Unwritten

Annabelle

A warm summer breeze carried the sounds of laughter to every corner of the garden - it rustled through the leaves with a melody as sweet and pure as a baby's coo. Hours had passed, unbeknownst to the pair, as they'd been far too busy enjoying each other's company. Annabelle entertained her mother with imitations of Lady Hawthorne, a snobbish widow who often invited them to tea in an obvious effort to flaunt her wealth, which far surpassed their own. As she began to launch into another parody, a terrifying voice sliced through the merriment. 

"ANNABELLE!" 

Rhea stood immediately, moving to her daughter's side with a swiftness, fear clutching her heart for she knew that tone all too well; her husband was furious. How long had they been away? What would he do when he found them? Her mind was racing, matching the uncontrollable beating of her heart, but she tried as best she could to maintain a calm demeanor for her daughter's sake. She reached for Annabelle's hand and squeezed gently, a silent assurance that all would be well, though she only halfheartedly believed it herself. 

 Annabelle's heart was pounding. It seemed that time had stopped in this world, the harmony irreparably broken; the silence was suffocating, magnifying the sound of each heavy footstep tenfold. A dark shadow rounded the nearest hedge, blocking the sun's light. As her father stepped into view, tight lipped, anger seeping from his pores, his looming presence made her cringe. She glanced at her mother, whose face betrayed none of her true feelings, desperately searching for a way to draw upon her strength. 

"Why are you not preparing for Lord Ravenswood's arrival? Was I not clear that his visit was of the utmost importance?" His voice was low and smooth yet ice cold. He paused for a moment making his intentions unclear; it was as if he were both awaiting an answer yet daring her to speak. 

"Sir...?" Annabelle squeaked questioningly. 

Before her father could launch into a tirade, Rhea interjected, "Oh yes, Lord Ravenswood. I am sorry, my dear; I failed to mention his visit to our Annabelle as you requested. The fault is mine, dearest, you see? She was not aware..." 

"And you will be dealt with accordingly." he snapped, cutting her off. He knew she was trying to smooth things over; she was always protecting the girl, feeding into her silly notions of love and passion when she should be preparing her to be a humble and attentive wife. That would end today, he would see to that. His attention returned to Annabelle. "He has asked for your hand in marriage and I have obliged. This evening, after we sup, he will propose and you are to accept without question. It is time for you to take your place in this world. You are not a child and we will no longer coddle you." He paused briefly, cutting his eyes at his wife before continuing, "I trust that you will live up to his expectations." 

Annabelle was devastated, not only by her father's announcement but by her mother's decision to hide it from her; she felt betrayed. "But Father..." her words of protest were cut short by a swift and powerful slap to the face. The force of the blow knocked the rose from its resting place behind her ear,causing it to land in a crumpled heap by her feet. 

"YOU DARE DEFY ME?" her father roared. 

Annabelle lowered her eyes to stare at the ground, a gestureof submission she'd perfected many years ago. 

"John..." Rhea gasped, one hand covering her mouth in shock, the other reaching out as if to prevent what had already happened. She flinched and stepped back as he raised his hand again, a warning to keep her mouth shut lest she suffer the same fate. 

He directed his rage back at his daughter, "Go clean yourself up at once! You will be presentable for Lord Ravenswood or I will see to it that you never set foot in this garden again! Is that understood?"