Annabella was content with the finished product that Mrs. Crabtree had so painstakingly constructed. It was time to present Annabella Olivia Devereaux to the baron. Under other circumstances, Annabella would have been terribly nervous, but in the last hour she had resolved that she did not care what happens. She did not have to be the end all, be all, for some stuffed ascot to fall in love with her. It was just as well if he didn’t. That just meant she could continue to go out and socialize. She was becoming increasingly confident in herself and she was not about to let any self-doubt enter the picture. Annabella was finally free of all the negative comments Warren had made over the years. She was finally out of Caroline’s sexy, rebellious shadow. She was now out of Hattie’s protective, yet overbearing grasp. For the first time in her life, she was her own women. She was free to do just what she wanted to do without hearing those disapproving voices in her ear. As she glided seamlessly to the awaiting car, she looked up at the cerulean sky. She saw a single, shiny star. That star represented her, she thought. She was intent on being the star of her own one-woman production. Tonight was not about convention or trying to impress anyone. Annabella had it all and there was no reason she could not enjoy it.
“So what exactly passes for a Baron these days,” Annabella casually joked.
Normally, she would not dare be so informal with near-royalty, but the wine made her just that much more fun-loving.
“If you are asking under what conditions was my title bestowed, I can assure you, madam, that it was under the most stringent of circumstances. My family served the royal family in the highest and most noble capacity. My great-grandfather was an officer in the Royal Navy and served side by side with members of the royal family. We are of exceptional stock, indeed.”
“Oh, my word,” Annabella gasped. “I did not mean to imply that you were anything less. You will forgive me, but I am not exactly up on my British history. I have always had an unhealthy love for the mother country, but I’m afraid I attended formal schooling in Switzerland.”
“No worries, Ms. Devereaux, I did not take offense to your inquiry. It is a common question. Now, if you will forgive me in advance for asking a rather personal question, why are you so frightfully thin?”
Annabella turned pink. “I did not realize I was so thin.”
“Perhaps for an American, but here you would surely be tube-fed until you reached a weight of at least five-stone,” he informed her.
“Well, I shall be grateful to be American in that case. If I were five-stone in my town, I would be sent away to fat camp.”
“I find American obsession with weight positively baffling. I cannot imagine obsessing over something that can so easily be controlled with a balanced lifestyle. I think the problem with weight control is just scratching the surface of a much deeper societal issue. A people who have so little control over what goes into them surely cannot control what comes out.”
Annabella found the young man’s statement inherently flawed and judgmental. Although she did not personally internalize his statements, she was offended on behalf of her nation.
“That’s a rather broad assessment from someone who has never set foot in the country, don’t you think?”
“Listen to us, Annabella. This liquid courage we are consuming has us at odds with one another and we haven’t even taken the time to say the things that we like about one another. For example, I adore your flawless, porcelain skin.”
Annabella blushed. She rarely received complements for being so white.
“Thank you. And I adore your accent and your deep voice.”
Annabella and her baron danced cheek to cheek for what seemed like hours. Ever so often, she reflected on the night she danced with Warrenton. Although spectacular, it was nothing like what she was experiencing with the young, worldly man.
Soon, the two were gazing deeply into each other’s eyes as they waltzed across the floor to the classical music playing on the perfectly waxed floor. His eyes were like beautifully-cut diamonds, so iridescent that it was impossible to determine the color of them. Though mesmerized, Annabella did not a miss beat keeping up with the well-groomed gentleman. He was the high-energy sort and she fell in love with his rhythmic movements on the dance floor. He seemed entranced by the music and she wondered if he was formally-trained. She was no slouch on the floor either, but most of what she learned was at cotillions and the sort. Her biggest worry back home would have been if she popped the seam on her dress. The young baron appeared to be competitive, to say the least, and he danced as if his life depended on whether or not he was the absolute best.
Chapter Eighteen
“To hell with you all!”
Marigold slammed down the receiver. She had been staying with Warrenton in the guest house on his property after his family's house was burned to the ground by that awful Vidalia. To make matters worse, she was not at all happy with the way her wedding plans were shaping up. She was convinced that there were forces working against her and she did not know how she was going to get a wedding planned in this God-forsaken town.
“No one will do anything for me,” she complained to Warrenton. “They all hate me!”
“Don’t worry, Marigold. We will just go somewhere else and get married,” he comforted her.
“I want to get married right here. My friends and all of my family are right here.”
“Then why don’t you get them to help with the wedding?”
“Unless you want kegs and skeet-shooting at your nuptials, I think it is best left to the professionals.”
Warrenton looked confused.
“I thought your family was from California.”
“No, I lived in California when I was pursuing an acting career. But, I was born right here.”
“I see,” he said disappointedly.
Warrenton was starting to realize that he wasn’t getting quite what he thought. Marigold looked the part, but deep down, she was an inbred redneck with the morals of a door. He knew Marigold was not the one for him, but somehow he thought he could make it work for the sake of keeping his father’s fortune. Still, if left anywhere near his father’s funds, married or not, Marigold would blow through in months what it took his father decades to accumulate. Warren was unwilling to watch his father’s fortune be consumed by some gold-digging hussy. Still, he was sure he had some kind of feelings for her. He just wasn’t sure what those feelings were. After all, he was quite certain that he was not over Annabella. He just didn’t know what to do. Annabella was gone off to live her dream. Surely she was having the time of her life in London and was thinking very little, if at all, about Warren. The fact that the locals were unwilling to assist Marigold with her wedding was a testament to the fact that they should not be getting married in the first place. Warren was tired of thinking about the whole thing. He just wanted it to be over. He realized now that he would probably be happy with no one. Maybe Warren was meant to be a bachelor for the rest of his life. Still, he did not know how he was going to get rid of Marigold without parting with his daddy’s fortune. She was not going to go away. Warren was beating himself up, wondering where he had gone wrong. Now he was stuck trying to plan a wedding with a hillbilly that nobody wanted to assist. There was not enough money in his accounts to make them change their minds about Marigold. She may as well have been Julia Roberts’ character in Pretty Woman because it did not matter how much money her man had, she was not going to be allowed to shop in their town. And she was well aware that the town was run by the old-money locals. If she wanted anything, she was going to have to go through them. Warren was surprised that they even allowed her to stay there. He remembered the old days when she would have awakened to a burning cross on her lawn – or worse. That kind of treatment was not reserved for any particular race of people, it was just a signal that the recipient was unwelcomed. And Marigold, with all of her statuesque beauty, was not welcomed there.
Warren began to think about all the evidence Hattie had so carefully collected
and spent her own hard-earned money obtaining. He was quite the ingrate for brushing her off the way he did. He had few friends, few people who genuinely cared about him and his family and Hattie was one of them. He was kicking himself for listening to his attorney and agreeing to marry that woman. Warren was not doing okay and he prayed that someone or something would save him. He collapsed on the couch and interlocked his fingers over his eyes. It was like he was waiting for divine intervention. Soon, he would receive the intervention he had been seeking.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Marigold screamed as she rushed down the steps. Someone was banging on the front door and pressing the doorbell simultaneously. She finally opened the door to someone who looked like a medical professional. She was uncertain what was happening.
“Ma’am, we are here to collect Mr. Warrenton Boatwright.”
“Collect him?”
“Yes ma’am. We have received credible information that Mr. Boatwright does not have all of his faculties and may be a detriment to himself and others. We have come to collect him for observation and possibly retention. Are you the wife?”
“I am the soon-to-be wife. And just where are you taking him?”
“We are taking him to the mental facility in town.”
“The nut house?”
“The mental facility,” he corrected her.
Marigold began to scream and cry. She could not comprehend what was happening and Warrenton was little help. When he finally realized what was happening, he appeared relieved. He had hoped someone or something would come to save him. Although this is not quite what he had in mind, it was close enough. He spent only a few seconds wondering who would have done such a thing as to call the authorities and tell them that he was out of his mind. But, it was of no concern to him. It appeared that his wedding to Marigold was at a stalemate anyway. Without Annabella there to give him a kick in the pants, he was basically useless. He willingly went with the personnel who came to collect him and he bid Marigold goodbye. She was still hysterical as they loaded him in the vehicle.
“I’ll get you out of there, Warrenton. I swear. As God is my witness. If it is the last thing I do, I will get you out of there!”
Warrenton smiled as they drove him from his home. He was finally getting some peace.
It did not take long for the gossip mill to start turning out the juicy bits. Hattie clicked over to answer the beep on her other line. It was one of the neighbors. She began to tell Hattie the events that occurred earlier in the day. Hattie had been out purchasing items for her trip to London. She and Caroline had to get a move on if they were to arrive in London in time enough to convince Annabella to drop everything and come back home. Hattie smiled a little as the news came across the line, but she pretended to be surprised as anyone else. Hattie knew who was the culprit that had Warrenton picked up. She was also as convinced as anyone else that he was not in his right mind. It was not unusual for a man to suffer a mental and emotional breakdown when his father dies. For all intents and purposes, Warrenton’s father was the closest person to him and the person on whom he most depended. But, it was unusual for a man to alienate his oldest and dearest friend to marry a known opportunist. Hattie was not in the business of destroying impending marriages and lives, but she was most certainly in the business of looking out for long-time friends and she considered Warrenton’s parents long-time friends. The fact that Warrenton’s mother was a known mental case would not help in defense of his sanity. But, it seemed Marigold was the only one who protested to Warrenton being taken in for observation. After all, she stood to lose the most if he was committed.
Hattie finished up the phone call and gave a sigh of relief. Caroline had no knowledge of the day’s events and Hattie was intent on keeping it that way.
“What are you up to, Hattie?”
“It is of no matter, Ms. Caroline. You and I have work to do. We shall be off to London in short order.”
“Something tells me you have something cooking behind my back,” Caroline insisted.
“Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies,” Hattie assured her.
Caroline left the matter alone and sat patiently at the counter on the barstool until the driver arrived. She was ready to get to London. She was not necessarily ready to bring Annabella back, for she thought it was a huge mistake, but she was ready to live up to her end of the deal. She knew Hattie was a fixer and she knew that Hattie would keep her word to make it possible for Caroline and Chadsworth to be together.
“Ms. Caroline, I know you don’t agree with everything that’s going on, but I can assure you it is for the best. You have to trust me. I am an old woman who has seen a lot. I know everyone and everything around here. There isn’t too much that goes on that Ol’ Hattie don’t know about. I know you want Annabella to be happy. That’s what I want to. Rest assured that if everything works out as planned, she will be happy. No one knows that girl like I do. I know what makes her tick. I know what makes her smile and what makes her cry. You read her letters and she seems happy, but I know differently. She cannot possibly be happy so far away from home. She needs her friends and her family. She needs us, Ms. Caroline. She needs some closure with respect to Warrenton. One way or another, she needs to settle that matter for once and for all. The way she left in the middle of all the confusion is no way to leave a relationship. He is just as confused as she is. Warrenton would give up everything to remain rich and Annabella would give up everything to be happy. Only they know what they are willing to give up to be together. It is our job to bring those two stubborn mules together to hammer this out for once and for all. If, at the end of the day, they decide that they are better off without each other, we will be at peace knowing that we did everything we could to make sure they had every opportunity. Leave nothing unsaid and leave no stone unturned.”
“Hattie, you are way too dramatic. But, I do get it. Just make sure that when this is all over, Chad and I have that same opportunity to be together.”
“A promise is a promise, Ms. Caroline.”
Chapter Nineteen
Annabella twirled around the room as though she was still dancing with the baron. She had not sat down since returning to her apartment. The evening was everything she dreamed it would be and she felt like a real-life fairytale princess. The baron was not strikingly handsome, but he was as kind as anyone she had ever met. What’s more, he was amazingly humble and complimentary. Annabella felt that he was sincere in his compliments to her. He was not too forward and he seemed to know quite a bit about American customs. She was sure he would be a snobbish braggart who dominated the conversation and thought only of himself. But, she was wrong. He was patient and sincere. She wondered if he had always lived a charmed life or if he had spent time among ordinary people. In any event, she wanted to see him again. But, she was not sure of the protocol. It wasn’t like she could just dial him up on the phone and ask him out. She wouldn’t dare do that with an American man – let alone royalty. She wouldn’t have to wait long to find out what he thought about her, though, for Mrs. Crabtree was working overtime to get the couple together. Annabella wondered if the woman was working on commission.
“The baron was quite smitten with you, Ms. Annabella.”
“How can you tell?”
“He has requested your presence at a royal function this weekend.”
“What function?” Annabella wanted to know.
“He would like you to be his guest at the royal wedding.”
“The royal wedding? The one that will be televised for all the world to see? I must be dreaming! This cannot be real.”
“It’s real, Dear. Your dreams are finally coming true.”
Mrs. Crabtree left the room and Annabella plopped backwards onto the bed. Mrs. Crabtree was right. Her dreams were finally coming true. Annabella smiled and continued to reflect on the evening. Soon, Mrs. Crabtree returned.
“You have a visitor, Dear.”
“Is it him?” Annabella wanted to know.<
br />
“No, Dear.”
Annabella straightened herself up and started down the stairs. She stopped about halfway when she heard an unmistakable southern accent. She was horrified. There was no way Caroline was there. Annabella would surely die if Caroline had come all this way to ruin her life and destroy her dreams. She stood frozen on the steps and listened to make sure she was not hallucinating. Caroline was impatient and began up the steps to find out what was keeping Annabella. When she turned the corner, she saw the disappointment in her friend’s eyes.
“This is the welcome I get for coming halfway around the world to rescue you?”
“Yes, because I don’t need rescuing!” Annabella screamed at her friend.
“Well, Hattie and I will just be leaving then,” she warned Annabella.
“Hattie? Hattie’s here? Are the two of you stark, raving mad?”
Annabella continued down the steps and came face to face with her longtime caretaker.
“Et tu, Brute`?” She asked Hattie, in Caesar’s famous last words.
“‘Fraid so, Kiddo, ” Hattie replied.
“Why?” Annabella wanted to know.
“Anna, you have unfinished business at home and I need you to come back and finish your business.”
An Old Fashioned Southern Romance Novel Page 10
