George called upon Annabelle everyday for two weeks, but the response was the same. She refused to see him. She was expecting his child. She had run away while expecting his child. He refused to listen to reason from Arthur and Clarisse and settle the matter of the safety of his family. He wanted Annabelle to look him in the eyes and tell him again, they had made life.
He paced up and down in his study, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. His hair was disheveled and his thoughts were not his own. How could he have done this? How could he have pushed away the woman who was giving so much to be with him. Clarisse had been open to him, as she always was, blaming him for Annabelle's absence. Arthur was more sympathetic but strangely distant. George had no time to think about his friends and their plans and feelings. He forgot Angelo was still trying to kill him and Lord Markham and Sir Ashton were plotting against him. His only thoughts were his wife and his wife alone.
He stopped pacing and stared at the door, the last place he had seen her. She had been pale, how could he not have noticed she wasn't well. He was far too busy being consumed by his rage. How could he have let her leave in the state she was in. The coachman who had taken her had informed him of her state when he returned. All he saw was red. How could she have not told him? He would have gone after her and pleaded for her to stay with him. Now she wanted nothing to do with him. She refused to grant him an audience or reply any of the letters he sent.
He had spoken to her father briefly and been informed she was well and eating as she should. Other than morning sickness Lord Edwards assured him his wife was in good health. This did nothing but infuriate him further. If she was bed ridden he would understand her desire not see him. But she was well.
He decided he would speak with her before the day ended. Whether she wanted to see him or not she was going to speak to him. He threw the bottle against the wall watching the pieces of glass shatter before heading for the stables. He mounted his horse and rode it faster than he had ever done before. Anger burning down deep within him and Annabelle's name on the tip of his tongue.
'Dear Clarisse, always the dedicated one,' Arthur stood at the door of the stables while Clarisse saddled a horse. She had seen her friend ride off in a fit of rage and it was not hard to guess the direction he was headed. George was known to cause more trouble than good when he was in a foul mood. She knew he would force his presence upon Annabelle and she being the woman she was would not bend for him.
'Did you see your friend ride off, I would be saddling a horse as well if I were you Arthur,' she replied keeping her eyes on the task in front of her.
'Well yes, but when have you ever known me to interfere with a lovers quarrel when I have far more interesting things to do?'
She looked up at him after being satisfied with her work. 'Yes? And what might I ask are these matters that are more interesting than rescuing your friend?'
She was beautiful, he smiled. The kiss they had shared, their first kiss, still lingering on his lips. Her hair was in a loose braid and strands of it had escaped the soft grip of the braid and played around her face. She shone like a star. 'I set a meeting with Lord Markham,' she raised her eyebrow, 'more of consult actually. Informing him I will be the one receiving the bounty for the death of his dear enemy George.'
'What?'
'As of today Clarisse, George is dead. That is the news all of England will receive. He was in a lover's quarrel and left in haste. His horse had the unfortunate fate of coming upon a snake and threw him off, he fell off a cliff or a sharp bend and landed in a tree or some sort of accident.'
'Have you completely lost your mind Arthur?'
'Not at all dear Clarisse. I have been watching the man. He is in a complete state of madness. I tried talking to him and all he did was insult me. Surely you don't expect me tolerate such? When have I ever tolerated it? Even from you?'
Clarisse had no words. Arthur had been selfish a time or two but he would never betray the ones he loved. He was a loyal friend. 'Is it for the money?'
'I have money. It is for the ride. It is time for me to go and get what I want. I had the pleasure of spending time with the young Lady Edwards. She is rather agreeable and beautiful if I must say. I do believe I see in her what Ashton did. And you have reminded me time and time again you are not interested. I feel it is time for me to move on.'
'Arthur,'
He put his hand up to cut her off. 'Please spare me. I believe this time tomorrow you will have nothing to worry about and you can return to London, the place you love so much.' He tipped his hat at her and walked away. A small smile on his face.
Clarisse stood dumbfounded staring at his retreating figure. Arthur's men had told her he was a wayward man. He fell on the side where he had a lot to gain. He knows how the cards will fall miss, always on the winnin' end that one. She mounted her horse and shook away the strange feeling gnawing at her. His words ringing in her head. He had found the young Lady Edwards agreeable. She had to find George. With a kick her horse set off.
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I Am A Lady #Wattys2015
Historical FictionLady Annabelle never imagined her future could be sealed so tight. she had high hope of blossoming and becoming more than a mere wife to a man who would do nothing but disrespect her. when Sir George walked into the study, she knew the road ahead wa...