Author’s note: As always, this needs work, y’all! Feel free to critique away! =) And below are the links to my previous chapters!

http://theworstending.com/blog/2011/03/05/chapter-five-2/

http://theworstending.com/blog/2010/09/29/chapter-four/

http://theworstending.com/blog/2010/07/06/chapter-three-anna-willowford/

http://theworstending.com/blog/2010/01/14/chapter-two-2/

http://theworstending.com/blog/2010/01/12/chapter-one-aw-the-life-of-one-anna-willowford-myth/

http://theworstending.com/blog/2010/01/12/prologue-and-chapter-one-of-the-life-of-one-anna-willowford-myth/

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I was awakened by the sound of knocking. Groaning, I slowly sat up in bed, squinting at the window. It was hardly dawn yet.

The knocking persisted. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” I croaked, hurriedly getting to my feet and going to the door. Pulling it open I found Bea standing there, dressed and looking just as awake as ever. How did she get up this early every morning?!

“Good mornin’, Miss Anna!” she said cheerily. “Did you rest well?”

“Morning? It’s hardly morning yet,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

She didn’t bat an eye at my grumpiness. “We thought we should get an early start, mum. Your aunt and uncle will be expecting you.”

I sighed. “All right, I’ll go get dressed.”

Bea gave a little curtsy again before hurrying off. Already the smells of breakfast drifted up to me; the cook must’ve gotten up hours ago to start it. I shuddered at the thought of getting up hours before now.

I quickly got dressed and packed my things back into the little bag I’d brought in with me. I banged my shin twice because of how tired I still was, and I knew that a lovely purple bruise would be forming there in no time.

Knock, knock, I heard at the door ago. Wanting to scream, “Will the world just leave me be?!” I whirled around to get it and banged my shin yet again. I gave a shout and reached down to rub it, muttering about faulty placing of furniture. I was still muttering when I opened the door.

Delmont stood there looking just as awake as Bea had. “Good morning, Anna!” he said cheerfully. Had I not been in so much pain I would have seriously considered slapping that ridiculous smile off his face.

I muttered a response and pushed past him to go downstairs. He still stood at the doorway of my room has if he expected me to come back and have a conversation with him. When I was nearly at the bottom of the stairs he seemed to wake up and realize I wasn’t about to turn around just to talk to him, and he hurried after me.

He stepped past me to pull out a chair at a vacant table. Not seeing why we should sit somewhere different than Bea and our coach driver, I went toward their table. Clearly confused, Delmont hurried after me and once more pulled out a chair, this time at their table. Sighing inwardly, I sat down in it, mumbling a thank you.

He gave one of his “charming” smiles. “You’re very welcome,” he said, sitting down beside me. I resisted the urge to scoot my chair away.

“Feelin’ a bit more alive, miss?” Bea said, smiling.

“No,” I said, rubbing my face with one hand. The coach driver quickly signaled to the innkeeper’s wife and she brought Delmont and I our food.

Praying a silent prayer I began eating, hoping I looked absorbed enough in my food that Delmont would leave me alone.

I hoped wrong.

“Did you sleep well?” Delmont asked cordially as he began to stately cut his eggs.

“Yes,” I replied, chewing the too-salty bacon. I went to take a sip of coffee and found it so strong my eyes nearly watered. I saw Bea smile to herself as she pushed a little cup of sugar over to me. I smiled gratefully before asking Delmont, figuring I might as well try to be polite, “Did you?”

“Not very well, no,” he said. “The mattress was lumpy, the pillows flat, and the windows drafty. It’s rather sad that they called those the best rooms here. I’d be afraid to see their worst rooms.”

I glanced at our coach driver, who’d spent the night in the stables because there had been no more room in the inn. He looked down at his food and raised his eyebrows, clearly not having an easy time of not retorting something.

I opened my mouth to say something about where he’d had to sleep, but Bea put a gentle hand on my arm beneath the table. She nonchalantly shook her head, telling me not to get into one of my fiery lectures now.

Too tired to fight her, I began to eat again and simply said nothing.

~

Not long after we were in the carriage, and we traveled for about another four hours before, at last, we came to Delmont’s stop.

We pulled down a long, winding drive to see a beautiful white mansion. Tall and stately, it was surrounded by trees and a stunning fountain in the front. Far to the left there were stables; far to the right there was a pond for fishing. It looked enchanting.

The carriage pulled up near the front of the mansion, and the coach driver quickly jumped down, opened the carriage door for Delmont, and then got his bags for him, carrying them to the door and ringing the little bell.

Delmont tore his eyes away from the mansion for a moment (even he hadn’t seemed prepared for such grandeur as this) to say to me, “Good day, Miss Willowford. It was most pleasurable traveling with you.” Before I could stop him he took my hand and kissed it. Trying not to scream, with all my might I forced a small smile to my face before looking away.

As he got out of the carriage, he said over his shoulder, “I shall visit you at your aunt and uncle’s at your convenience. Good day!” He gave a little bow and then disappeared into the mansion.

I could hardly wait until our carriage pulled away. As when Delmont had kissed my hand before, I wanted to scrub the skin on the back of it off. Bea must have seen my look of disgust because she sighed and shook her head. I ignored her, staring intently out the window and pretending to be interested in the scenery.

Soon, though, I really was interested in it. Summer had recently begun, and there were stunning shades of green everywhere I looked, not to mention all the wildflowers that seemed to glow with color in the sunlight. Rolling hills stretched off into the distance, covered with fields of corn and wheat. Tall trees offered glorious shade, and everything looked simply perfect.

Simply perfect, that was, until, after a very lengthy drive, the carriage turned down a long dirt drive, at the end of which sat a simple red-brick house. The property was fairly large, and there were trees everywhere, but the shed and stables clearly hadn’t seen new paint in decades. The house, too, was becoming decrepit, and I was certain the roof must leak when it rained.

Bea didn’t seem phased at all. I, on the other hand, gaped. Literally.

As the carriage neared the house I saw two little girls run out, giggling as they chased each other. My aunt and uncle soon followed, looking just the same as they had two years ago, the last time I’d seen them. Though smiling at their daughters’ antics, they quickly calmed them down so that all of four of them stood together outside the house, waiting to greet me.

The carriage reached the house all too soon, and our coach driver hopped down and opened the door for me. I couldn’t move, feeling dazed. This couldn’t be right. My aunt and uncle were playing a cruel joke on me. They really had a huge, beautiful house closer to town, and -

“Anna!” my aunt exclaimed. The coach driver helped me out of the carriage, and I was soon followed by Bea. Still in a daze, I walked forward to receive warm greetings and hugs from my aunt, uncle, and cousins.

“You have a lovely house, mum!” Bea said, curtsying to my aunt. She and the coach driver were burdened with her bags and mine, and my uncle quickly directed them into the house.

Aunt Sarah smiled again and squeezed my hand. “We are so glad you are here, Anna!” she said. Her smile faded a bit. “How were your dear parents when you left them?”

“They were worried, but well,” I managed to get out, having a hard time not continuing to gape at my surroundings. It’s real, I thought. They really live here, and I must live here too.

My aunt sighed. “Well, our prayers are certainly with them! But forgive me, please come inside! You must be so weary from your journey; I know the stretch from town to here is quite large!” She took my little traveling bag from me and led the way, her girls still running and giggling around us. “Lily, Lea! It’s time to go inside,” she called over her shoulder. The girls obeyed instantly, though they chased each other into the house.

I followed slowly, wanting to pinch myself just to make absolute sure this was not a dream. How had this happened? How had my ridiculous older sister and Delmont of all people, gotten to go and stay with well-to-do relatives? Why was I being subjected to such humiliation? Here I was in . . . in what? Nothing better than an old farmhouse! I’d never been much for society and its ranks and gatherings and foolery, but even I could not believe I would be forced to live here! I wondered if there was anything modern in their house at all, and if they even knew the latest goings on of the court, and Queen Victoria. I felt like we were in the middle of nowhere. I wanted to sit down and cry. I never should have left home, never.

I was almost afraid to see the inside of the house, but once I’d entered I was surprised to find it very well taken care of. I was almost afraid to see the inside of the house, but once I’d entered I was surprised to find it very well taken care of. The medium-sized hallway leading from the front door had a doorway on the left to the parlor, which was, though not large, a well enough size. It had a large fireplace in it, and some worn sofas and chairs. I knew if my mother ever saw such furniture in her house she wouldn’t hesitate in getting it disposed of. The mahogany wood floors which would have been so beautiful if not for the gouges and scratches in them, no doubt due to children being careless and furniture being dragged around. A doorway further ahead to the right of the hallway opened onto a small library, which my uncle clearly also used as an office. I shuddered at the thought of trying to work in here if people were talking in the parlor, which was so close by.

We continued down the hallway and to the left was a huge staircase leading upstairs. The railing looked like it had been polished for hours; clearly my aunt and uncle must have very good servants. Ahead of us, my aunt told me, were doors to the kitchen and dining room, and two other small rooms, one of which her daughters used as a playroom.

We went upstairs then, and I soon found that the upstairs, like the downstairs, consisted of few rooms, four to be exact. To the left there were doors to my aunt and uncle’s room and my cousins’ room, and on the right there were doors to a small water closet and to a staircase that led to the attic. I noted she hadn’t pointed out a guest bedroom yet, but I supposed she must be getting to it.

“This is it?” The words were out before I could stop myself.

My aunt chuckled as she opened the door to my cousins’ room. “I’m afraid so. It’s small but snug; we like it this way. You’ll be staying in here with Lily and Lea.” Their room was tiny with only one window that overlooked their dilapidated stables. There was one queen-sized bed. Only one bed must mean . . . “The girls have been so excited about you coming! They keep saying, ‘Cousin Anna’s going to sleep in our room, Mama!’” Aunt Sarah laughed. “So you’ll be sharing the bed with one of the girls each night. There’s a trundle bed in here too, and the girls will take turns sleeping on it. I’m sorry; we had planned to build a guest room onto the house, but we kept needing the money for something else.”

My jaw all but dropped. My aunt, seeming to be slightly embarrassed (and rightly, I thought to myself) at my having to share a room with her children, set my bag down on the bed. When she looked up at me her embarrassment was replaced with her former level of cheerfulness. “Well, why don’t we go downstairs and see about some luncheon?”

As we reached the bottom of the stairs Bea exited the kitchen. Looking slightly confused, she asked my aunt, “Excuse me, mum, but where are your servants’ quarters?”

My aunt chuckled again. “Oh, we don’t have servants’ quarters!” she said merrily. “The only person who actually works for us is our cook, Hannah, and her husband, Ivan, and they have a little house just a few minutes’ walk from here. There’s a little room just off the kitchen,” she said, leading her through the kitchen and to the room. Inside was a little bed, and that was it. “It’s always very cool in here during the summer, so I hope you’ll be comfortable,” Aunt Sarah said.

Bea smiled gratefully. “Of course, mum! Thank you!” She wearily piled her bags on the bed.

As we went back into the kitchen I noticed an older woman at the stove. I hadn’t seen her before; I was still in such a daze.

She was an older woman, her dark brown hair streaked with gray. Her face was red and sweaty from standing by the oven so long, and her hair, face, and clothes had flour on them. Still, she smiled warmly at Bea and I. “Welcome!” she said, wiping her hand on her dress and reaching it out to shake ours. I nearly gaped again; I couldn’t believe she hadn’t curtsied to me. “We’ve been praying for all of you.”

“That’s so kind, thank you,” Bea said, quickly realizing I was of no capability to do much talking right now. Aunt Sarah led us from the kitchen then, saying she would get Lily and Lea to set the table.

Her and Bea’s voices seemed to come from far away. I went over my situation again and again.

My aunt and uncle lived in a tiny house. I would be sharing a room and a bed with my cousins. Sharing. My aunt and uncle had no servants but two, one who worked as their cook and one who worked in their stables. That was it. This had to mean that my aunt and daughters did the cleaning around the house, and it further meant that I would have to help. I wondered what Mother would say if she knew.

I burned with humiliation at the thought of anyone I knew finding out I had to stay here. I burned with anger at my parents for sending me here. I should be at home right now.

Tears blurred my vision as my aunt asked me to help Bea spread the tablecloth over the small table. Everything in this house was small.

“Are you all right, Miss Anna?” Bea said softly to me once my aunt had left the room to find Lily and Lea.

“No. No, I am not all right.” I angrily smoothed a wrinkle in the tablecloth we had just put down. “I am so far from all right that I would like to die right now. This is so embarrassing.”

Bea stopped and looked at me. The boldness that had always been so muted at my home was strong now, and it shone in her eyes. “Miss,” she began. “I know it’s not really my business, but I feel this has to be said. While this isn’t as nice or big as your house, you ought to count your blessings. You have an aunt and uncle that love you, who took you in even though they’re already hard-put financially. You’re being protected from a horrible sickness, and you’ve got a roof over your head. Can’t you see all of that?”

My anger burning stronger and my tears threatening to spill faster, I mumbled something about not being hungry before fleeing the room and running upstairs, where I went into my cousins’ room, closed the door and collapsed on the bed, sobbing into a pillow.

This couldn’t be happening. This. Couldn’t. Be. Happening.

(for those of you who have never seen this story, just search “Anna Willowford” and it should pull all the other chapters up xD )

“Make sure to tell your Aunt Liliana we send our love,” Mother said sadly. She hugged me tightly, and I could tell she was barely containing her tears.

“I will, Mother,” I said, trying to ignore the fear threatening to make me scream. I was afraid to leave, because leaving meant we were resigning ourselves to this dark time. It meant we were admitting it had the upper hand. It meant surrender.

“Come along, Anna!” Beatrice said, holding open the stagecoach door. Beatrice (or Bea, as I preferred to call her) was one of our older maids, and Mother was having me take her along on the trip as my chaperon, mainly because Delmont was going with us. His aunt and uncle lived not far from mine, and he was going to stay with them.

I thought the whole thing was ridiculous. I was eighteen, practically an adult.  My parents were just as susceptible to cholera as I was; in fact, I probably had a better chance of fighting the sickness since I was younger. And I would rather rip out all my hair then travel anywhere for a day with Delmont. I shuddered, trying to pretend I wasn’t really in a carriage with him. This is all just a nasty dream, I told myself. You’ll wake up and find yourself in your own bed and-

“Are you all right, Anna?”

I looked up to find Delmont smiling sympathetically at me. Trying not to roll my eyes, I said, “Yes, I’m fine. I just don’t feel like leaving is all.”

“You don’t want to leave?” He looked quite shocked. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll get sick?!”

“Think about it, Delmont. If everyone was afraid they would get sick so they all left, who would take care of those who are sick? Besides, while some of the adults have an immunity to cholera because they went through it when they were young, most adults don’t – so they have just as good a chance as us of getting sick,” I snapped.

At his injured expression I instantly felt a bit of guilt, but then I pushed it back down. He needed a taste of reality.

“Goodbye, Anna,” Mother said tearfully one last time.

“Goodbye, Mother,” I replied sullenly.

“Try to listen to your aunt and uncle, Anna,” Father said gravely. The other implied part of his sentence was, Since you certainly haven’t been doing a good job listening to your mother and I.

I didn’t reply, instead looking straight ahead . . . only, that wasn’t the smartest idea, because then I was staring straight at Delmont. Annoyed, I looked at the floor as the carriage finally pulled away, trying to erase the image of Mother’s pale, worried face from my mind.

We rode through the main part of the city then. People had painted white marks on their door frames to signal sickness in the household, and I almost wanted to hold my breath as we rode past each one. I chided myself then. Oh, please, I thought. This is coming from the same girl who was just saying she should be allowed to stay behind.

“Don’t worry, Anna, I won’t let you get sick,” Delmont said, trying to be brave for me even though he was clearly frightened.

“As if you can control that,” I muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, how kind of you.” I smiled quickly before looking away, gritting my teeth and burying my hands in the folds of my dress so I could clench them into fists.

~

We’d been out of the city itself for about an hour or so now, and Delmont had begun his senseless chatter now that we were breathing cleaner air and not being stared at by indignant sick people who felt we were fleeing cowardly.

“It was a terribly boring party,” Delmont rambled. “The music was played poorly, the wine was bitter . . . Kingsfield Manor won’t be having a ball again anytime soon.”

I sighed. “Delmont, do you ever do anything worthwhile?!”

He said nothing, clearly flabbergasted.

“All over England widows and their children are forced out of their homes for failure to pay taxes. The poor are discriminated, and the simple, moral way of life is lost in the ‘need’ for entertainment – and you complain about a party?”

“Miss Willowford,” Bea chided quietly but firmly.

“No, Bea, I want to know why,” I insisted. I looked back at him. “Well?”

“I . . . I never thought of it that way,” he said, stunned.

“Then I’ll thank you to be silent unless you have something worthwhile to speak of,” I said coolly before looking out the window once more.

Bea was dumbfounded beside me. “Mr. Chevalier, please pardon my mistress, she . . . she’s just . . . ”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” he said, his mask of charm up once more. “I’m sure Miss Willowford is just tired from our journey.”

No, you stuck-up prig; the thing that’s making me tired is your never-ending babble, I thought angrily, my hands in fists once more.

We rode mostly in silence for the rest of the journey then, Delmont reading a book or napping to pass the time. I just stared sullenly out the window, my spirits dropping even further when the skies turned gray and it began to rain. The carriage wheels nearly got stuck in the mud a few times, and I wondered if we would ever get to our destination.

The little light in the sky quickly disappeared and the rain increased, and the driver suggested we stop at an inn for the night. None of us could disagree with him; it was miserable in here and must be ten times worse for the driver. We stopped at the first inn we found and quickly went in, our driver taking the horses and carriage to the stable.

“Good evenin’, sir, I’m afraid we’ve hardly any rooms left – ” the innkeeper began. Then he took a closer look at Delmont and I and saw our fine clothes. “Sir, Miss,”  he addressed Delmont and I. “I will get you our finest rooms at once!” He hurried off, stopping to hurriedly whisper something to his wife.

“Please, follow me!” he said then, hurrying upstairs. We wearily trudged along behind him, and I wondered if I could actually make it up all those stairs without falling asleep.

After I had taken a warm bath and gotten all the grime off of myself, I sank onto the bed in my room. My stomach was growling but I was too weary to go all the way back downstairs for supper.

Knock knock. Sighing, I got up and opened my door. Sounds of laughter and talking drifted up to me from downstairs as I did so.

The innkeeper’s wife stood there bearing a tray. On it was a bowl of steaming stew and two pieces of bread that smelled glorious, and a little bowl of butter. There was a tumbler of milk and a cup of tea. I felt ready to faint at the sight of it all.

“I thought you’d be wantin’ to have your supper upstairs, mum,” she said, handing me the tray.

“Thank you,” I said wearily. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, mum.” She gave a little bob before she closed the door, and then she hurried downstairs.

I carried the tray over to the little table in the room and set it down, sinking down into the chair. I said a silent prayer before I ate. Dear God, thank You for this food. Please watch over us tonight and as we continue our journey tomorrow. Please help me not to kill Delmont before I get to my aunt and uncle’s. In Your Name I pray, Amen.

I ate my food like a ravenous wolf, enjoying the immense freedom from being at home at the dinner table and having my parents watch me like hawks to make sure my table etiquette was perfect. How wonderful it was to put my elbows on the table and just dig in. And that was not to mention that the food was delicious, better than even our cook Irene made – and her food was amazing.

When I was done I collapsed onto my bed once more, my stomach full and my heart, for the moment, content. I was warm, I was well-fed, and I had a roof over me. I would think on tomorrow’s problems tomorrow.

And with that thought, I closed my eyes and went right to sleep.