by Dalia Wright
“Well, milady,” the woman whispered as her cheeks blushed. “They are not for the wedding; they are for the wedding night.”
Annie’s fists were clenched, and she began breathing heavy with anxiety as she realized what she had forgotten to take into account this whole time: the wedding night. Just the thought of making love to McShaw sent Annie into a whirlwind of panic, and the woman stepped back and grabbed a fan from the dressing table. She began fanning Annie profusely, signaling the girls to get Annie’s mother.
“Now, now, dear,” the woman said, attempting to reassure Annie. “Every proper young lady gets nervous about the wedding night but don’t worry about a thing; it is a beautiful expression of love.”
Annie stood up at the sound of the word love, knocking several jars off the dressing table and tipping the chair backwards. She walked forward and grasped on to the bedpost in her mother’s room and closed her eyes, her hand grasping her chest. Annie’s mother rushed into the room and over to Annie, putting both of her hands on Annie’s cheeks and raising her head up to face hers.
“Annie,” her mother murmured. “Take a deep breath. This is all natural, and I promise it won’t be as bad as you think. When it is time, grab your mind somewhere else, leave your body, and ride your beautiful horse through the fields in your mind. It is your duty as a woman, and we must take the bad with the good.”
Annie looked up at her mother, slightly shocked by her indignant tone, but took at as a sign that her theatrics must end and she needed to get on with it. Annie walked back over and sat in the chair at the dressing table, smiling shyly at the woman holding the fan. Between the bath, the hair, the makeup, and Annie’s breakdown it was nearly two in the afternoon, and it was time for Annie to get into her dress and head to the church. She dressed slowly, her maids making sure every ribbon was straight, and every button was secure. She turned towards the mirror when they were finished and looked at a young woman she barely recognized.
The massive white gown was loose at her breasts and became tight through her ribs, stomach and down to her hips. It then shot outwards and cascaded down to the floor, giving the effect of royalty as she peered through the looking glass. She looked beautiful, proper, and ready to be wed, something she despised immensely. She turned towards the door as her hands gathered the excess of dress and train and they made their way to the front door. Once Annie was on the porch, she looked up to see her father standing at the door to the carriage, one hand reaching out towards her. Annie walked towards him and allowed him to help her into the carriage, though half of the dress had to be stuffed in like a sausage.
Annie looked up to see her father and Brighton sitting across from her in the carriage, and she blushed as they both looked at her in awe. Annie pulled her dress in closer to her, creating a bubble, and peered out the open window of the carriage and watched as her mother joined the seamstress in another cart behind them. Annie’s father cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Annie,” her father began to speak. “You look beautiful. We are so proud of you. Please try to enjoy yourself today, and if it gets that bad Brighton can show you the way.”
Annie looked up at her father, confused, and then shifted her gaze to Brighton, who nodded suspiciously but stared back out the window. Before Annie could speak up to ask what he meant by that, the carriage began to move forward, and butterflies leapt into Annie’s throat. The ride to town was shorter than she would have liked it to be and the smell of the perfume the maid had sprayed on her was starting to choke her. Annie pulled at the neck of the dress as the carriage pulled up to the side of the church where the door to the prayer room sat. She would be shown into that chamber, prepped again, and then she would wait for her father to get her to walk her down the aisle.
When the carriage was at a complete stop, Brighton and her father carefully manoeuvred the door around her gown and helped her out, holding the excess dress up so it wouldn’t touch the dirt. Annie tripped slightly and grabbed onto Brighton for stabilization, meeting his light blue eyes as she tumbled forward. There was something so familiar about those eyes, and Annie had to stop herself from staring too long at the right hand of her future husband.
Annie’s father kissed her forehead and walked her to the prayer room doors. She entered the warm room, and the staff of eleven girls began picking and poking at her until they all felt she was ready. To Annie’s surprise, when the team left she was left by herself in the prayer room, her father speaking with McShaw and her mother being seated in the church. She turned towards the door as the breeze blew through and closed her eyes, imagining that she was sitting on her front porch on this warm summer evening. The sound of an organ playing hymnals drew her back to the dank room in the back of the church, and her palms began to sweat.
Annie started to panic a little and question everything she had decided on just a couple of days before. Her mind began to cloud, and she jumped as she heard the heavy footsteps of her father walking along the creaky wooden floor back to the prayer room. Annie began to pace, and her fight or flight response started to kick in. A million things ran through her head, and the footsteps grew louder and louder as if a giant were walking through the church. Annie threw her veil off and onto the floor, and everything seemed to move in slow motion at that point.
She could no longer think logically, and Annie’s fear had taken over her conscious mind. She gathered her dress in her hands as the footsteps stopped outside of her door and bolted out of the open door to the outside. She stopped momentarily and looked around; no one was in sight since everyone was already seated inside the church. Her mind raced as she tried to decide what the best route for escape was but as she heard her father opening the other door slowly, she took off toward the back of the church and into the strip of woods behind it.
Annie’s feet moved faster than her mind, and she caught the large train of her dress on sticks and branches as she ran. She didn’t have any idea where she was going, but she knew she had already made her choice, and there was no turning back now. She raced through the woods, far enough inward that no one would see her running as the sun shone down through the trees. Annie felt as if she had been running forever when she finally reached the clearing that led directly out of the town.
Annie knew her father would stall momentarily, but everyone would be looking for her as soon as McShaw found out she had fled. She kept her nose down and continued to run down the dusty road past empty fields, and patches of forest left untouched after the settlement. When her dress had finally become too heavy for her to carry at such speeds she began to slow down and spotted a section of woods ahead where she decided she would stop and rest. Once she was seated on a wobbly old log, her mind began to clear, and tears streamed down Annie’s face. She had just run out on her family, on her duty as a daughter, and now she could never go back.
Annie heard the clomping of horse hooves and spun around and lay down in the leaves behind the stump, fearing it was McShaw and his men. The clomping slowed and came to a stop right outside of the parcel of trees where Annie was hiding. Annie took a deep breath and closed her eyes, hoping they would continue, but was startled when she heard a familiar voice from the road.
“Annie,” Brighton whispered loudly. “Don’t be afraid. Your father sent me. Come out here. If you don’t, you are sure to be found, and I can promise you McShaw will have his way with you and then throw you and your family in the streets.”
At the thought of McShaw’s hands on her and the vision of her mother begging in the same streets she fed the poor, Annie stood up slowly and walked towards the edge of the woods. She stopped right at the edge and hid slightly behind a tree, peering out at Brighton and the horse he had trailing him. It was her stallion; Brighton had brought her horse to her, but it could be a trap. After all, Brighton was McShaw’s right-hand man.
“How do I know I can trust you?” Annie yelled out.
Brighton reached into a satchel on the horse and pulled a folded
up piece of paper from it and tossed it to the edge where Annie was standing. She opened the paper and found her father’s handwriting on the inside and a line that simply read, “Just in case. Trust Brighton.” Annie knew her father’s handwriting, and she realized he had a backup plan since he feared she might run from the church. Annie sighed and stepped forward towards her horse. She looked up at Brighton, who was smiling and looking down at her with his familiar blue eyes, and for a moment Annie felt completely safe. She took Brighton’s hand and climbed onto her horse, piling her massive dress behind her and grabbing the reins.
Annie looked at Brighton for guidance, and he winked as he took off down the dirt road away from town and out into the country. Annie took off behind him, unbuttoning the top buttons of her gown and letting her hair flow freely in the wind as she made her way toward an unknown place where she was determined to find answers that would help her and her family.
Chapter 5: Plans Revealed
After about an hour of riding, Brighton took a right-hand turn down a dusty road that was lined with apple trees. The sun was beginning to get lower towards the horizon and Annie was relieved to be slowing down. As they trotted along the path, Annie looked around for the first time since she had run out of the church and she could see the bees, busy working under the fruit trees, and the dragonflies skimming the tops of the tall grass in the fields that encircled the farm. Annie took in a deep breath and let the setting sun’s warmth creep into her heart.
Annie and Brighton rounded the corner and in front of her was a large, white house resembling the Mayor’s mansion from her hometown. Confused as to where they were, Annie looked over at Brighton for answers. However, Brighton continued forward towards the stables without a hint of explanation. They rode their horses into the large wooden barn where Brighton jumped off his and pulled a stepping stool over to Annie’s horse. Usually, she would scoff at such a gesture, but the weight of her gown would surely pull her straight into the ground so she took his hand and gingerly made her way off her steed.
Brighton began walking towards the house, and Annie reached out and grabbed his hand, turning him towards her. She took in a deep breath and looked around in awe at the beauty of the land they were standing on. She looked at the house and then back at Brighton who was standing in front of her, clothes dirty from chores, but a bright smile washing across his face.
“Where are we?” Annie asked.
“Well,” Brighton said looking down at his hand that Annie was still tightly grasping. “We are at my parents’ estate two towns from yours to the East. I figured this would be the safest place for you to gather yourself and decide what you plan on doing now that you have run away from the richest man within 500 miles of here.”
“Oh,” Annie said, pulling her hand back to herself with embarrassment. “Do they know I am coming? I don’t want to endanger them.”
“Endanger?” Brighton chuckled at the thought. “McShaw is only powerful where he can throw his money around; here is not one of those places. No one in this town fears him a bit. And yes, they know you are coming, your father and I made a backup plan because, well, let’s just say he knows you better than you know yourself.”
Annie looked down at her dress, which was now covered in dirt and leaves and felt the sides since something had been rubbing her leg the entire trip. She reached down and realized there were pockets secretly sewn on the sides. She looked up at Brighton, surprised, and stuck her hands in her pockets. Annie pulled out a satchel of gold pieces that had been hidden in her dress and immediately her eyes began to well up with tears.
“They knew all along,” Annie whispered. “They knew I couldn’t do it so they set all of this up.” Annie took in a deep breath and in place of sadness, anger began to circle in her chest. “I have to stop this man, Brighton! I have to give these people back their homes. I will not let him bully anyone else.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Brighton said chuckling. “Your father told me you had spirit but why don’t we get you inside and changed, maybe fed, and then we can talk about what is next. I have to be back tomorrow morning so I will be able to bring you news from the town about what happened after you made the great escape.”
Annie smiled, and a laugh came from her for the first time in days; it felt good. She followed Brighton into the house where she was introduced to the house staff and then taken to the bedroom she would be sleeping in for the next couple of days. It was huge, probably twice the size of her whole house, and the bed made her sleepy just looking at it.
“My parents are out of town, but my mother left some dresses for you there. Since you will be hiding out here, they aren’t anything fancy, and I think you will be comfortable. There is a wash basin over there,” Brighton said, pointing to a hand-carved dressing table with a porcelain bowl sitting on top. “And when you are cleaned up and dressed, come back downstairs for dinner; it should be just about ready.”
Annie nodded at Brighton as he closed the door, a small smile still on his face. She turned towards the bed where seven dresses were laid out in front of her, all with dainty, matching slippers. To her, these dresses were fancy, but to people like Brighton’s family, they were the clothes you wore when you were staying home or gardening. She chose a lovely blue dress that would complement her eyes and tore her gown off as if she were trying to save her life. Annie washed her face and hands of the makeup and dirt that had mixed during her run, slipped into her dress and shoes, and stood in front of the large mirror by the window, brushing her long, blonde locks.
For the first time in days, Annie recognized the girl in the reflection and a weight lifted quickly off her shoulders. She glanced out the window and caught sight of Brighton walking in the yard as the sky turned a dark orange and the sun began to set below the horizon. She shook her head after realizing she had been standing there, staring at the blue-eyed boy for a few minutes, and turned towards the door to her room. She made her way down the grand staircase where she was met by a small woman, middle-aged, dressed in a maid’s uniform and wearing a kind smile.
“This way, ma’am,” she said, as she led Annie into a large, formal dining room. “I will alert Master Brighton that you have arrived for dinner.”
Annie smiled politely and turned to look at the splendor of the decor in the dining area. The walls were covered in rich velvet tapestries and paintings were hung all over the place. To the right was a small sitting area with a large fireplace where the men probably had brandy and cigars after dinner. Above the fireplace was a painting of what looked like Brighton and his parents. He was much younger in the canvas, and his grimace was painted on nicely; she would recognize that frown anywhere. Annie chuckled to herself and jumped at the sound of Brighton’s voice behind her. She quickly turned around to face him, but he was no longer the dirty stable hand she had met a few days ago.
“My Uncle painted that portrait and thought it was only fitting to include my infamous frown,” Brighton said, laughing. “I am sure you are starving, let’s eat.”
Brighton held out his hand, and Annie politely took it and was led to a seat at the large dining table set for two. There were all kinds of food, enough to feed an entire town, and Annie couldn’t take her eyes off of the sweet potatoes piled in the center next to the roasted pig. Brighton moved his seat next to Annie’s, since the food was blocking any face-to-face contact and they sat quietly, filling themselves after their long day.
“So,” Annie said, swallowing the bite of bread she had stuffed in her mouth. “Why, with a lifestyle like this, would you need to work as a stable hand to a big jerk like McShaw?”
“Oh,” Brighton said, as if he were preparing for a long story. “Our town Mayor and Sheriff heard about what he is doing to your town and your people, and they are outraged. We wanted a way to learn as much about him as possible without giving away our intentions. So, I volunteered to get a job with him and be their spy. My father is a major investor in this town, and so they let me sit in on meetings sometimes.”
“So,” Annie said inquisitively, “what are your intentions?”
Brighton turned towards Annie and caught her eyes with his and for a moment, neither of them moved. Annie began to fidget in her seat, and she moved her eyes back to her plate and acted as if she hadn’t noticed that moment of awkwardness where her heart nearly stood still. Brighton turned back to his plate and cleared his throat.
“Oh, um, the town’s intentions,” he said as if he had been contemplating some other intentions. “We are going to march on your town and drive McShaw back where he came from as well as arrest your Sheriff and your Mayor for treason against the people. We have just been waiting for the right moment. Tomorrow I am going to give your father the details, find out where McShaw stands, and then hopefully by the end of the day Monday, two days from now, we will have them all in a cell in the town square.”
“My father is part of this?” Annie’s eyes grew wide and filled with excitement. “So, in a couple of days, I can go back home to my family?”
“That’s the plan,” Brighton said, smiling at Annie’s enthusiasm.
Annie was more than excited, and she spent the next hour drinking wine and telling Brighton about growing up on the farm in her town. He listened intently to every word she said, and never interrupted even though in normal circumstances her talkative behavior would be frowned upon. When Brighton watched Annie talk with passion, he began to feel it, too, and was mesmerized by her enthusiasm. Eventually, however, she began to tire, and a yawn escaped her mouth as she took the last sip of her wine.
“You must be exhausted,” Brighton said as he waved for the help to come forward. “Celia will take you upstairs and assist you to bed. I will not leave until you have awoken tomorrow; I have a surprise for you.”
Annie smiled as Brighton helped her to her feet and she leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. His face turned bright red, and Celia smiled to herself as she led Annie up the stairs and to her room. When Annie entered the room, the dresses were put away, and there was a nightgown in its place. Celia helped Annie undress and get into bed, where Annie was asleep before Celia could blow out the lamp on her bedside. Annie hadn’t slept like that in years, and the sound of crickets on the window sill left a feeling of warmth in her chest as she slipped into dreams.