Note: Hey everyone! Welcome o the next installment of Annabelle's adventure! In lieu of other things, I decided to discontinue my other story to begin this one. Sorry! I hope you enjoy this though! Be sure to follow, review, and favorite! :)
Annabelle Montel sighed, staring out the window of the sitting room of her west Ireland manor, her hands lightly resting on her swollen belly. According to Doctor Mclaughlan, her child was due any day now. It was a day that she feared more than any other. Though she and her husband had lain together many a night before the day her pregnancy was confirmed, she was afraid that another night, in a place miles from where they now lived, was actually the cause. The possibility that Captain Jack Sparrow, infamous pirate, was the actual father of the child that lay in her belly was something she feared very greatly indeed.
Her husband, Jacob, was ecstatic. He looked very forward to becoming a father, something that he'd undoubtedly do well at. He was quite gentle and caring, when not in his military post of Commodore. She prayed that his efforts weren't going to be used on a child who did not actually belong to him.
She turned around, hearing the creak of the large wooden door that led to the outer halls. It was Mary, the nursemaid that Jacob had hired in anticipation for the child's birth. She looked at Annabelle with a kind curiosity under her strong black brows, her green eyes filled with sympathy.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" she asked, walking quietly into the room and sitting next to her mistress.
"What? Oh, yes, I'm quite fine, thank you," Annabelle replied, looking briefly at the woman who would take over most of the mothering responsibility after her child was born.
"Now, ma'am, I'm very near thirty years of age, and I've cared for many an expecting mother. I think I should be able to tell when somethin's gone amiss," her voice, coated with an Irish brogue, was kindly stern. "Come now, tell Mary what's wrong."
The maid took one of Annabelle's slim, fair hands in both of her darker ones. Annabelle gave the Irish woman a wan smile. Mary returned it in turn, though brighter, her features motherly and strong.
"I'm…I'm so frightened, Mary," Annabelle said, her voice wavering and tears filling her eyes. "What-what if-?"
"Now, now, my dear, there's nothin' to worry about. Everythin' will be fine. I promise. It's not the birth you should be worryin' about. It's everythin' after that!" Mary gave a soft chuckle, lightening the mood slightly.
Annabelle silently leaned into the dark Irish woman, resting her head against her shoulder. The maid wrapped her arms around the eighteen year old auburn haired girl, whispering words of comfort in her ear. Annabelle let the tears, and her fear, escape from her eyes. Mary simply held her, letting her express all the emotion she'd been bottling up for nine months. Lord knows, she'd probably been through enough of this in all her years of work, but she remained uncomplaining. It was times like this that Annabelle wished she'd grown up with Mary as a mother, rather than Catherine Crowe, a fair haired, emotionally distant woman nearing her forties. Annabelle had grown up with very little outward affection from the woman, and had often wondered if she held any for her in that regard. That thought prompted a question for Mary.
"Do you have any children of your own?" she asked, looking up into the maid's green eyes.
Mary smiled gently. "Aye, two boys and a girl. My husband died near about five years ago. My boys are nearly grown, my girl's gettin' there too, now I think about it. Just passed her first birthday last month."
"Is it difficult?" Annabelle asked. "Do you…do you not hold the same love for them as you did when they were born?"
Mary's eyes widened in shock. "Lord, no! I love them with every bit of me heart and soul, ma'am. They're my life, always have been, always will be."
"Do you think I'll be a good mother?" Annabelle asked, truly wanting to know the answer.
"Aye, I think you will," Mary replied sincerely, giving Annabelle a quick squeeze. "You're holdin' a lot of love in that young heart of yours. It's just burstin' to give it to someone. Your husband and baby are very lucky to have such a caring woman in their lives."
Annabelle returned the squeeze, incredibly grateful that this woman had come into her life. A woman who wouldn't turn her concerns away as imprudent, a woman who gave helpful advice, a woman who acted like a mother.
Mary took her hand, pulling her up from her seat.
"Come," she said, leading her to the door. "I've somethin' to show you."
Annabelle walked with her down the hall down the west wing of the manor, just past the chambers that she and Jacob shared. She had to keep looking at her feet so as to not trip over the skirts of her pale blue gown. Feeling a little winded, they arrived outside the door, at which time Mary covered her eyes with her hands.
"I'll tell you when you can look," she whispered, slowly leading Annabelle into the room.
When Mary uncovered her eyes, it was all Annabelle could do not to cry. It had been transformed from a guest room into a nursery. A cradle padded with softly knitted blankets lay next to the western wall and a beautifully designed oak rocking chair sat in front of the one rather large window overlooking the hills that constituted the manor's grounds. A small wooden chest held a small collection of children's toys, and the room held an overall new air of warmth and coziness that hadn't been present before.
Annabelle turned, wrapping her arms around the nursemaid, nearly knocking her over due to her own pregnant belly.
"Oh!" Mary exclaimed, hugging the young girl back, laughing. "I thought you'd like it!"
"It's beautiful, Mary, thank you so much!" Annabelle cried, laughing and crying at the same time.
"Now now, enough of all this cryin'! The comin' of a child is a time for celebration, not sadness! Let's go-"
They both turned to see Catherine Crowe standing in the doorway, looking poised and prim as ever. She looked at Mary coldly, nodding her head, excusing her from the room. Mary nodded back respectfully, quickly exiting from the women's presence. Catherine approached her daughter, careful not to wrinkle her plum colored gown, and greeted her with a chaste peck on the cheek. Annabelle returned the gesture, though half-heartedly.
"Hello, Mother," she said, looking down again at her swollen stomach.
"Hello, Annabelle. How are you?" her mother asked, taking her hand and leading her from the room, shutting the door crisply behind them.
"Fine, Mother. Everyone is fine. When did you arrive? I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you, but Mary was just showing me-"
"It's no matter, dear," Catherine cut her off, waving her hand dismissively. "you're busy, I'm sure." her voice held a tone that suggested otherwise.
]"Yes, I have been distracted lately," Annabelle replied, ignoring her mother's rather rude tone of voice. "The baby is due any day now, and-"
"Yes, I'm quite aware," Catherine cut her off rather sharply, and sat in a plush room, having entered the sitting room again. "That's the precise reason I came here, Annabelle. I intend to assist in the birth of my grandchild."
"You didn't go to Daniel's house when his wife was pregnant," Annabelle said, annoyed that her mother had taken it upon herself to arrive unannounced, when she hadn't intruded so rudely on her older brother's wife.
"That was different," her mother replied impatiently. "Virginia's mother was already assisting the process. I intend to be there for yours."
The muscles in Annabelle's abdomen tightened suddenly, all of her body clenching up with it. She'd been feeling the contractions for days, her doctor had told her that it was her body preparing for birth. For some reason, these were different. Another contraction overcame her, and her mother began to look alarmed.
"What is it, Annabelle?" she asked urgently, taking her daughter's hand tightly.
"I think…you're just in time Mother," Annabelle replied through clenched teeth. "I think…the time is now."