Utterly Depressed
Annabel sat on the floor beside the window sill, her knees drawn to her chin and her hands folded lazily over her knees. As she looked out the window, she couldn't help but wonder what her life would be like from here on.
The rose garden her father planted behind the house took up the larger part of the manor, about two thousand cubic meters, with a gazebo made of white wood in the middle, just in front of the fountain.
The gazebo had a few armed wooden chairs painted in the same color and a tea table at the center of it. Looking at it now reminded her of the many times she sat there in her mother's embrace like the spoilt little child that she was, looking over the fountain and taking in the fragrance of the flowers, which always mixed with that of the water from the fountain.
On the left side of the garden was a swing, which had been installed by her father when she had refused to socialize and had spent her time running around the house with Eunice.
She watched the flowers that had bloomed gracefully in the sunlight and the servants that were busy trimming the rose bushes.
Her father had planted the garden because of her mother's love for red roses. After her mother's death, staying in the garden and looking at it gave them a sense of closeness to her. Now she was leaving this house and would be marrying into one she had no interest or memory in whatsoever.
She could still remember when her father had planted this garden. He had put in so much effort to make her mother happy. She had envied their love so much that she had sworn to herself that she would have a life like that. Fate is a cruel thing, isn't it?
Even though Eunice had said to have faith in Gerim, she wasn't really sure anymore. She hadn't seen him in three years. She knew she still loved him as dearly as she did when she first danced with him at that festival, but she wasn't sure if his feelings for her were still the same. Though he always said it in his letters, she still wasn't sure.
At least not anymore, not after speaking to her father.
She was familiar with London, where there were dozens of pretty women of higher classes and social status who had, even more, to offer than herself. She knew that a man who stood beside the king would draw the attention of many women, especially when he was as handsome as her Gerim. Many parents would be willing to marry off their daughters to Gerim just to feel closer to the king, so how could she not worry?
I mean, he replied to her letters only twice in three years, while she made it a duty to write him weekly, even though, due to his refusal to respond, she spaced it out to once every two weeks, she still wrote him more letters than he did to her. She knew he was a very busy man, but then? Couldn't he make more time to reply to her letters? Could he not know that she depended on his letters to go on?
If he had replied to those letters judiciously, perhaps, papa would have had a little faith in him and wouldn't be eager to marry her off to the duke.
Papa was right; she had left society at the age of sixteen after she met him. The year they met was the year when she had just been presented to society as a full-grown woman and had held her coming-of-age ceremony. Her father had thrown a huge party for her and she had been invited to many more afterward, with prospective suitors calling at the house like bees.
After she met him, she refused to honor the invitations she got to attend those balls, and soon the invitations stopped coming as did the suitors, especially when she told them she was engaged to Sir Gerim.
When her father had asked her, she had given an excuse, saying the balls were too boring and stressful. All her age mates since then had met prospective suitors and were now wives of responsible men, but she was still sitting here, with no hope for her future. She had found love first, she, had thought she would be the first to tie the knot among her peers.
She had thought Sir Gerim would miss her so much after staying in London for a few months and would come to ask her hand, saying he couldn't afford to be apart from her. She hadn't expected that three years from that time, she would still be single and without a single suitor, waiting for Gerim to do right by her.
Maybe Papa was right. Maybe she should stop waiting for Gerim. The moment she clocked twenty, she wouldn't be qualified to call herself a young maiden anymore and the suitors she would get then would be nothing short of men who needed a second wife or a widower.
What was she to do now? Maybe if the man she was now betrothed to was someone else, she could have agreed to this wedding, but it was a duke. Not just any duke, but Duke Christopher, a man who had no compassion whatsoever.
She had never even met or seen this man before. The only news she heard about him was the gossip she heard in the town. The people said the only thing he knew how to do was business; he didn't have the ability to love a person.
Even though the town of Berkshire had prospered under him, she didn't want to be his scapegoat or bear his child. She was sure that any child he gave birth to would be just as cold as him. She didn't want to be the one who suffered that.
"My lady! My lady!" She heard Eunice's call, breaking her train of thought. She turned away from the window and looked at the lively girl who had bent over, with one hand over her chest as she steadied her heavy breathing.
She hadn't changed out of the outing clothes, and the way she heaved made Annabel smile sadly. She wished she could be a servant. That way she could marry whomever her heart longs for and go wherever her heart desires.
"My lady, I have good news," Eunice said, and Annabel raised a brow, standing up from the floor as she walked to the table, which had the breakfast she hadn't touched.
"Oh?" Annabel stated flatly that the only good news she could hear right now was that Gerim had come to ask for her hand in marriage or that the wedding had been canceled.
"Yes," Eunice said as she turned to look at her mistress, who went to seat at the dining table to eat her breakfast, which was already cold. She frowned.
"My lady, should I have the pottage heated up for you? It must be cold now," Eunice proposed.
"No, it's fine, just tell me what good news you have," Annabel said as she bit into one of the pieces of bread she had picked out of the plate. It was the same bread that had filled her nose this morning and had almost made her change her route; it was now tasteless in her mouth.
"Sir Amos was about to leave for London when I got there, my lady. Do you know what that means? That means Sir Gerim would get the letter in a few days. I even asked Sir. Amos called Sir Gerim's residence to receive a reply on his way, just in case Sir Gerim wanted to send a letter first. Isn't that good news, my lady?" Eunice said as she rushed to pour water from the pitcher into the stainless steel cup for her lady to drink.
Annabel only smiled sadly, the light in her eyes seeming to have faded away.
"My lady, the news doesn't make you happy?" Eunice asked with worry.
"Oh, it does," Annabel said as she slowly ate the pottage.
"No, it doesn't. Did something happen when you went to see my lord?" Eunice asked again, and this time Annabel met her eyes.
"If Gerim doesn't come for me, it's not going to be easy to call off the wedding, Eunice, a letter from him, isn't going to change much," Annabel said solemnly.
"I am sure he would come, my lady. Why wouldn't he? He loves you and you love him too." Eunice said, ignorantly, but Annabel shook her head.
"Even if he does show up, it wouldn't be easy."
"Why would you say that, my lady?" Eunice asked in confusion. She didn't understand why it seemed as if her mistress had given up hope.
"Father doesn't like him much; he claims Gerim has squandered a lot of my time; I doubt Father would change his mind even if he met Gerim," Annabel said, voicing her worries.
"Of course, he would, my lady. Marriage or not, Sir Thomas loves you very much. He wouldn't allow you to be unhappy." Eunice tried to console her, but Annabel shook her head.
"I believe he would; do you even know whom I'm going to marry?" Annabel asked with dejection in her voice.
"No, my lady, did you find out who he is?"
"It's Duke Blakemore, Eunice. The man I am to marry is Duke Christopher Blakemore," Annabel said as tears fell from her eyes. Eunice's mouth dropped open.
"Blimey!" Eunice said in astonishment.