Annabelle - a romantic tragedy

Mr.Wilkinsons

Annabelle's Point of View

        The family was sitting around the leisure room table, deep in conversation when Mr. Gaffins, our trusted butler came to call on us.

        "Mr. Wilkinsons for Mr.Callendale please. He is expecting you in the lobby sir." He announced.

"Why of course. Tell him I shall see him shortly." Frank replied quickly, and with a short bow, Mr. Gaffins retired to the hallway. Shortly afterwards, Frank rose and excused himself to see after his visitor.

     "But we simply must invite the Flackwoods darling! They are so well respected and Miss Flackwood has been a kind acquaintance of our own Mr.Callendale for some time, hasn't she? It would be a shame not to have them at your wedding, wouldn't it Annabelle?"

        "Why of course Mother. If you think it best." I replied courteously and excused myself to check on Frank who had been with Mr. Wilkinsons for quite some time now.

        Perhaps he should like to introduce me to this Mr. Wilkinsons? I'd heard a great many stories of him from his shared childhood with Frank. Quite the likeable young man I'd been told.

Down the staircase I went, lifting my skirts slightly and stepping both softly and quietly. I practiced walking with grace, as a young lady ought to, all the while trying to show my best side. Of course I should come across quite sophisticated if I wanted to be accepted by one of Frank's closest friends.

        As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard hushed voices. I looked around the corner by the staircase and managed to get a good view of the main entranceway and the lobby.

        I sunk back into the shadows to observe. What could they possibly have to hide? I leaned out to get a better view, and caught sight of my fiancée in deep conversation with a scruffy looking gentleman. "You simply must stop getting yourself into trouble all the time! You know I can't always be there to help you out." I heard my husband say.

        I waited to hear the response. When it came I was surprised to hear a low, and charming voice. "Just this once, I promise I'll try to clean myself up. You know what'll happen if anyone finds out. Just a little bit to help me out? Please?"

        Frank reached into his waist-pocket, and I heard the rich fabric slide against leather. I guessed that he'd pulled out his pocketbook. "You know me and Annabelle are getting married. I need to show her that I can be a strong and stable husband, especially now. I can't keep helping you out like this." he muttered as he flipped through the bills.

        Upstairs we could hear the chairs get pushed back and my father, with my mother in tow make their way towards the stairs. Frank and Mr. Wilkinsons looked towards the staircase nervously and I pulled myself back into the shadow of the high railings, feeling like a spy. Then I listen as the door opens, feet shuffle towards the door, the door closes and my mother slowing to discuss flowers upstairs still a ways away. I turn and quickly hurry up the stairs to my father.

        "They weren't there. Perhaps they have gone out in the garden to admire the view as they talk?" I puff, fully out of breath after my sprint up the stairs and my tight dress. I give a weak smile and try to look non-chalent.

        "Darling, how many times have I told you not to run up the stairs like a, like a.. Well it really isn't fit manners for a lady! Take a good example of Frank. Mr. Callendale is such a gentleman!" my mother scolded.

        I frowned and my father quickly responded to my expression. "Your mother is absolutely right! You are soon to be married, and you really must learn to act like it."

        "Yes father, yes mother" I replied obediently, knowing not to argue. As we reached the bottom of the staircase Frank came in.

        "And how is Mr.Wilkinsons?" My mother asked, directing the question at Frank. I turned, being myself very interested.

        "Very well it seems" Frank lied smoothly. "News spreads like fresh bread. He had come to wish us well for our wedding and offer his assistance where needed."

        "Oh how kind!" my mother exclaimed happily and I frowned again. Lies are never a good way to start a marriage.