Annabelle had been sitting at the far end of the room the whole night. She hated balls, parties, gatherings. She hated anything that needed her to be out in the public. She hated the fact everyone in the country walked past her and stared at her with a look so fowl and the few who bothered to acknowledge her so called beauty did it out of mockery. She hated her mother for insisting on her coming and her father for supporting the idea.
Her eyes wandered around the room, she laughed at every lady who thought they had a chance with the man they were dancing with. It never worked out. Her cousin Auberey had the same fantasy until a certain young man whose name she could never bring herself to pronounce had taken every last bit of her dignity and taken her name for a long long ride in the mud. Annabelle found the whole marriage institution a little tiresome. She would rather sit at her own pleasure for the whole day not having to worry about a man who can't even get himself his own dinner. Feeling a little angered at her thoughts she turned her attention to the room and its beautiful lights falling from the ceiling. The chandeliers were beautiful, they looked like they had a touch of gold but not entirely.
There was ribbon draped from the ceiling in small arcs, blue, white, red and something that looked like pink. A centerpiece in the middle of the dance floor made of lit candles illuminated the room. It was truly beautiful. Her eyes ran over it, from the top single candle to the last row. Her eyes moved back up to the top candle, and there was a man standing beside it. Her eyes slowly moved over the jacket and finally landed on his face. Annabelle let out a very unladylike sound and rolled her eyes. She stood up as fast as she could and started walking in the other direction.
Before she could get far a hand gripped her arm and turned her around with such a force, she let out a small gasp. Annabelle was now standing face to face with the man she had spent a very long time trying to ignore, Sir George. He was wearing a black coat, a bow-tie and a shirt which she couldn't quite make out what shade of blue it was She shut her eyes and took a deep breath
'Is this how you woo your women Sir George,' she managed to say in one breath, 'I must tell you it is a rather pathetic method and if you imagine that I am going to be remotely fascinated by this act of violence, I am afraid are going to be very disappointed.'
'I only do this to stubborn young females who refuse to respect the courtesy of a house call'.
'You should have read the message I was trying to send Sir George, I do not want to see you, I do not want to marry you and I certainly do not', she stopped talking as her eyes fell on his lips. Suddenly she had absolutely nothing to say. His eyes were looking so deep into hers she suddenly felt her breath escape from her. Her thoughts had disappeared and there as not one word she could think of.
'You certainly do no want to do what Annabelle?' He dropped his tone and smiled. A victory for Sir George he noted. His charm could not be resisted not even by this beast of a woman standing before him. Her dress was remarkable he thought to himself. It held all the right areas and hid the ones that were not ready to be seen.
Annabelle released herself from his grip. She pulled her hand away a little roughly. People had started to focus their attention on the both of them. She smiled her gentlest smile and moved away from his but Sir George put his hand around her waist before she could retreat and began leading her out towards the garden. As they walked past the guests Annabelle could hear the whispers she had fought so hard to shut out.
'Everyone is staring at us Sir George, I do not appreciate the manner in which you are handling our current situation.'
'If you would have received me earlier we would not have to be here', he was leading her towards the bushes.
She stopped moving and refused to take one more step even after a little insistent push from Sir George. He looked back at the beautiful manor and decided they were far enough. He folded his arms behind his back and turned to stare at the sky. Annabelle let out a huff before sitting down on the grass. Sir George gave her a side glance and smiled to himself. She couldn't fight him forever, there was a point she would have to give up. A question came to his mind. The scene he had witnessed when he first called upon her fathers residence. 'Who is the boy in the painting in your fathers study?' he asked, keeping his tone calm and uninterested. Even though for a very strange reason he was very interested in knowing exactly who the young man was.
Annabelle was picking at the grass, uprooting it and tossing it aside. She looked up at him, the boy in the photo? her fathers study? 'That was not my fathers study,' she said bluntly and uninterested. He noted her tone was very genuine. 'And the boy in the photo is none of your business'. She said matter-a-factly. 'Is there some reason you brought me out here Sir George, it is rather cold and I must admit it to your face I do not particularly enjoy your company. So if you would please say what you have say so that I may go. And say it in a manner that is quick, I would appreciate that'. She looked up and smiled at him then continued her gardening.
'Are you always this rude?'
'No'. She was now on her feet. Her arms crossed 'Are you always this manner less?
He turned to her marveling in her beauty. The moonlight against her skin certainly made her look delicious. Maybe he would fall in love her. Her squaring her eyes at him only made his eagerness to marry her grow. 'Everyone in the room already knows we are engaged to be married,' he stated, 'that may have been the reason for all the stares you were receiving tonight a little mischief between lovers before their wedding is certainly not unheard of. This dear Annabelle,' he spoke as he moved towards her. 'Is perfectly normal. He spoke each word with articulate pronunciation.
Annabelle's mouth opened wide. 'You Sodding prick. How dare you lie to everyone in that room. Is that why Papa insisted I be here tonight. The wedding announcement Lady Caramel was taking about was you and I? You are really a manner less fool with absolutely no sense in any part of you. How dare you do something so.. so..', she spun on her heel looking for the right word, but it never came. A rage built up inside of her and before she knew her hand had already gone across his face. She stood back for a moment before walking away. She lifted her skirt and started running towards the thicket of trees.
Sir George stood in shock, never had a woman ever dared to lay a hand on him. Much less one he had proposed marriage to. He watched her move like the wind. 'What is it with this woman and vegetation'. He took a deep breath and ran after her.
He finally caught up to her at the edge of the trees, she was walking back and forth and staring at them. Her eyes looked swollen, and she seemed like she was not aware of her surroundings. 'Annabelle'. she stopped and looked at him.
'It is Lady Annabelle to you. You have no right to call me by my name'.
'I disagree, I am your fiancee'.
'You imagine you are my fiancee the truth of the matter is very different'.
He watched her watch the trees keenly like she was waiting for something. Her hand moving from her stomach to her mouth. She seemed so shaken like she was frightened. Then something moved.
Annabelle dropped to the ground and watched the trees so closely that his words had not even brushed her ears. When the sound passed she stood up and walked past Sir George. He turned around and fell into step with her. 'Why are you so insistent with this marriage, you do not know me, I do not like you...'
'Quite the contrary Lady Annabelle, I do know you.'
'So not only are you trying to force a union with a woman who does not want you, you have taken to stalking,' she interrupted him and walked faster. He only quickened his step.
I took the time to ask about town and I must say I am impressed with what I have heard so far'. She stopped, so did he.
Annabelle was now standing in front of him. Her eyes fixed on his but looking past him at the same time. 'If I do marry you, do not expect anything from me. We shall be married to the world but in the comfort of your home I will not be expected to be your wife in any capacity. Do not, and hear me quite clearly Sir George, do not expect me to love you, not now, not ever. I refuse to, I do not want to and to be quite honest, you remind me too much of my father to invoke anything and I mean anything in form of passion. Those are the terms. Have a goodnight'. She looked past him to the trees again before turning around and running back the way they came.
He made no efforts to chase her. Something about Annabelle made him want to prove her wrong. Now more than ever he wanted her to fall in love with him to the point she would not even remember her name. She would fall so much in love with him no-one else would matter, just like she said, not now, not ever.
He chose to focus on that and not the sting her words caused.