Page 22 of ?n Arranged Betrothal with a Blind Duke
Penelope smiled brightly, linking her arm through Annabelle’s.
“Well, let’s see if I can help keep your mind off that,” she said.
Annabelle smiled gratefully at her friend.
“That sounds perfect,” she said.
As they meandered along the cobblestone path, their conversation flowed effortlessly, like a babbling brook cascading over smooth stones. Penelope's effervescent personality and quick wit always brought a lightness to Annabelle's heart, and today was no exception. They spoke of trivial matters, shared laughter, and reveled in the simple joy of each other's company.
Then, as if a spark had ignited within her, Penelope's voice grew animated. She spoke of the upcoming village summer fair, her eyes alight with excitement and her gestures illustrating her enthusiasm. Annabelle couldn't help but be drawn into Penelope's infectious energy.
“Oh, Annabelle, you simply must come to the fair!” Penelope exclaimed, her voice brimming with anticipation. “There will be colourful stalls filled with delectable treats, lively music floating through the air, and games that promise endless delight. It's the highlight of the summer, a chance for merriment and laughter!”
Annabelle's worries momentarily took a backseat as she listened to Penelope's vivid descriptions. The mere thought of such festivities ignited a spark of joy within her. The oppressive weight that had settled upon her heart seemed to lighten, replaced by a glimmer of excitement and the promise of a much-needed diversion.
“That sounds lovely,” she said. “Oh, I wonder if Oswald would notice if I was gone long enough to attend with you.”
Penelope gave Annabelle an impish grin.
“I will just come calling for you,” she asked, winking. You can slip out the servant’s entrance while I have him distracted. Then, meet me in the meadow, and we will go from there.”
Annabelle laughed.
“Perfect,” she said.
As they continued their leisurely walk, Annabelle found herself swept up in Penelope's contagious enthusiasm. They discussed the fair in great detail, imagining the various attractions and envisioning the laughter that would fill the air. It was a welcome respite from the mounting concerns that had plagued her thoughts.
In that moment, Annabelle realized the importance of such simple pleasures in life. Amidst the grandeur and complexities of their world, it was the shared moments of joy, the carefree laughter, that truly mattered. The fair became a symbol of hope, a beacon of light cutting through the shadows that threatened to engulf her.
The sun-drenched countryside gradually transformed into the quaint village, with its cobbled streets and charming cottages. Annabelle and Penelope strolled through the heart of the bustling town, taking in the sights and sounds that surrounded them. The buildings, adorned with colorful flower boxes, exuded a rustic charm that evoked a sense of warmth and simplicity.
As they walked, their conversation carried them forward, their voices floating amidst the hum of activity. But their cheerful mood was interrupted when Annabelle's gaze fell upon a familiar face—Cynthia, the viscount's wife, accompanied by her daughter Sophia. Both ladies exuded an air of superiority that instantly irked Annabelle, casting a shadow over her previous joy.
Cynthia and Sophia exchanged haughty glances, their disdainful expressions and deliberate snubs leaving a bitter taste in Annabelle's mouth. It was as if they believed themselves to be the epitome of social standing, entitled to look down upon those they deemed beneath them. The weight of their judgment settled upon Annabelle's shoulders, tainting the otherwise idyllic day.
“I see you are without escorts, girls,” the viscountess said, a poisoned threat lacing the dripping honey in her voice. “Sophia and I, of course, know that you are upstanding young ladies. But others in the village might not be so… astute.”
Sophia gave the two women a snide smile.
“Does your uncle know that you have left your quarters unattended?” she asked.
Annabelle stuck up her chin, determined not to let her fear show.
“Penelope and I serve as chaperone for one another,” she said, thankful that she sounded surer than she felt. “Everyone knows that two ladies together, such as a mother and daughter, is perfectly acceptable.”
At this, Cynthia blanched, clearly catching onto the implications. She realized too late that she couldn’t threaten or frighten Annabelle and Penelope, when she and her daughter were unescorted, as well.
Sophia, however, was undeterred. She stepped closer, tilting her head upward.
“Did you say that your uncle knows you are about?” she asked again, raising her voice. “I do believe that he is very strict with you, as any caring guardian would of his charge.”
People were starting to look their way, and Annabelle’s cheeks flushed.
Penelope, however, was cool and unflustered by the women. She pulled Annabelle close, looking at her and completely ignoring the two horrible women in front of them.
“Come, darling,” she said, raising her own voice as she tugged Annabelle away from the viscountess and her snobby daughter. “The cufflinks Oswald requested are sure to be this way. Let us leave these two ladies alone, as they were when they approached us.”
Cynthia and her daughter gasped as Penelope led Annabelle away from them. Seeking solace from the gossiping whispers that seemed to follow them like a cloud, Annabelle and Penelope quickened their pace, their footsteps leading them towards the welcoming haven of the haberdashery. The tiny shop beckoned with its colorful displays of ribbons, lace, and delicate accessories, providing a refuge from the judgmental gazes and whispered conversations that followed their encounter with the viscountess and her spoiled, big-mouthed daughter.
