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Chapter Seven
”Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.”
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein
* * *
FRIDAY, THE EVE BEFORE THE HALMESBURY AND RIDLEY WEDDING.
The past days had been a whirlwind of activity at Baydon Hall as the unexpected Saturday morning nuptials approached. It was late in the evening when Annabel sighed her relief to sink into the sofa in her bedchamber.
“Child, are you in there?” called Mrs. Harris from the open door.
“Yes, Mrs. Harris, come in.”
Annabel looked up as the rotund housekeeper closed the door behind her and made her way over. “I thought we might talk. Your mother, bless her heart, would have wanted to have this talk with you on the eve of your wedding. I know it’s not my place, but I also know if your dear mama is looking down on us right now, it would please her that someone was here to talk to you.”
“Please sit, Mrs. Harris. Do not stand on ceremony with me. We are friends. You are more my family than my own father.”
Mrs. Harris’s eyes glowed with love as she lowered herself onto the sofa. “Tomorrow morning you wed, young lady.”
Annabel beamed in response.
“My girl, there are things you need to know about your wedding night. I am afraid I must be the one to tell you, as your beloved mama cannot. Since she passed when you were so little, I know she never had this talk with you.”
“I think I know some basics as I have read some of the animal husbandry texts in the library,” Annabel admitted, her cheeks pinking. “But I cannot say I know exactly what to expect. Lord Saunton and Caroline were … well … indiscreet, but I fear there must be more to it than that. I would appreciate your counsel. Though…” She looked away, her voice faltering with embarrassment. “… this is a most awkward discussion.”
Mrs. Harris coughed delicately, a faint blush tinging her own cheeks. “Indeed, young lady. I have only had this talk once before with my daughter, many years ago. And I buried my husband before I came to Baydon Hall, so I may be rusty on the subject.”
Annabel nodded her encouragement.
“What do you think you know, child?” Mrs. Harris continued.
The housekeeper stayed with Annabel for close to an hour. Annabel asked many questions, and the older woman answered with gentle candor, doing her best to prepare the young bride. When Mrs. Harris finally took her leave, Annabel reflected fondly on their shared history. Mrs. Harris had become a motherly figure to her since her mother’s passing, and she would dearly love for the duke to offer her the position of housekeeper at Avonmead. Mrs. Harris was one of the few aspects of her life at Baydon Hall that she would miss. Her presence would bring much-needed comfort and familiarity as Annabel embarked on her new life.
Alone with her thoughts, Annabel drifted into a reverie. Her dreams of making a love match with Richard now seemed a lifetime ago. She could scarcely believe how much had changed in just a month.
She curled her legs beneath her night rail, her slippers discarded on the floor. Unbidden, memories of Richard came to her, a bittersweet echo of her younger self’s foolish dreams.
“Why are you crying, Annabel?”
“The other girls said I laugh too much. They said if I had a mother to teach me how to behave, I would know better. They do not wish to play with me anymore. And Father says I am an unfashionable piece who will never attract a decent husband.”
“Annabel, they are silly, jealous girls who don’t know how to make their own happiness like you do. Forget them, and I will be your friend. As for your father, he is a vainglorious fool who knows nothing of fashion. Why, he wears one of those atrocious eye lockets, and I don’t believe it’s even an image of your mother’s eye?”
Annabel had fallen in love with Richard on the spot. He had always been kind to her, including her in his adventures when he visited her brother.
Her tears dried as she gave him a cheeky smile. “You are correct. The eye locket is of his grandmother.”
Richard burst out laughing. “That is perfect! Now, young lady, are you going to go riding with me?”
Annabel shook her head to dispel the memory. She had once thought Richard perfect, but she now saw his flaws clearly. His betrayal had crushed her infatuation. Love, she realized, involved trust and understanding. It decidedly did not involve indiscretions with a maid in the stables.
It was time to focus on making a success of her new circumstances. Philip was different—genuine, steady, kind. She believed him when he had promised fidelity and partnership. Their relationship might not have the passionate intensity she had once dreamed of, but it could grow into something deep and meaningful. She could not deny that the duke stirred her senses and her mind.
The absence of her brother Brendan at her wedding saddened her. Yet, as her father refused to discuss him or his whereabouts, she would have to embrace her new life without him. She silently resolved to find Brendan someday, to reunite with the sibling who had once been her closest confidant.
Her thoughts turned to Philip again. He did not crave admiration or social acclaim like Richard. Instead, he focused on improving his lands, serving his tenants, and championing the needs of his community. In their brief time together, they had shared meaningful discussions, discovering a harmony in their beliefs.
