He sat down and began to write.
Dear Mother,
It may come as a surprise to receive two letters in two days from me, but there is a matter that I need to make you aware of.
I have been spending quite a lot of time with Miss Latimer, Frances, while we have both been residing at Hedley House. I had not expected to see Frances, but it was a welcome surprise. She seemed pleased to see me, and we have been enjoying each other’s company.
I have a confession now, Mother, which may come as a surprise. For many years I have favoured Frances above any other woman I have met. The ten-year age difference always made me aware she might not welcome any interest from me, so I held my counsel.
Being with her once more convinced me this time, age difference or no, I had to speak, so a few days ago I asked Frances to be my wife. She expressed a desire to have some time to think about it, of which I understood because of the reason I mentioned above. I was obviously hopeful she would overlook my age and agree to be my partner in life.
Today she has given me my answer, and I am ashamed to admit it was not the answer I was expecting. She said she cannot be my wife. You will curse my arrogance in being completely shocked at her words and, to tell you the truth, a little at a loss as to what to do.
She thinks I will tire of her, that she is from a different social sphere and you are expecting a better match and will not approve! I could not convince her she was wrong on any point. You may be thinking I am trying to convince someone who is set against me, but you know me too well and know I would never force my suit on anyone if I thought she did not regard me in some respect.
Mother, I am convinced she likes me, my vanity aside. When I left her I was angry and said some things I will regret for a long time to come. I need to ask: why have you given the impression to Frances that my wife would be of the highest calibre? We both know I am a gentleman’s son and was only expecting to marry a gentleman’s daughter. I had no misplaced aspirations and hope you have not been harbouring any all these years. If you have, I am afraid you are to be disappointed, Mother. I’ve only ever wanted one woman and cannot see settling for another.
This letter is half an outlet to express my feelings; I cannot mention them to anyone in the household even though they are decent people. It is half wanting to explain my situation and ensure you have not been harbouring any ideas that will be disappointed.
I hope this letter finds you well. I do feel calmer after venting my spleen on these pages and only regret that, although I have travelled the world, I could not find the words to convince Frances to be my wife.
Your ever affectionate son,
Stuart
He folded the paper and addressed it and rang for it to be sent. There was no advantage in reprimanding his mother; she was no fool, and there was no point upsetting her at her age.
He slumped in his chair; he felt quite drained. A bright well-planned future had been ripped from underneath him in one sunny morning, and he was not quite sure of what to do next.
*
The household that had been jovial and noisy suddenly appeared to lose its soul. Frederick remained in his room, directing his staff on what items he wanted packed. His mother, Caroline and Susan all tried to convince him to stay, but he remained firm.
Annabelle had not been to visit him for four days, since the morning he had told her of his plans. He could hardly blame her, but he missed her. He cursed himself for his weakness; he was embarking on a journey that would result in him never seeing her again: he had better get used to not seeing her.
Annabelle did not take lightly her decision not to visit Frederick. She tossed and turned every night, trying to think of ways to force him to stay, but in reality she hardly knew him. That was the thought that hurt the most; she had been convinced they were becoming closer: he had said he would be patient and now, when they were facing the first hurdle as a couple, he was willing to throw everything away and leave. It did not make sense because it went against the patience he was showing her in the relationship side of the marriage.
She hurt. It was no longer because of her fall on the ground; this was something far deeper. She had been let down by him, the man who made her feel safe. When he was gone there would be no one who would protect her, no one to convince her not all men were the same. She had begun to believe she had been unlucky with Mr Wadeson. Now Frederick had hurt her—in a different way, yes, but just as damaging.
The day for Frederick’s departure arrived, and Caroline knocked on Annabelle’s chamber door. She was granted entry by a pale-faced Annabelle, her only colour being the dark rings under her eyes.
“Annabelle, you need to tell him how you feel,” Caroline said, desperate to stop her brother leaving on such terms.
“It won’t make any difference,” Annabelle said listlessly.
“It might; is it not worth a try?” Caroline demanded.
Annabelle looked at her sister-in-law. She knew the sharp tone was caused by frustration and not ill feeling, but she was speaking to the wrong person. “He will not believe me; he is determined the only way is for him to disappear. I will not beg for his affection.”
Caroline threw up her hands in frustration. “We are never going to see him again, and none of us can do a thing about it!”
“I know,” Annabelle said quietly. “I know.”
Frederick walked slowly down the stairs of his family home. He loved this home and all its residents dearly. It was already imprinted on his memory; there was no need to try to remember it: he could have walked around it blindfolded. He was saddened he had been forced to make the decision he had even though he was convinced it was the correct one.
He was still sore from his beating even though over a week had passed since it happened. Travelling in the coach would be uncomfortable for the first few days, but he wanted to start the journey as soon as possible. Once he was able to start moving around he was likely to weaken in his resolve and then he would curse whenever the next incident happened, for there would always be a next time.
The family had gathered in the entrance hallway, all except his mother and Annabelle. His mother had taken to her bed as was usual each time there was an upset. He was sure she would be well, and said his goodbyes to her in private.
Annabelle was another matter. He hoped she would say goodbye, but he was not surprised by her absence. He had hurt her, but he had to believe she would be better off without him. They would not have married if only for someone walking in on them: yes, they had shared that first kiss, but it had almost been a kiss of sympathy. They both knew what it was to need to hide. Their kisses more recently had not been sympathy kisses though; he would regret their absence for a very long time, but he refused to dwell on what ifs. Yes, if he stayed they might have overcome their initial difficulties and been married in every sense of the word, but he could not put her through the real impact of what a marriage to him meant.
Caroline and Susan both had tear-stained faces, and Caroline made him smile by growling at him in frustration. “I don’t want you to go,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I know, but it is for the best,” Frederick said, giving his tough big sister a hug. Caroline usually shied away from overt signs of affection, but she clung to him like she was drowning.
“If you ever, and I mean even for a moment, if you ever want to come home, we will welcome you; you know that, don’t you? I don’t care if you have faked a dozen deaths, your bedchamber will be waiting.”
“I’m sorry, Caroline,” Frederick whispered, kissing her cheek. “Look after yourself and love Annabelle; she is so very precious and deserves to be happy.”
Frederick climbed into his carriage with a heavy heart. Life would never be the same, but in reality there was only one thing he would miss until his dying day, and she was in her bedchamber, her heart breaking.
Chapter 11
Three days had passed, and Annabelle could still not get through the day without crying. She had ne
ver felt so desolate in her life, and she didn’t know how to change things. The whole family were the same; it was as if the whole heart of the house left when Frederick left.
On the fourth day she eventually rose, splashing water on her face to try and hide the red-rims that were permanent features of her eyes since Frederick’s departure and dressed in a plain muslin gown. She had to do something. It struck her in the middle of the night that she could not let Frederick make this sacrifice. He had been forced into the marriage with her without knowing the truth and that was unjust.
So they had been caught kissing: it was irrelevant; he should have been told the truth. It had been the guilt of using him to run away from a situation that was too frightening to face that had disturbed her since they had kissed. She should not have used him in such a way, and now he was paying for her selfishness.
She loved him; she could not allow him to make such a sacrifice. Annabelle looked at her reflection in her looking glass: she had lost herself since being introduced to Mr Wadeson; he had beaten down her spirit, but she would force herself to be strong. Frederick was not going to be sacrificed for her mess.
Caroline looked up when Annabelle entered the dining room. “How are you feeling?” Caroline asked, not really needing an answer because of Annabelle’s sunken eyes and pale complexion.
“I need to find him; I am going to him,” Annabelle said firmly. “I was hoping you would know which direction he was taking.”
Caroline smiled with relief at Annabelle’s words. She was convinced that, no matter how uncertain their start had been, it was going to be Annabelle who convinced Frederick to return to his family. “He mentioned stopping at Stannage House to collect more belongings, but he spoke about going to Portugal.”
“Portugal?” Annabelle asked surprised. “That is a distance.”
Stuart entered the room and heard Annabelle’s words. “Portugal is a beautiful country,” he said, sitting at the table.
Frances followed Stuart into the dining room and sat, flushing a little but not meeting his gaze. She still stung from his words and for the first time since knowing him she felt uncomfortable in his presence.
Annabelle turned to Frances. “I’m sorry to drop this on you without warning, but I have to make a journey; if you’re available, and I will understand if you are not,” she said, with a quick glance in Stuart’s direction, “Would you be willing to accompany me?”
“I am available,” Frances said, refusing to look at Stuart. “Where are you going?”
“Possibly to Portugal,” Annabelle said.
“Portugal?” Frances and Stuart had spoken together, and both looked immediately embarrassed at their outburst.
Annabelle smiled at the first feeling of amusement she had felt for days. “Yes, Portugal. I’m going to convince my husband to return to his family.”
“Well, it looks like Portugal it is then,” Frances said, not wishing her friend to be going through marital difficulties but quite excited she would have the opportunity for travel.
“Thank you,” Annabelle said with feeling.
“If I could make a suggestion?” Stuart asked tentatively, his mind racing at the turn of events.
“Of course,” Annabelle responded.
“I have travelled to Portugal in the past and am fairly conversant with the language. Would you allow me to escort you? I feel I may prove useful when securing accommodation and the like.” He hoped to goodness Lady Stannage would accept his offer and not see it for the desperate action it was. He could not bear for Frances to be so far away from him. He might have spoken harshly, but he would lose her completely if she undertook such a trip.
Annabelle looked at Frances to try and assess what she thought of the scheme, but Frances kept her head firmly down, refusing to look at either of them. Annabelle thought Frances would say something if she did not wish Stuart to accompany them, so she made the decision for her friend.
“That would be very kind of you. It would make me feel more comfortable to be able to travel with someone who is so knowledgeable. Thank you for the offer,” she said with a smile.
“You’re welcome. I was going to take my leave of William in the next few days anyway; if you are amenable I could be at your disposal whenever required,” Stuart offered, looking at Caroline for her approval.
“As it will potentially bring my brother back, I have absolutely no objections,” Caroline responded.
“I know it’s sudden, but I would like to leave this afternoon if possible,” Annabelle said. Now that she had made the decision, she wanted to act immediately. Once Frederick was returned to his family, who knew what would happen to herself, but at the moment that was not important.
Breakfast was eaten quickly; then the house turned into a hive of activity as bags were packed and horses and carriage prepared. Annabelle was interrupted when she was changing into her travelling clothes.
Caroline entered Annabelle’s chamber with a letter in her hand. “I have news,” she said simply. Annabelle paused, and Caroline continued. “It’s from Simms not Frederick,” she explained. “It seems that Frederick was too optimistic when travelling and has picked up a chill. They decided to stay at Stannage House for a few days before commencing the arduous journey to Portugal.”
“I may be able to reach Stannage House in time,” Annabelle said. “It took us three leisurely days to reach here, so if we travel at speed, we should reach it in a couple of days,” she said, fastening the last few pearl buttons on her pelisse with determination.
“Don’t make yourself ill in the process; don’t forget you have tired yourself out these last few days,” Caroline appealed.
Annabelle paused; Caroline was usually so reserved, but she had become so accepting of Annabelle that it humbled the young girl. “I won’t; I have to reach him. It is wrong what he is doing, for reasons that he is unaware of, but thank you for your concern.”
Caroline gave a small smile. “I know how much he thinks of you, and I suspect how much you think of him.”
Annabelle felt tears spring to her eyes. “I love him and have never deserved him or any of you for that matter. Thank you for welcoming me, Caroline; I doubt our paths will ever cross again after today.”
Caroline frowned, “I don’t understand; why won’t you be returning with Freddy?”
“He wouldn’t be persuaded previously; if I were just offering the same argument, he would go on as before. I am going to tell him things that will hurt him, Caroline; please look after him when he returns,” Annabelle said quietly.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Annabelle?” Caroline asked her new sister.
“I won’t let him sacrifice himself for me. I am not worthy of such action,” came the firm reply.
Caroline flung her arms around Annabelle, the only contact they had ever shared. Annabelle squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears. She was certain she was doing the right thing, but that did not mean it was the easy option.
“Take care of yourself,” Caroline whispered, her own voice sounding choked.
“Please promise me you will look after him,” Annabelle said. “I don’t want him to be unhappy, but he will be when he first returns.” Frederick was going to feel used and taken advantage of; she doubted he would ever forgive her but, if it returned him to his family, it would be worth it.
“I will. Please consider writing to me at some point to let me know you are safe,” Caroline said, standing away from Annabelle.
Annabelle smiled. “It’s a pity you never met my older sister Rosalind; you are both like mother hens.”
“It’s part of the joy of being the eldest, I suppose,” Caroline smiled, linking Annabelle’s arm as they moved downstairs. “That and being able to bully younger siblings.”
“Yes, you would definitely get on famously together,” Annabelle responded, grateful for the lighter conversation.
Frances and Stuart were gathered in the hallway, watching luggage being secured to the carriage.
Stuart was going to ride during some of the journey, so he said his goodbyes and mounted his horse. The two ladies climbed into the carriage and the vehicle lurched forward.
The journey had begun.
*
The first leg of the journey was travelled in virtual silence, both women engrossed in their own thoughts. As nightfall approached, Annabelle roused herself. She had been a neglectful friend.
“Frances, have you given Stuart his answer yet?” she asked.
Frances flushed, “Yes, a few days ago. I refused his offer.”
Annabelle blew out her cheeks. “I thought you were going to do that,” she admitted. “I don’t understand why you can’t see in yourself what we can, but I suppose it is your decision. I take from this morning’s lack of interaction he did not take it well?”
“Not really,” Frances admitted. “He said some things that, although I know they were said in anger, he was justified in saying.”
“Oh, Frances!” Annabelle said in despair. “Stop being so nice! You should go out and grab him with both hands and never let him go.”
“I could never be so confident or open. I was brought up to be every inch the gentle-woman who behaves and blends into the background,” Frances admitted.
“That type person is usually taken advantage of or overlooked. Is that really what you want from your life?” Annabelle asked in disbelief.
“I want to be content, and I am, apart from when Stuart and you yourself keep telling me that I shouldn’t be!” Frances said indignantly.
Annabelle smiled. “We both want what’s best for you, and you do have to admit that Stuart is a handsome man.”
Frances mirrored the smile. “He is. And a good kisser too!”
“Oh, my goodness me, Frances! I’m shocked,” Annabelle laughed. She giggled before speaking. “Although I would question, if he truly is a good kisser, why you turned him down. Perhaps if he had been an expert kisser, you wouldn’t have been able to say no!”
Frances looked amused and shocked. “Annabelle! You are terrible! If those are the only kisses I ever have in my life, I will have had the best.”
Annabelle: A Regency Romance (The Four Sisters' Series Book 2) Page 11