Authors: Michelle Woodward
“OK.”
“Right, now I must go see what the bloody hell has just happened in the kitchen.”
Slowly walking out of the southern entrance, the brightness of the low sun caused Annabelle to squint. After adjusting her eyes she consumed the majestic landscaped beauty of the ornamental gardens.
In the foreground sat a large lake complete with islands which separated the hall from its huge estate. Annabelle spotted the Duke sitting in the sun while reading a book. She carefully negotiated the steps before walking across the gravel towards the terrace.
Annabelle’s heart pounded away as she nervously stepped towards the Duke, who sat with his back to the table while reading from his hardback novel. She felt gripped by fear when she noticed the table covered by sheets of technical drawings. “My Lord. I b… believe you wanted some lemonade.”
“Leave it on the table.”
“But your drawings, my Lord.”
“Ah, yes… I was lost in a good book. ”Charles turned around. “Wait one moment while I fold them and put them in my satchel.” His eyes then set Annabelle. “It’s you.”
“Yes.”
“Annabelle the book thief?” Charles listened to the glasses rattle on the tray. “You are acting as though you’re facing the guillotine.” After taking his drawing from the table, he gestured for Annabelle to place down the tray carefully. “No need to fear me. I didn’t think you were a thief for one second.”
“Thank you.”
“It was just nice to see someone with an interest in reading… especially a young woman like yourself..”
“It’s OK.”
Charles, then glanced at his book. “Like you, I escape in a good book.” He waited for Annabelle to reply, but noticed she just gazed at shoes. “Have you always read?”
“I learned a little from my mother. But I largely taught myself... around the age of eight.”
“Most impressive. It must be highly challenging … take a lot of self-determination.”
“I wanted to read my mother’s bible.”
Charles rolled up his drawings. “I always start my day by reading from the new testament “He then slid the drawings into a metallic tube. “How widely do you read? Voltaire, Shakespeare… maybe the classics.”
“Very few… in-fact just the bible.”
“But you should. Those intelligent eyes need words to feed on.”
“Forgive me, it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that I rarely come into contact with books. I don’t have the means.”
Charles poured the lemonade into his glass. “Is there not a library for you to visit… does your school not have books?”
“My parents didn’t have the money to send me to school… and, well, there isn’t a library in the village.”
“Well… One needs to start her collection.”
“That is a dream. But I fear that it will remain just that… a dream.”
“I have a library full of books that I have collected from all over the world. I need space to place my latest additions. One might just find its way into your hands should you play your cards right.”
“Really?” Annabelle couldn’t hide her joy. “That would be a dream, my Lord.”
“Then I will let you know when I have rearranged my collection.”
“May God bless you, my Lord.”
Charles waved Annabelle away. “Now, off with you… I’m sure you have other chores to do.”
~
The sun hadn’t yet risen as Charles heard footsteps out in corridor. He gently climbed from the bed as not to wake his wife. Quietly he tiptoed to the door then slowly opened it before stepping out into corridor. Benoit had been waiting with a sack which he promptly handed to Charles. “These are the clothes from my younger days.” He then asked while Charles began rooting through the clothes. “Can I ask one last time why you want them?”
“I am playing spy this morning.”
“On who?”
“The villagers. Can you get me there by dawn?”
Benoit felt confused. “Have they been poaching your deer again? I haven’t heard any such reports from the gamekeeper.”
“No. No they haven’t. I want to see what life is like for the common folk.”
“I would listen to your father’s advice and carry on leaving through the Southern gate… not doing so, may only rise tension.
Charles shrugged. “That’s why I’m wearing disguise and leaving early.”
“I think you’re taking a needless risk. Life is dull but they know better, my Lord. Stay here in your comfort.”
“How will their situation ever improve if people of means ignore them.”
Benoit warned his master. “Good intentions don’t produce the desired effect.”
“Well I want to see for myself.
~
Hidden by an autumnal mist, Benoit stopped his cart just before the road entered the village. Dressed as a drifter Charles left through the North gate and walked among the cedar trees towards the village. He shuffled with a haunch as he entered the narrow streets that were tightly packed with shambolic houses. But the further he walked the stronger the stench of the open sewer became. He felt overwhelmed and his stomach turned and flipped.
Glancing left to right he saw nothing but desperation and sadness. Half naked children played in the muck of the street while tramps fought dogs for the right to eat the half chewed corpse of a rat.
Charles’s heart sank, he had seen enough.
Feeling unable to carry on, Charles turned to walk back home but was met by a group of drunks. He avoided meeting their stares and attempted to walk pass. But a hand grabbed his shoulder and prevented him from walking away. Charles met the man’s eyes, and thought them dead. “What is it you want?”
“You are not a familiar face. What is your business?”
“I am but walking through.”
“What is your destination?”
Charles felt his heart racing. Despite the cold morning air, he felt his skin moisten with sweat. “London.”
“Then you must be a crank. You were heading North.”
“I was looking for an inn as my bones are tired and need rest.”
”You need to pay a tax to pass through these streets.”
Charles stepped back as he felt the tension rising. “I don’t wish to bother anyone.”
“We are bothered on a weekly basis by travelers like you. Robbing food, stealing belongings. You need to leave and never return.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do. But I have nothing to give you”
The thug grabbed hold of Charles’s by the collar of his overcoat. “Let’s see what secrets your pockets behold.”
“My pockets are but bottomless pits of emptiness.”
“We’ll be the judge of that.” The thug turned to face his gang. “Let’s frisk him boys.”
A female voice broke the stillness of the morning. “Arthur… let this man go. He is but a lonely traveler.”
“Pretty Annabelle. You have seen nothing here, but a pesky traveler causing us nuisance.”
“I see a gang of thugs fueled on ale abusing an innocent man. Now I suggest you go and tend the fields you are neglecting.”
The thug pushed Charles towards Annabelle, then fumed, “Annabelle. Why are you taking the side of this old fart?”
“Because I know what you are like. You might have a regal name, Arthur… but a name more fitting would be dung picker”
“Annabelle, a face like yours should not talk such nonsense.”
Wearing a frown, Annabelle barked, “I will ask the watchman to keep you in the stocks for good.”
Charles had not forgotten his hunch, and continued to play the part of lonesome traveler. He did his best to hide his dirt covered face with his thick woolen scarf. “I can’t thank you enough Madame, you are too kind and very courageous.”
“It angers me to see such injustice.”
“Me too. That’s why I know you have a good heart.”
”Do you have relatives here in Middlebrook?”
“I do not.”
Annabelle feeling curious took a fleeting glimpse of her strange companion. “You do look familiar and sound distinctive.”
“I do? You must be tired.”
“I’m fresh… I was just going to work… in fact it’s the way we are heading. Middlebrook Court.”
Charles glanced about as they had reached the outskirts of the village. Once he knew they were alone he untied his scarf. “I confess… the weary traveler drifts no more… as he is but me, Charles Farquhar.”
“My Lord… why did you risk getting hurt?”
“I came to see for myself where people such as yourself are raised. I must admit, I have never seen such squalor and suffering. Such baboonery too.”
Annabelle placed her hand on the back of her neck. “Squalor you may call it.” She shyly glanced at Charles. “But I don’t feel that I have suffered because of living here, for the most part, I have been happy.”
“But a pig is happy in mud.”
“My Lord, I may not have been born to such standards as you… but a pig?”
“I do not mean to call you fat and of low hygiene.” Charles turned to face an angered Annabelle. He smiled as he felt pleased that she possessed the spine to show her feeling. “I do not mean to call you fat and of low hygiene. “But one who knows not what he is missing, will not know what to look for.”
“We do have aspirations... some of us. But it’s more of a case of not possessing the means to achieve them.”
“Then I will take it upon myself to put in place improvements. I will make it my duty to see that the village has a school and a library.”
Annabelle let out a little screech, then covered her mouth with embracement. “That would be a great feat… and one which would surely make God smile on you.”
“I will then make sure that every man at least has a chance to find work within one of my collieries.”
“A job keeps an idle man from committing sin. Arthur is a case in point.”
Charles pulled at his collar. “A good example if ever there was one.”
~
The Duke and Duchess walked down the winding path which led from the mansion to southern gate of estate. The blue sky was free from clouds and the stands of trees were alive with birdsong. The chatter from the grounds men could be heard on the breeze while they busied themselves cleaning the lake. With his face lit by a cheeky smile, Charles placed a hand on Daniela’s shoulder. “I am walking with you, just like you wanted.”
“You are… it hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
“Well then, you will be glad to hear what I have to say next then.”
Daniela took Charles’s hand. “What is that?”
“I promise to do this every day that I’m home. It’s good for my health as well as our marriage.”
“Thank you Charles. Spending time with you… It puts me at ease”
Charles’s noticed that Daniela failed to smile. “But I feel there is something else that is on your mind. To me , your spirit is still subdued.”
“I’m OK, Charles. It’s just a little hot today. I should have taken up Benoit’s offer of a parasol.”
Charles nodded, then glanced towards the blue and empty sky. “Even though it may be early autumn, it is a little stuffy today.” He led them both to a part towards the shade of the orchard. “We are a complicated lot, aren’t we?”
“What do you mean?”
“Never happy with what we have. Always wanting more.”
“I don’t follow. But feel that I have done wrong.”
Charles smiled to himself. He squeezed Daniela’s gloved hand while he spoke. “We moan about the rain, while wishing for sun. Then when it summer, we wish for respite from the heat. We’re never satisfied.”
“Yes. Quite true.”
“So you’re not alone.” Charles picked up an apple from the ground. He buffed it on his sleeve before taking a bite. “Not alone at all. We’re noting but a load of miserable old buggers wanting more than what we already have.”
“I’m not miserable not really… I just want you to love me. Let me be the centre of your world… like you are mine.”
“But you are.”
“Make me feel that way, then.” Daniela felt herself choke on her sadness. “That why I want you to walk with me. So we can talk, ask each other questions. Show interest in each other’s lives.”
“OK.”
“I… fear admitting such things, because I know you work hard, and you think I a lazy lady of leisure”
“I do not.” Charles, wiped the back of his finger across Annabelle’s tear stained cheek. “What about your writing and illustrating?”
Daniela let out a sigh of frustration. “I need something to write about. But I’m lacking inspiration.”
“They always say that you should write about what you know?”
“That’s my problem. Other than being sad and lonely, what is there to write about?”
“About…”
Daniela stopped them walking so she could stare at Charles through her desperate eyes. “I want to be successful like you. I want to have something to talk about other than… well how miserable my existence is.”