Chapter Three (Anna Willowford)

heads up for any of y’all that read “The Story of Anna Willowford” back when i was posting it more – this needs SOME work . . . but i just wanted to post it coz i haven’t posted any  in years. so here you go. enjoy! -Myth

Delmont climbed out of the carriage and went to the door of Ralph’s house, his knock being quickly answered by a young man with flaming red hair. “Delmont!” I heard the young man exclaim happily.
Delmont said something then, something I couldn’t catch, and Ralph looked toward the carriage, a certain look of interest on his face.
I didn’t have much time to ponder it, however, because a young woman with long, curly black hair came out of the house then, fluttering her dark, thick eyelashes at Delmont as she did so.
Trying not to be sick, I looked away then, wishing for the millionth time that I could simply turn invisible.
Before I knew it, though, Delmont and his two friends had come to the carriage. Delmont, ever the “gentleman”, held the door open for the girl (that must be Edith) as she climbed in. “Do sit next to Anna,” he said, giving me a little smile.
She did so, her disappointment clear on her face. Obviously she wanted to be as close to Delmont as possible.
Ralph and Delmont climbed in then, closing the door behind themselves. Once James and Catherine arrived this was going to be a completely full carriage (there was space for exactly six people inside). I sighed inwardly at the thought.
“Edith, meet Anna Willowford, the woman I am courting. Anna, meet Edith Foster,” Delmont said as soon as the carriage was in motion.
Edith looked at me with spiteful dark eyes. If one could shoot flames of rage from their eyes, I would be quite roasted by now.
“Nice to meet you,” she said in the most plastic voice I’d ever heard in my life.
“Likewise,” I said, with just as much listlessness in my voice as she’d had in hers.
Delmont smiled, as if glad to see we were “getting along” – but that was just it. We clearly both hated each other, and any normal, un-twitterpated person would be able to see that!
“Oh, and Anna, meet Ralph Foster, Edith’s older brother,” Delmont said then.
They have the same last name? Extraordinary! And I completely forgot he was the elder sibling – you only told me about twenty minutes ago! I thought sarcastically. “Pleasure to meet you,” I said, giving a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
“Pleasure,” he said, pausing as he stared at me, “to meet you as well. I know we’re going to have a wonderful time today.” He smiled secretively.
I squirmed inwardly under his gaze (and because of his sappy speech) and felt sick again, seriously considering jumping out of the carriage even though it was moving.
At last we came to James’ house. Once more Delmont got out and went to the door, returning to the carriage with two more passengers.
Edith looked at me. “Scoot down, Anna – I want Catherine by me,” she said in an annoyed tone, like I was a child, or a dog.
“Gladly,” I muttered, moving down to the seat by the window and wondering why I hadn’t sat there before.
Catherine and James got in, and more introductions were made. Thankfully James didn’t stare at me as Ralph had – he obviously had eyes only for his wife-to-be, a rather promising quality.
“So, Anna, do tell us what your hobbies are,” Edith purred. She must know I was going to say something that would be considered apalling.
“Well, I love to be outdoors exploring things, getting my hands dirty – the outdoors are truly beautiful, and it’s hard for me to understand why everyone insists on staying inside so much,” I said. Indeed, compared to Edith’s and Catherine’s milky skin, mine was quite golden. “I also love music and art.”
“Not a total failure,” Edith whispered to Catherine, though I knew she wanted me to hear it. Catherine laughed with a high, tinkly laugh.
Still, I almost relished the shocked looks on the party’s faces. Let them loathe me. Let them think me different. I really did not care. In fact, it made me glad to think I was different; to think I actually used my brain.
The others continued to talk as the carriage went along, but I let myself drift away on my thoughts as I stared out the window. Would this day ever be over? It certainly didn’t feel like it . . .
All too soon the carriage was stopping at the park and we were getting out. Everyone climbed out before me, and while Edith and Catherine were helped down from the carriage I expected to be forgotten.
I wasn’t, I soon found, as I came to the door of the carriage to find Delmont waiting to help me down, his face pleasant.
Just leave me be! I thought. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen.
And yet it was almost . . . touching . . . to know I hadn’t been entirely forgotten.
We all went into the art gallery hall then (oooor did they have museums . . . uuuuuuh . . . someone wanna help this idiot out . . . ), quickly breaking off into groups.
Unfortunately for me, one of the two groups was composed only of Ralph and I.
We stopped for a moment to admire one of the paintings. It was a simple yet beautiful picture of a wooden bridge that went over a sparkling creek, on the bank of which grew beautiful wild flowers. It was a peaceful picture, and I wished I could jump in and sit on that bank, warmed by the sun . . .
But I was sharply brought back to reality by Ralph making a sound of disgust. “That’s a terrible painting,” he said. “Done by an amateur, quite clearly.”
“What’s so terrible about it?” I said, annoyed.
“Well, for one thing, it was clearly an amateur that painted it,” he said haughtily. “Look at the way these flowers are all but smudges. Not enough detail at all.”
“Not all paintings need to have so much detail,” I said. I can’t believe I’m getting this annoyed over a painting, I thought. It must just be because I’m discussing the painting with an empty-headed moron.
“Still,” he said.
I’d like to see you paint better! I thought angrily. “Well, I like it,” I said, before spinning on my heel and walking away, wanting to wring someone’s neck. I couldn’t believe my day had so quickly gone from bad to terrible – and the irony of it was that, to anyone else, my day would appear perfectly fine with possibly a few minor annoyances. But they were much more than that.
I thought again of how I actually had to court Delmont and probably one day marry him. The reality of it still hadn’t sunken in. I just couldn’t grasp the fact that I would eventually be married to him. The thought of it disgusted me.
I would forever be Delmont’s prize” that he showed off to everyone. I would never be allowed to speak my mind or live my own life. I’d have to be a subdued, sweet little housewife and live for going to balls and parties.
“Anna?”
As if summoned by my thoughts, I looked up to see Delmont staring down at me. Inwardly sighing, I replied, “Yes?”
“Are you all right? You were staring at this painting and not moving – it was like you’d transformed into a statue like the ones around us,” he said, gesturing to some nearby statues of marble.
Goodness, but for such a self-centered man that was very observant of him, I thought, surprised. “Yes . . . I’m fine,” I said at last. “Just tired. We were up late because of the ball, of course.”
“Of course,” Delmont said. But I could tell he didn’t quite believe me. Still, he offered his arm (and I forced myself to take it) and led me to look at another painting he told me he absolutely loved.
And that was how the rest of the afternoon passed. Everyone oohed and aahed over paintings that were, in my opinion, for the most part quite ugly. Then Edith suggested we all go for a walk in the park. I joyfully agreed, and we all went and had a lovely time.
At least, that’s how it appeared to Delmont. That I was having a wonderful time.
But in truth I only barely kept from shouting, “No! I don’t want to stroll anywhere with any of you!” and then turning and running out to the carriage and demanding I be taken home.
Of course, though, I couldn’t do that, so I found myself shortly after in a park that had too many people in it for my taste, walking with people that weren’t to my taste.
Edith stayed as close to Delmont as she could, chattering on and on about things that didn’t matter. James and Catherine kept to themselves, discussing wedding plans, and that left me with Ralph.
Ralph, who was perhaps about ten times more empty-headed than even Delmont.
Ralph, who was so stuck on himself that he thought a good conversation was when he, so important, did all the talking. About himself.
And the awful thing was that almost everyone in Delmont’s, Ralph’s, Edith’s, James’, and Catherine’s circles was like this.
So really I was getting a taste of what the rest of my life would be like.
I didn’t think I’d be able to survive.