Page 3 of The White Gloves


  ***

  ‘If you really wanted to show up that horrible grouchy old woman, you should do something wonderful!’ It was my firm belief everything could be solved with a party, and with the lack of social gatherings of late, I was determined to talk Uncle into hosting another event.

  ‘That old bat wouldn’t come to any event; therefore there is absolutely no need to throw one Annabelle.’

  Uncle Crawley sat in his chair by the fire with his pipe and his scotch, the corners of his bushy moustache turned down in his annoyance.

  ‘Well, so what if Lady Grisham thinks your image is floundering. So what if she thinks you’re as stuffy as an old hat. You really shouldn’t take notice of talk. Especially from those who have too many opinions and not enough class.’ I waited patiently for this to sink in. Uncle knew that the up-tight old Grisham was right. What had he done in so many years? Only attend to his business, although I am not entirely sure what that is. But he does like to be a part of the social calendar. And the fact that they had given up his seats at the theatre (of which he rarely attended) was enough to embarrass him into action.

  As he sat with his pipe, still puffing away like an angry train, I thought about my night. I caught Jennifer exiting the coat room in such a hurry, her cheeks crimson red. She was soon followed by Mr Archer; the portly little man having the nerve to wink at me as he rushed by. I started to regret lending her my gloves, as I was rather fond of the hairpins that were attached as decoration but feared that I may not see them again after all the activity they were getting tonight. I heard Mrs Whitmore complain of an uprising in her household staff to Wendy Bickley, but that was of little consequence as she would tell anyone who’d listen. Overall a rather dull evening, and although my dress was brand new and of the softest silk, there was only the regular crowd to appreciated it. Uncle Crawley had described me as the most beautiful flower, but being the only flower anywhere was starting to lose its joy.

  ‘That’s it!’ Uncle Crawley shouted standing up, causing his drink to rush out of its glass and into the fire. A blast of flames flew out at him and singed his eyebrows terribly, but he was too excited to care. I hurried to wipe the soot off my uncle’s face.

  ‘What have you thought of Uncle? Because a party really would be a good way to teach old Grisham.’

  ‘No, no, no! What I need is someone to represent me at all these silly events if I am unable to make them due to business. That way, the name of Crawley will still be present and certain privileges shall remain untouched!’ he exclaimed, pulling his trousers up at the front in agitation, obviously still thinking of his seat loss.

  ‘Do I not do those things for you?’ I let a tear well in my eye, just to emphasise my point.

  ‘Yes my dear. But you cannot go anywhere unaccompanied and although you are my sister’s daughter you do not carry my name. If I had a silent partner in the business who could attend on behalf of Crawley Industries, why then, you could go too!’

  I fixed my hair in the mirror to buy myself time to think. Men always want answers immediately but women know there is no point in answering without thoughtful consideration. A chance to broaden my calendar would be a definite end to my current boredom, but the possibility of being stuck with some stuffy old man would be worse. Once again, it was apparent I would have to take charge.

  ‘Grisham would just love another top hat, pipe-smoking man to take down. You know she sees older gentleman as equals.’

  ‘Heck you’re right! Well then we’ll find a younger man. One who’s good looking, and fashionably dressed, and wonderful with women. That man who was at the masked ball, you spoke to him Annabelle, we’ll use him! That will show her! Grisham won’t stand a chance!’

  ***

  ‘Annabelle do not leave!’ Mr Banner shouted after the red dress that flew around the corner. But the high heels she was wearing did not slow her down and she was out the door and across the courtyard, chiffon billowing behind her. Mr Banner lengthened his stride to catch up with her and grabbed her by the arm to spin her around. What met him was a face full of anger. The glittering smile was replaced with a snarl and the perfect hair and lipstick were coming undone.

  ‘It’s because of me that you’re here Mr Banner. In my uncle’s house; mingling in our society. I chose that suit and recommended those shoes. I booked the opera and used my considerable influence to have them perform only the best pieces at the theatre. I ordered only the finest champagne and we danced to the best songs! Forgive me if I am struggling to understand that you wish to leave here with Jennifer Brooks and marry her in her father’s church!’

  Mr Banner sighed and tried to calm down the wildness that was brewing behind the diamonds. ‘That is not how it is...’

  ‘Oh, of course not! You were looking for her all along! Well let me tell you where she’s been these past couple of months – with every gentleman that would pay her a favour!’

  ‘Annabelle do not make up such stories.’

  ‘Stories? Just because something is difficult to comprehend does not make it false!’

  The breeze blew her hair across her face and Mr Banner took the quiet moment to tuck it behind her ear. She looked up at him with silent fury.

  ‘My dear Annabelle, I came here to find her. It was incredibly kind of you and your uncle to take such good care of me but I was always on the hunt for her. Please do not start stories about Miss Brooks as gossip does spread, and I do believe you are a little jealous. All the diamonds and gowns cannot be for nothing.’

  ‘Jealous!? I could have any of the gentlemen there tonight. I was the most admired!’

  ‘Of course you were, but you and I both know your uncle would never allow you to behave in such a way, and therefore you are left on the shelf, like your diamonds, too fabulous to touch.’

  Annabelle paused, deciding exactly which way to ruin this man. But what he had said struck true, and the necklace, bracelet and earrings she wore now bore down on her with a weight she had never known. The last eighteen months, which had seemed like all her hopes had finally been realised, now stood as a tainted shadow behind her. And with the situation looking hopeless and her heart in a thousand pieces, she did what any woman backed into a corner would do – and rose above him.

  ‘I may be an untouchable diamond, Mr Banner, but you play with hearts carelessly, you lie to those that care about you, and you will never shine bright enough for any woman to truly love you!’ And with that, she turned, and walked back to the manor, still glittering despite nightfall.

  ***

  On a warm evening out, Lord Crawley, Annabelle Harrison-Blythe and Mr Banner rode in the carriage on their way to a party. Lord Crawley of immense size took one side, the Lady and the Gentleman sat together opposite. Miss Harrison-Blythe, being too excited, ignored the gentlemen’s discussion and imagined all the dresses that would be on show tonight. Mr Banner told Lord Crawley of his desire to find a lady wearing white gloves with silver hair pins in them as decorations. That he was in love with this woman and would stop at nothing to find her. Lord Crawley said he felt the same way about a bottle of scotch.

 
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