome," Adeline stated in her little sparrow voice, "but I never realized quite how much until I was sitting right beside him. He really does have the most marvellous green eyes. And he was so attentive! Why, I felt like a princess, his eyes never left me..."

Unwillingly, Annabelle felt a stab of jealousy. He was probably wondering at your inability to stop talking, she thought sourly. And his eyes are blue-green, not green!

She found it increasingly difficult not to crush the handle of her teacup in her hand, and her nose quivered irritably as she listened on. The tea and biscuits were tasteless in her mouth. Her eyelids grew lower and lower to hide her rage and disappointment.

"I never even knew that he was looking for a bride until Papa told me so. Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful? Mrs. Adrian Morey."

Annabelle found she had suddenly forgotten how to swallow and the tea caught in her throat. She coughed, blinking back the wetness that rose to her eyes.

"Oh, dear, Anna, are you alright?" Melanie asked.

Annabelle cleared her throat and smiled shakily. "Yes, yes. I'm fine, really. I just need some fresh air, I think."