Becoming Rose Belle

The Escape...

In the darkness of her room, Annabelle wept – for her father's cruel heart, her many dreams that would never come to fruition, and most importantly for her impending loss of freedom. The waterfall of tears flowed freely, staining the soft satin pillowcase, soaking the plush goose-down pillow beneath it.

Why had God forsaken her? For so many years she had prayed for a miracle, something to change the outcome of her drab existence. Now she was certain that her prayers had fallen on deaf ears. The most frustrating part was that she'd done everything He'd asked of her; she'd conformed to the life that society imposed on her – she truly believed that for her obedience He would make a way. But tonight she'd given up hope.

When she thought about the man she'd met earlier that evening, the man who would lord over her for the rest of her life, her feelings of anger slowly turned to despair.

Lord Ravenswood – a portly and unattractive man, recently widowed, more than twice her senior – was not interested in love; he wanted a woman to warm his bed and take care of his home, as any dutiful wife should. He knew that a woman's happiness came from outward displays of "love" such as fine jewelry and fancy dresses; therefore, he attempted to entice his betrothed with promises of lavish dinner parties in the ballroom of his sprawling estate and trips to the opera so the world could see her finery first hand. Throughout the course of the night he regaled his bride-to-be with talk of his many lucrative business ventures to assure her that he could fund such an extravagant lifestyle. He paid no mind to her lack of interest for he enjoyed nothing more than to hear himself speak – besides, it was a known fact that women were too naïve to understand the complex world of business and upon seeing the riches that he had to offer, she would be grateful to belong to a man as affluent as himself.

The tears ceased to flow but the feeling of despair remained; she was defeated, resigned to her fate. She shuddered, unable to determine the source of her chill – was it thoughts of Lord Ravenswood or the cool breeze blowing in through the open window?

As she sat on her bed, gazing at the dull glow of a full moon, she heard the door creak slightly on its hinges.

Rhea entered quietly, her presence soft as breath. She crossed the room and knelt before her daughter, resting a satchel on the floor beside her.

"Annabelle, you must go now," she whispered, eyes glistening. "Before he wakes."

Annabelle looked down at the satchel then up at her mother in surprise. Rhea draped a cloak around her shoulders. 

Tears welled in her eyes. "I don't want to leave you," she said

"You must. This place will smother you. Just as it did me."

Annabelle wrapped her arms around her mother. They clung to each other like lifelines, trying not to drown in their sea of sadness.

When they pulled apart, Rhea cupped her daughter's face.

"I love you, Anna. I was never given a choice; I cannot let that happen to you."

Rhea pulled a folded slip of paper from her apron pocket and tucked it into Annabelle's satchel. "For the train. It isn't much, but it will get you to Calais. From there... follow your heart."

She pressed a small coin purse into her daughter's open palm, closing her fingers around it.

"For a fresh start, my love."

Annabelle nodded. No words came. Only the sound of her own heartbeat echoing in her ears.

"Live for me, Annabelle. Promise me you'll live."

"I promise."

Rhea kissed her forehead, then her cheeks. She straightened her cloak and tucked a fresh rose behind her ear.

-----

The night was still as the pair crept through the darkened hallways of the large estate. When they reached the servants' entrance at the back of the house, Annabelle turned back one last time. "Come with me, Mother. Please..." Her expression was strained, knowing that she was leaving her mother alone to face her father's wrath.

Rhea pulled her into one final embrace. "We shall meet again, my love. This I promise. Do not be afraid." They clung to each other for several moments, both reluctant to let go. Rhea knew she had to be strong despite feeling as though her heart was tearing in two. Upon release, she spoke quietly and with much emotion, "Go." The singular word was full of love, overflowing with hope for a brighter future.

Then Annabelle ran.

Into the dark.

Toward the unknown.

Toward freedom.