Disclaimer: All ideas of the Night World etc. belong to L J Smith, the
original story of Beauty and the Beast belongs to whoever wrote the fairy
tale, and some ideas belong to Robin McKinley (has taken a lot of influence
from her wonderful book 'Beauty'). The rest (characters, places etc.)
belong to ME!!!
Note: This story is set in no particular time-like most fairy tales. There are witches etc. of the Night world, but there are no councils etc. and humans are allowed to know about night people (although most like to hide their heritage). At this time and place, witches are the most common, vampires are rare and shape shifters are almost unheard of (sort of childrens' fairy tale creatures). I hope you like my version of Beauty and the Beast.
Just A Single Red Rose
Annabelle never saw her self as a beauty nor as a girl with noticeable looks. She was plain, not ugly, but plain. She was unlike her two elder sisters, whose looks were renown over as many as half a dozen towns.
The girls' mother was also a great beauty, but she had died shortly after the birth of her youngest-plain little Annabelle. The first born of their mother was Lorna. Lorna was destined to be beautiful from the moment she entered the world, with her soft ebony curls, snow-like skin and eyes the colour of emeralds-and her beauty flourished as she grew.
Secondly, Eleanor was born three years after Lorna. Her looks were unlike Lorna's in all ways. She was blessed with long tresses of gold, falling down her back as does a waterfall and her skin was the colour of sun-tanned peaches-rosy and bright. But her eyes were the marvel of the family-clear and blue as a spring morning in the sunlight with golden lashes framing the jewels.
Lastly, four years later, Annabelle was born into the world. She would not have me speak of her looks, yet I feel it necessary to complete the descriptions of the three sisters. And yet the ironic thing was was that Annabelle was born with great beauty, enough to rival that of her siblings. She was born with thick locks of butter-yellow- far outmatching the gold of Eleanor. And her eyes were a smoky green, with hints of the blue famously worn by the middle child. Over all she was a delightful child to look upon.
But as she grew her beauty began to fade. Her buttery tresses were streaked with a dirty brown, and the green and blue of her eyes began to merge to form a murky greyish. By the time she had reached the ripe age of seven, her once sun-kissed hair was now mousy-neither blonde nor brown, and her eyes a mixture of grey and muddy hazel. And even when she had reached the early stages of adolescence, her figure did not appear and she remained stick-like and awkward.
Over all she was the plainer of the three.
The deterioration of beauty among their kind was almost unheard of-a Hearth Woman's beauty could almost always outmatch that of a human girl.
Annabelle often heard fellow witches talk of this mystery-when they believed that she could not hear them of course.
"It is strange that Lorna and Nellie should be granted such beauty and poor Belle receive hardly enough to be recongnised as a daughter of Hellewise." One would say pouring over one of the many books on herb-lore.
"Indeed," another would answer, "It is odd. Yet I feel that the only explanation is that dear Eve poured all her strength and beauty into the first two-she most likely did not foresee the last one."
And that was the accepted reason. Eve being their mother of course, Nellie being a pet name for Eleanor and Belle being that for Annabelle.
Annabelle did not see it fit to be referred to as Belle due to the fact that it was the word for 'beauty' in a tongue unknown to her. She found it inappropriate and foolish to call a girl the complete opposite of her nature.
People were kind enough about it to her and they did their best not to favor Lorna and Nellie over her. But they found it difficult. But Annabelle had grown used to it over the past nine years (being that at this time she was of the age of fourteen and that her beauty began to fade when she reached five).
Her sisters were as caring and good-hearted as they were beautiful, and not at all vain or conceited. To this Annabelle was often resentful, for it often seemed that they carried absolutely no flaws. But of course this was untrue-as it is for all people either of the Night World of the human world.
And as for the sisters-Lorna's intellect was nothing compared to that of Annabelle and in her mind she was a simple girl with simple thoughts. Whereas Nellie had some knowledge (yet not much), she did not own a single musical bone in her body. Her skills of piano, flute, and harp were disastrous and her voice would not hold a tune even for all the riches of the land. And of course, her spell work was not to its best-her charms and incantations did not always go to plan.
And yet no one seemed to take note of this. The beauty of the pair blinded them. Very often Annabelle would feel cheated of the attention of doting admirers, but she soon overcame it. For the sweet-nature of her sisters made her love them beyond the world.
The girls and their father were the only witches in the small town (of course most of the townsfolk knew nothing of the family's heritage), yet they were sometimes visited by witches from other towns. The town they lived in was small and contained, as the its name of 'Little Knoll' signifies, with a small tavern, blacksmiths, tailor, wheelwright, wainwright and so on. Little Knoll did not have much else to speak of.
The house the family lived in was a little cottage, backing on to the Wood, which spanned for many acres. At the front of the cottage ran an unkept dirt track that lead to the main road. This road ran all the way to the city, some six weeks journey as the bird flies.
Between the house and the forest was a reasonable sized garden, large enough to hold the chicken coop, a herb garden and still have some (unkept) lawn remaining. At the side of the house were the stables. These contained only two horses-the one the girls' father rode and the one shared among the girls themselves (although neither Lorna nor Nellie took pleasure in riding him).
The cottage itself was not large, but it was adequate for the four of them. Yet most of the time it was only three in the house, for their father was often away in the city or other towns. He was a merchant. Not a particularly wealthy one, but successful all the same. He sold mostly fine materials and fabrics, but other things with special customers. The special customers were other witches and the other things were things which only witches would require. He did a lot of dealings of dragon and unicorn blood- all pure of course, he had nothing to do with black magic. And also very hard to come by herbs were a specialty of his.
So because of the father's business he often had to leave his girls in order to visit the city. Neither Lorna nor Nellie seemed to mind the often absence of their father, but each parting pained young Annabelle. Annabelle dearly loved her father and he adored her. He treasured her beyond anything yet this never bothered the two elder sisters-they were content with getting on with their beautiful lives outside of their family.
And Lorna did have a life outside her family-she was to be wed to the blacksmith's first apprentice, Thomas, as soon as the next spring fell. They had been engaged for nigh on three years, since the eve of Lorna's eighteenth birthday. He knew well of her heritage, as Lorna would not have him ignorant of his wife's lineage, and he thought the idea of being married to a witch wonderful. Yet not everything would run smoothly for the soon to be weds, for Thomas was to be a blacksmith and therefore he would have lots of dealings with iron. And iron was deadly to witches. This caused Lorna's father to forbid the girl from entering the smithy-a difficult task for the wife of the first apprentice. But Lorna was not put off-she would marry Thomas if she had to sell her own magic to do so.
Of course, the fact that Lorna was to be married broke all the hearts of the local lads. But of course, they then moved onto eighteen year old Nellie-a beauty who could heal any hearts broken by Lorna. And the talk filling the local tavern, 'The Speckled Hen', was often concerning who Nellie was the sweetheart of lately.
"Oh, she's a beauty by no mistake an' such a good 'eart too-I always fancied her for me young lad, Tobias. He's 'ad 'is eyes on 'er for years!" Old man Roger would often say to the landlord over a pint of the local brew.
"Young Eleanor is blessed with such a beauty that I myself feel more than often rivaled!" Lady Scarlet would chuckle over a glass of the finest red The Hen could supply.
Lady Scarlet was the owner of Rivendean House-the stately manor house, situated over the Hill to the east of Little Knoll (the Hill being the knoll referred to in the town's name). Lady Scarlet had not even reached the prime age of thirty when she had been widowed three times-all husbands having died of perfectly natural causes of course-but it was often said that if you married Lady Scarlet, you would die and early death.
"Oh, don't marry 'er! She's a Lady Scarlet if I ever saw one!" A nosy drinker would say to a nervous husband to be.
But most people thought this utter nonsense of course-the people of 'Little Knoll' were far too sensible to believe such ridiculous superstitions. Although some people did comment about the queerness of those who lived on the east side of the Hill-this was the land engulfed by the Wood and the Wood was feared for its strangeness even beyond the wildest of superstitions.
It was said that unearthly things lived in the Wood and that terrifying beasts would come out at the full moon to ransack cattle and sheep. And people found it odd that Annabelle and her family lived so close to the Wood's borders-the whole town would fear for the girls' lives at the full moon.
But Annabelle found the Wood fascinating-her father had told her wonderful stories about it when she was young. He would tell her of the last unicorn, the lonely animal that roamed the Wood in search of another of its kind-but to no avail. And of course there was the tale of Glory, the princess who lost her way in the Wood many years ago and spent the centuries mourning over the loss of her lover, whom had forsaken her for another. Annabelle cherished each of the tales her father told her and believed every word even when she had reached adulthood.
But now we must get on with the story, a story which takes place when Annabelle is at the tender age of fourteen. It starts on a cold autumn morning-imagine the scene-Lorna is sitting in the lumpy, green arm chair, stroking their tabby cat, Luna. Nellie is desperately trying to learn a new charm to make the chickens lay more eggs. Their father is outside packing his horse's saddlebags with various things to take on his next trip. And lastly Annabelle is arranging the few roses they have in a pitcher on the mantelpiece.
"This blasted charm! The hens will never lay any eggs at the rate I am going," Nellie sighed, frantically turning the pages of the book in front of her.
"Be patient Nellie, you will master it soon," Lorna replied, tickling Luna beneath the chin.
"I certainly hope so." Nellie leant back over the book to begin work again.
Annabelle stared out of the window at her father as he made ready to leave once again.
She sighed. "Oh how I wish father was not going away again-he has barely been home a month!"
"He will return soon," Lorna said cheerfully, "and perhaps he shall bring us presents from the city!"
"Oh yes! How I desperately wish for some enchanted lapis lazuli-it is said to do wonders for spell work," Nellie stood, joining Annabelle by the window.
Annabelle did not care for presents-she only wanted her father at home. She turned from the window and sat by the fireplace to throw some sprigs of rosemary onto the fire.
She turned as the door opened and her father walked briskly in.
"Well my girls, all is set and I shall be leaving now," he smiled, yet it was one of regret.
"Do have a good trip father, we shall miss you," Lorna said, getting up from the chair, causing Luna great distress as she did.
"Yes, do, and come home safely. We shall think of you every day," Annabelle whispered anxiously, going over to embrace her father.
"Don't fret, my little one, I shall be home before you know it!" He replied, stroking Annabelle's mousy hair.
He turned to face all his daughters and asked them if he could bring them anything back from the city. No, they said, their only wish was that he should return home soon and safely (but Annabelle saw that her two sisters did not truly mean this-they desperately desired gifts).
"Oh, come now, children," he replied. "Pretty girls want pretty things: What little trinkets do you secretly think about?"
The girls looked at each other, not sure what to say to this offer.
Finally Nellie spoke, not meeting her father's eye. "Well, father, I have been wanting some-only if it is no trouble of course-some spelled jewels- nothing fancy-just some to help me with my spell work. I have been having trouble recently."
He smiled and nodded-such things would not be hard to find in the city.
Secondly Lorna spoke. "Well, father, I have recently run out of my scent- the enchanted one . . . to bring luck-and I would dearly like to have some more . . . if that is possible."
He once again smiled and nodded-such perfumes would cost dear, but would be easy to find.
Finally, it was Annabelle's turn . . . but she said not a word.
"Belle? My dearest, what do you desire from your old father?" He asked.
"Only for your quick and safe return, dear father," she replied, smiling.
"Come now, dear one, there must surely be something you think of," he persisted. "Do you not desire jewels and scents? Do such dear and desirable things not tempt you?"
Annabelle was sure that she saw guilty looks cross her sisters face-they knew that their requests would cost their father dear.
Annabelle turned to her father and sighed. "Father, there is something you can bring me-you know how I love roses, and they are so rare in these parts- the ground will not grow them. If you could bring me a single red rose- enchanted, so that it will never wilt-I . . . I will be eternally grateful," and she added with a smile, "and I shall be the envy of all the girls in Little Knoll."
Her father was shocked. "Merely a rose? A rose would cost nothing in the city-even an enchanted one. Are you sure that you desire no jewels, no fine gowns, no rare books?"
Annabelle laughed and kissed her father. "All I ask for is a single rose, dear father, that is all."
He laughed also and turned to face his three girls. His two beauties- dark and mysterious Lorna and bright and angelic Nellie-both planted light kisses upon his cheek. Annabelle stood back and smiled-she would miss her father dearly, but she had been without him before.
"Well children, do not expect me before the spring-I shall be unable to travel in the winter," he sighed. "I shall miss you all dearly, but do not think of this old man too often. Especially you, Lorna-you have a wedding to plan."
At this Lorna blushed, bringing pink to her ivory cheeks-a rare occurrence. Their father turned to the door and walked slowly out to his horse, Clover, whom he quickly mounted.
"Good bye, father! Return soon!" Annabelle cried after her father, who had began to ride towards the dirt track. She felt warmth in her eyes, as the tears began to swell.
She stood, staring at the track, but her father was out of sight. Lorna and Nellie had already returned inside to prepare luncheon and Annabelle, too, went inside and fell heavily into the lumpy armchair.
"Come now, Belle, he will be home before you know it-do not weep," Lorna spoke, stroking Annabelle's mousy locks.
Annabelle sighed and stared at the three roses upon the mantel piece- it had been all she could find in Little Knoll. And these were already beginning to wilt.
Oh how she wished for that rose.
***
Did you like it? Please read and review! I will update soon-I like writing this one.
Note: This story is set in no particular time-like most fairy tales. There are witches etc. of the Night world, but there are no councils etc. and humans are allowed to know about night people (although most like to hide their heritage). At this time and place, witches are the most common, vampires are rare and shape shifters are almost unheard of (sort of childrens' fairy tale creatures). I hope you like my version of Beauty and the Beast.
Just A Single Red Rose
Annabelle never saw her self as a beauty nor as a girl with noticeable looks. She was plain, not ugly, but plain. She was unlike her two elder sisters, whose looks were renown over as many as half a dozen towns.
The girls' mother was also a great beauty, but she had died shortly after the birth of her youngest-plain little Annabelle. The first born of their mother was Lorna. Lorna was destined to be beautiful from the moment she entered the world, with her soft ebony curls, snow-like skin and eyes the colour of emeralds-and her beauty flourished as she grew.
Secondly, Eleanor was born three years after Lorna. Her looks were unlike Lorna's in all ways. She was blessed with long tresses of gold, falling down her back as does a waterfall and her skin was the colour of sun-tanned peaches-rosy and bright. But her eyes were the marvel of the family-clear and blue as a spring morning in the sunlight with golden lashes framing the jewels.
Lastly, four years later, Annabelle was born into the world. She would not have me speak of her looks, yet I feel it necessary to complete the descriptions of the three sisters. And yet the ironic thing was was that Annabelle was born with great beauty, enough to rival that of her siblings. She was born with thick locks of butter-yellow- far outmatching the gold of Eleanor. And her eyes were a smoky green, with hints of the blue famously worn by the middle child. Over all she was a delightful child to look upon.
But as she grew her beauty began to fade. Her buttery tresses were streaked with a dirty brown, and the green and blue of her eyes began to merge to form a murky greyish. By the time she had reached the ripe age of seven, her once sun-kissed hair was now mousy-neither blonde nor brown, and her eyes a mixture of grey and muddy hazel. And even when she had reached the early stages of adolescence, her figure did not appear and she remained stick-like and awkward.
Over all she was the plainer of the three.
The deterioration of beauty among their kind was almost unheard of-a Hearth Woman's beauty could almost always outmatch that of a human girl.
Annabelle often heard fellow witches talk of this mystery-when they believed that she could not hear them of course.
"It is strange that Lorna and Nellie should be granted such beauty and poor Belle receive hardly enough to be recongnised as a daughter of Hellewise." One would say pouring over one of the many books on herb-lore.
"Indeed," another would answer, "It is odd. Yet I feel that the only explanation is that dear Eve poured all her strength and beauty into the first two-she most likely did not foresee the last one."
And that was the accepted reason. Eve being their mother of course, Nellie being a pet name for Eleanor and Belle being that for Annabelle.
Annabelle did not see it fit to be referred to as Belle due to the fact that it was the word for 'beauty' in a tongue unknown to her. She found it inappropriate and foolish to call a girl the complete opposite of her nature.
People were kind enough about it to her and they did their best not to favor Lorna and Nellie over her. But they found it difficult. But Annabelle had grown used to it over the past nine years (being that at this time she was of the age of fourteen and that her beauty began to fade when she reached five).
Her sisters were as caring and good-hearted as they were beautiful, and not at all vain or conceited. To this Annabelle was often resentful, for it often seemed that they carried absolutely no flaws. But of course this was untrue-as it is for all people either of the Night World of the human world.
And as for the sisters-Lorna's intellect was nothing compared to that of Annabelle and in her mind she was a simple girl with simple thoughts. Whereas Nellie had some knowledge (yet not much), she did not own a single musical bone in her body. Her skills of piano, flute, and harp were disastrous and her voice would not hold a tune even for all the riches of the land. And of course, her spell work was not to its best-her charms and incantations did not always go to plan.
And yet no one seemed to take note of this. The beauty of the pair blinded them. Very often Annabelle would feel cheated of the attention of doting admirers, but she soon overcame it. For the sweet-nature of her sisters made her love them beyond the world.
The girls and their father were the only witches in the small town (of course most of the townsfolk knew nothing of the family's heritage), yet they were sometimes visited by witches from other towns. The town they lived in was small and contained, as the its name of 'Little Knoll' signifies, with a small tavern, blacksmiths, tailor, wheelwright, wainwright and so on. Little Knoll did not have much else to speak of.
The house the family lived in was a little cottage, backing on to the Wood, which spanned for many acres. At the front of the cottage ran an unkept dirt track that lead to the main road. This road ran all the way to the city, some six weeks journey as the bird flies.
Between the house and the forest was a reasonable sized garden, large enough to hold the chicken coop, a herb garden and still have some (unkept) lawn remaining. At the side of the house were the stables. These contained only two horses-the one the girls' father rode and the one shared among the girls themselves (although neither Lorna nor Nellie took pleasure in riding him).
The cottage itself was not large, but it was adequate for the four of them. Yet most of the time it was only three in the house, for their father was often away in the city or other towns. He was a merchant. Not a particularly wealthy one, but successful all the same. He sold mostly fine materials and fabrics, but other things with special customers. The special customers were other witches and the other things were things which only witches would require. He did a lot of dealings of dragon and unicorn blood- all pure of course, he had nothing to do with black magic. And also very hard to come by herbs were a specialty of his.
So because of the father's business he often had to leave his girls in order to visit the city. Neither Lorna nor Nellie seemed to mind the often absence of their father, but each parting pained young Annabelle. Annabelle dearly loved her father and he adored her. He treasured her beyond anything yet this never bothered the two elder sisters-they were content with getting on with their beautiful lives outside of their family.
And Lorna did have a life outside her family-she was to be wed to the blacksmith's first apprentice, Thomas, as soon as the next spring fell. They had been engaged for nigh on three years, since the eve of Lorna's eighteenth birthday. He knew well of her heritage, as Lorna would not have him ignorant of his wife's lineage, and he thought the idea of being married to a witch wonderful. Yet not everything would run smoothly for the soon to be weds, for Thomas was to be a blacksmith and therefore he would have lots of dealings with iron. And iron was deadly to witches. This caused Lorna's father to forbid the girl from entering the smithy-a difficult task for the wife of the first apprentice. But Lorna was not put off-she would marry Thomas if she had to sell her own magic to do so.
Of course, the fact that Lorna was to be married broke all the hearts of the local lads. But of course, they then moved onto eighteen year old Nellie-a beauty who could heal any hearts broken by Lorna. And the talk filling the local tavern, 'The Speckled Hen', was often concerning who Nellie was the sweetheart of lately.
"Oh, she's a beauty by no mistake an' such a good 'eart too-I always fancied her for me young lad, Tobias. He's 'ad 'is eyes on 'er for years!" Old man Roger would often say to the landlord over a pint of the local brew.
"Young Eleanor is blessed with such a beauty that I myself feel more than often rivaled!" Lady Scarlet would chuckle over a glass of the finest red The Hen could supply.
Lady Scarlet was the owner of Rivendean House-the stately manor house, situated over the Hill to the east of Little Knoll (the Hill being the knoll referred to in the town's name). Lady Scarlet had not even reached the prime age of thirty when she had been widowed three times-all husbands having died of perfectly natural causes of course-but it was often said that if you married Lady Scarlet, you would die and early death.
"Oh, don't marry 'er! She's a Lady Scarlet if I ever saw one!" A nosy drinker would say to a nervous husband to be.
But most people thought this utter nonsense of course-the people of 'Little Knoll' were far too sensible to believe such ridiculous superstitions. Although some people did comment about the queerness of those who lived on the east side of the Hill-this was the land engulfed by the Wood and the Wood was feared for its strangeness even beyond the wildest of superstitions.
It was said that unearthly things lived in the Wood and that terrifying beasts would come out at the full moon to ransack cattle and sheep. And people found it odd that Annabelle and her family lived so close to the Wood's borders-the whole town would fear for the girls' lives at the full moon.
But Annabelle found the Wood fascinating-her father had told her wonderful stories about it when she was young. He would tell her of the last unicorn, the lonely animal that roamed the Wood in search of another of its kind-but to no avail. And of course there was the tale of Glory, the princess who lost her way in the Wood many years ago and spent the centuries mourning over the loss of her lover, whom had forsaken her for another. Annabelle cherished each of the tales her father told her and believed every word even when she had reached adulthood.
But now we must get on with the story, a story which takes place when Annabelle is at the tender age of fourteen. It starts on a cold autumn morning-imagine the scene-Lorna is sitting in the lumpy, green arm chair, stroking their tabby cat, Luna. Nellie is desperately trying to learn a new charm to make the chickens lay more eggs. Their father is outside packing his horse's saddlebags with various things to take on his next trip. And lastly Annabelle is arranging the few roses they have in a pitcher on the mantelpiece.
"This blasted charm! The hens will never lay any eggs at the rate I am going," Nellie sighed, frantically turning the pages of the book in front of her.
"Be patient Nellie, you will master it soon," Lorna replied, tickling Luna beneath the chin.
"I certainly hope so." Nellie leant back over the book to begin work again.
Annabelle stared out of the window at her father as he made ready to leave once again.
She sighed. "Oh how I wish father was not going away again-he has barely been home a month!"
"He will return soon," Lorna said cheerfully, "and perhaps he shall bring us presents from the city!"
"Oh yes! How I desperately wish for some enchanted lapis lazuli-it is said to do wonders for spell work," Nellie stood, joining Annabelle by the window.
Annabelle did not care for presents-she only wanted her father at home. She turned from the window and sat by the fireplace to throw some sprigs of rosemary onto the fire.
She turned as the door opened and her father walked briskly in.
"Well my girls, all is set and I shall be leaving now," he smiled, yet it was one of regret.
"Do have a good trip father, we shall miss you," Lorna said, getting up from the chair, causing Luna great distress as she did.
"Yes, do, and come home safely. We shall think of you every day," Annabelle whispered anxiously, going over to embrace her father.
"Don't fret, my little one, I shall be home before you know it!" He replied, stroking Annabelle's mousy hair.
He turned to face all his daughters and asked them if he could bring them anything back from the city. No, they said, their only wish was that he should return home soon and safely (but Annabelle saw that her two sisters did not truly mean this-they desperately desired gifts).
"Oh, come now, children," he replied. "Pretty girls want pretty things: What little trinkets do you secretly think about?"
The girls looked at each other, not sure what to say to this offer.
Finally Nellie spoke, not meeting her father's eye. "Well, father, I have been wanting some-only if it is no trouble of course-some spelled jewels- nothing fancy-just some to help me with my spell work. I have been having trouble recently."
He smiled and nodded-such things would not be hard to find in the city.
Secondly Lorna spoke. "Well, father, I have recently run out of my scent- the enchanted one . . . to bring luck-and I would dearly like to have some more . . . if that is possible."
He once again smiled and nodded-such perfumes would cost dear, but would be easy to find.
Finally, it was Annabelle's turn . . . but she said not a word.
"Belle? My dearest, what do you desire from your old father?" He asked.
"Only for your quick and safe return, dear father," she replied, smiling.
"Come now, dear one, there must surely be something you think of," he persisted. "Do you not desire jewels and scents? Do such dear and desirable things not tempt you?"
Annabelle was sure that she saw guilty looks cross her sisters face-they knew that their requests would cost their father dear.
Annabelle turned to her father and sighed. "Father, there is something you can bring me-you know how I love roses, and they are so rare in these parts- the ground will not grow them. If you could bring me a single red rose- enchanted, so that it will never wilt-I . . . I will be eternally grateful," and she added with a smile, "and I shall be the envy of all the girls in Little Knoll."
Her father was shocked. "Merely a rose? A rose would cost nothing in the city-even an enchanted one. Are you sure that you desire no jewels, no fine gowns, no rare books?"
Annabelle laughed and kissed her father. "All I ask for is a single rose, dear father, that is all."
He laughed also and turned to face his three girls. His two beauties- dark and mysterious Lorna and bright and angelic Nellie-both planted light kisses upon his cheek. Annabelle stood back and smiled-she would miss her father dearly, but she had been without him before.
"Well children, do not expect me before the spring-I shall be unable to travel in the winter," he sighed. "I shall miss you all dearly, but do not think of this old man too often. Especially you, Lorna-you have a wedding to plan."
At this Lorna blushed, bringing pink to her ivory cheeks-a rare occurrence. Their father turned to the door and walked slowly out to his horse, Clover, whom he quickly mounted.
"Good bye, father! Return soon!" Annabelle cried after her father, who had began to ride towards the dirt track. She felt warmth in her eyes, as the tears began to swell.
She stood, staring at the track, but her father was out of sight. Lorna and Nellie had already returned inside to prepare luncheon and Annabelle, too, went inside and fell heavily into the lumpy armchair.
"Come now, Belle, he will be home before you know it-do not weep," Lorna spoke, stroking Annabelle's mousy locks.
Annabelle sighed and stared at the three roses upon the mantel piece- it had been all she could find in Little Knoll. And these were already beginning to wilt.
Oh how she wished for that rose.
***
Did you like it? Please read and review! I will update soon-I like writing this one.