In This Life..., The Tell of Annabel

[Special Guest]

“I shall accept it unquestioningly,” Annabel averred and James vibrated with joy, his fingers trembling and nearly unable to manage the tiny clasp that would secure his Promise. Annabel looked at those hands, large for the work they were doing, evidence of the work they had done as plain as writing on those hands. Those hands had swung the hammers that shod horses. They had pulled on the ropes that hung sheets from great masts. They had done arduous Man's work. And they had deftly clasped the fine gold strand, testimony to his Truth. Indeed, those rough hands had made such a fragile thing and could again, she did not doubt.

James smiled up from his knees, only now realizing that Annabel had said more, though all after 'I shall accept...' was merely accompanying music to his heart strings. No, that wasn't true. He had heard every word as he might a gospel. He remained on his knee as he held her hand. He answered the question she asked. "Did you love her?"

"Until the day she died," James swore it like an oath. Then, he gently kissed the smooth skin of her wrist and rose to stand before her, smiling sadly. "You unquestioningly asked the only question that really mattered.

"And, 'In for a penny, in for a pound' is a philosophy I believe in," he held her hand as he bade her walk with him to their carriage. When they stood beside the board, James bent at his knees to firmly place his hands at her hips, her hands clutching at his shoulders as he rose and easily lifted her back up to her seat. "So, I shall tell you all."

James moved to the other side and quickly stepped up to rest beside her. He merely dusted the horse with his reins and the beast began the slow pull back up the cliffside road. The mists were thickening and they could already hear the bells ringing at the lighthouse at Meadowcroft. Those bells did not invite, but rather, warned away.

"Her name was Jane Goodwin and she was born with so much that most of us are not," James did not hold the reins, letting them lay on his lap. The horse knew where to go. "She was born into wealth, to a family that loved her and furnished her with all the things she should need or want to be happy. They gave her everything that could be given and she lacked the only two things she ever wanted that they could never give her.

"Strength and love," James almost pouted. "Not the love of father or mother, but a romantic love, like she had always read about in her own books, in her own library, trapped there for her other lack. Strength. Her health was poor. She barely survived her birthing, I was told. Barely survived her childhood. Barely survived her adolescence.

"She barely survived our first meeting," Annabel saw a wistful smile purse his lips before fading. "I had finished two years on the Leucothea, a Greek fisher on the Meditteranean, and had cashed in my time to purchase a handsome hansom and an even more handsome bull to pull her.

"Not you, loafer," James teased his horse, though the animal gave no sign that it was just fondly insulted. "I applied as a staff coachman at many estates, finally hired by the Goodwin's of Northumberland. It was my first day and the entire staff had turned out to be introduced, including the groundskeeper and gamesman, who groused a bit at missing their opportunity for pheasant as the day dragged on toward afternoon.

"The reason most carriage horses are foaled mares or geldings is," James tone became instructional, suddenly, a small humor in his eyes. "...one does not really... appreciate... a spirited beast... pulling their wagons. And I should say that my handsome bull was not so much spirited as it was cowardly, for no sooner had the Goodwin's little Yorkshire Terriers come out to greet their new company, then old Balderdash took off like a zephyr, screaming like a bee stung girl child.

"Jane had been sitting not far off, in her wheelchair, the clean air part of her constitutional regimen," James took a deep breath and sighed. "Balderdash would have ended her most horribly. There was none near enough or fast enough to stop the terrified locomotive. So I did the only thing I could do. I snatched the gamesman's rifle from his shoulder, loaded a cartridge, and shot Balderdash.

"I would have fallen to my knees at her feet and begged allowances if I was not suddenly cheered and congratulated," James showed his surprise as if it had just happened again. "Well, to say the least, I was dumbstruck, made a hero for saving the distressed damsel from the deranged beast... that I had lost control of in the first place.

"As a gratitude, Jane gifted me a mare, thrice foaled, to pull my cart," James shrugged. "With the condition that I should be her priority if called upon. Her father said it would be so, without concern, and I agreed, without concern. Her mother silently showed her concern with a challenging glare at me. I lowered my eyes and showed obedient contrition until she stopped glaring at me.

"It took a while," James added with a smile. "It was obvious Jane fancied me and, at first, I played along, blushing at her teasing and laughing at her jokes. Months passed pleasantly with her transparent ploys and apparent enjoyment of my company. I felt rather proud of myself for bringing such joy into the poor weak girl's life.

"Until, one day, as winter came on, she took a bad turn," James shook his head. The mists were beading on his hair. "She wintered in the south of France, with her mother, and all that winter, I lived with a fear of loss that I could only explain as love. I loved her. How could I not know that? How could I sit with her every day and not know that I loved her? How happy might that have made her? How unhappy her father, that a poor boy should love his only daughter, though I cared little?

"She wrote almost daily," James seemed to calm, having lost some composure with the memory. "I wrote her, too, my crabbed writing improving well that winter. I confessed my sorrow at her absence and when it pleased her to know it, I confessed my love. She promised me her heart and she told how her strength improved for her longing to hear my voice again. She would be returning come May, on her birthday, and I promised her a celebration and a kiss.

"And a gift," James looked at the fine chain of imperceptable links on Annabel's wrist and smiled. "I was as poor then as I am now. I never meant for it to be so delicate... or fine. I had so little. I could not afford anything as beautiful as I could imagine and what value that, to a girl who had all and more as a birthright. So, with a dreary winter leaving me largely unemployed, I made this, strand by strand, link by link, nearly blinded and arthritic for all my work."

He almost laughed. Almost smiled.

"Her last post described her travel arrangements and I waited at the port every day for the arrival of the Nereides, to see my Jane and hold her hand until she was safe at home."

He almost sobbed. Almost cried.

"She passed in her sleep the day after they set sail," James showed Annabel the pain in his eyes, smiling apologetically. "She did not suffer. She simply... passed.

"She never kissed," James shook his head to clear it. "She never held hands. She never danced. She never wandered the lonely, misty moors at night.

"She never had a night like this." James smiled sadly, unable to stop a lone tear. "And neither had I."

[Annabel Ashdown]

Annabel giggled with both nerves and delight as James shakily fastened the bracelet about her wrist. “It’s truly beautiful,” she said, raising her hand to show off the sparking delicacy of the piece. She followed him hand in hand towards the carriage, quite sure that this night could not be any more perfect if it had been divinely planned…

She blushed a childish shade of pink as James once again placed his hands at her waist to help lift her up onto the carriage. And, wrapping her arms around herself to protect against the cold of the evening, she settled back into the seat and curiously watched as James began to explain why he had the bracelet, and for whom it was intended…

Annabel listened to James’ story mesmerised from start to finish, and, despite a slight bubbling of envy beneath her attentive exterior, it made her realise how lucky she really was. Of course, she had little idea of her own heritage and barely a penny to her name – nothing in comparison to the wealth and privilege of Jane, but Annabel had her health.

As James pointed out, she was well enough to go dancing, she could take her long walks which she loved so much, and although she couldn’t afford pretty dresses or expensive jewellery, she was happy. A little bored up until tonight, but now that she had met James that boredom had faded away into unrelenting joyfulness.

She paid great attention to James’ tale, feeling that his confidence to open up to her with a story so personal, and clearly still rather raw, most certainly deserved her courtesy.

She would almost have considered the desperately sad romance to be unbelievable were it not for the emotion in James’ telling of it. His distanced glances, bittersweet smiles of reminiscence, and occasional lack of composure, made Annabel believe for certain that he was telling the absolute truth.

“But she had your love…” Annabel said, running the soft pad of her thumb over James’ cheek, smearing away his single tear – his emotion was touching… “And I’m sure she valued that above all,” She said with a sincere smile, tainted with a slight sadness for the tragedy that James had had to face.

[Special Guest]

“But she had your love…” Annabel said, running the soft pad of her thumb over James’ cheek, smearing away his single tear. “And I’m sure she valued that above all,”

"Words on paper," James sighed as he shouldered out of his coat and draped it around... his Annabel. She would have been warmer and drier inside, but he would give her his under shirt and dare the chill fog with only his bare skin just to keep her by his side. "She deserved more."

He said little for a spell. He had surrounded her shoulders with one arm, gently drawing her to recline more comfortably against him. The ride back was all uphill. It would take longer. She felt his hand warming against her arm as he slowly stroked her.

Annabel started suddenly, as if waking from a doze, and James soothed her by lending warmer comfort to his embrace. Annabel had no air to gasp as she started. She was suffocating. And cold. It was dark.

But, no. She was warm and safe and she could still smell the peat smoke in James' coat from the fire at the dance. She must have dozed, though she could not imagine it. Could she?

"Are you all right, Annabel?" he whispered softly in her ear.

[Annabel Ashdown]

Annabel was thankful for James’ coat, shielding her against the cold of the early morning air. She sighed as well as she snuggled closer into James’ side, his hand at her waist and her head upon his shoulder, her hair tumbling over the coarse collar of his jacket.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” She said, placing a comforting hand upon his knee, for she was certain that he did. His wistful sigh indicated to her that he thought he could have done more, “You couldn’t have known…” She said, blinking a couple of times to fight back her sleepiness.

Then all of a sudden it was as though she couldn’t breathe. Not breathlessness, but almost as if the air had thickened into a suffocating density. The night seemed to fold in around her, whatever starlight there might have been masked by the darkness about her. Despite James’ coat she suddenly shuddered with a sudden penetrating cold, cutting deep into her flesh and to the bone. But then, as quickly as the awful feeling had appeared, it faded away, leaving her doubtful as to whether she’d ever felt it at all.

“I…” She started when James asked if she was alright, “I’m sure I’m quite fine…” She said, although her tone suggested that she didn’t truly believe herself. “Must have momentarily drifted off…” She explained doubtfully.

[Special Guest]

“I’m sure I’m quite fine…” Annabel said, although her tone suggested that she didn’t truly believe herself. “Must have momentarily drifted off…”

"'Momentarily'?" James smiled questioningly, nodding upward, his profile a black edge in the growing dawn. "We are back at Meadowcroft already."

Indeed, they were parked beneath the carriage port and she could see the steady drizzle misting the early, early morning. She might have slept an hour or more. There was a single window lighted by a lamp and that would likely be Mrs. Lynch. Annabel would have to sneak in to get an hour's sleep before she, too, must rise.

"With the sun we are servants," James turned on his bench to more warmly hold his Annabel. He kissed her sweetly on her lips and pressed his cheek to her cheek, to whisper in her ear. "But come to me on the cliffs tonight and I will show you yet more magic.

"I have no other thought than you now, my Annabel," he held her to stare down into her sparkling eyes. "Will you come back to me tonight?"

[Annabel Ashdown]

“Oh, perhaps not so momentarily then…” She trailed off, feeling a little disorientated, but rubbing her eyes she was able to make out the clear and familiar spires of Meadowcroft, cut out like paper dolls against the dawn. It had seemed as though she had only closed her eyes briefly, as briefly as if she had blinked, but here she was an hour along the line and safely back home. “I apologise for not being the greatest conversationalist on the way back,” She added with a soft, somewhat shy giggle.

She ran a hand through her hair, breaking the beads of drizzle that had settled there like beads of rain upon a cobweb. James was right, during the day they were at the whim of the housekeeper, or well, whomever it was that a chauffeur answered to. And with Mrs. Lynch’s strict rules about keeping the male and female staff apart, it was unlikely that they would get to see each other at all during the hours of light.

“Then let us be forever in darkness,” She said on a sudden passionate whim, for if that was what it took to be with him, she would gladly turn from sun and into the night. She returned his sweet kiss, both completely content and completely giddy in his warmth, with his breath against her cheek. Being near him seemed to stir up a wonderful flurry of contradictions within her.

“Of course I will,” She said, looking up into James’ eyes as he asked her to come back to him the following night. “I shall find you where we first met…” She said with a knowing smile, as though the cliffs were a place for the two of them alone, and their rendezvous a complete secret. Still, she was wary of his ‘magic’ – she had been warned about young, passionate men and their frequently changing whims, and she did not want to wind up as she assumed her own mother had.

She shimmied out of James’ overcoat, handing it back to him before she left for the house. “Until then then…” She said, with a slight flutter of her eyelashes as she pressed a single soft kiss to his cheek…