Chapter Text
Annabel Lee watched from afar as couples danced in the middle of the ballroom.
She leaned against the wall with one arm crossed over the other as she held a glass of champagne out in her free hand. She was glad that she was not asked to dance because she knew that if she had then there was no way she would be able to escape until the song, or songs, were over.
She was at a party hosted by some associate of her father's company, but she couldn't care less. Originally, she had tried to politely decline her father's offer to go to this party. Her father tried to convince her that by going she would see her fiancé there, and perhaps he thought that she would be thrill with excitement, but instead it did the opposite.
She knows what her father was trying to do. For her to get to know her fiancé better, but she truly could not be any more interested in him than the barest of minimums. Her father knows that, and no offense to Augustus, but it was the truth. She did not like him in that way, and she doubts she ever will.
Or rather, she is certain that her feelings will never go further than that of little likeness for him.
Her father told her that such matters of love take time (they had been engaged for almost a year now), and reminded her that she had already rejected the numerous of suitors that tried to pursue her. Not like she had liked any of them either. None of them came close of sparking an interest in her, because frankly, they were all the same. If they weren't boasting about their wealth, then it was about their social status.
She would much rather be left alone to her games if it weren't for her father's insistence on her finding a husband. It wasn't until the end of the social season that he said that the engagement between her and her childhood friend was set, and that she ought to do her best to show him that she was going to be a good wife. Of course, he had not said this in a scolding manner, but rather in a pleading way for he knows how she was.
She could understand to an extent of his worries. Of what it was to be of her reputation if she was not to marry this social season, her last societal acceptable social season. She knows that this was a primarily worry of his, and how it tied to him being a good father to her. As much as she would want to rebel against that, and she does, she could not help but feel pity for her poor father that had to play both roles of a parent.
Every now and again, she was reminded of a thought that stayed in the back of her mind. A thought that she knows that if she were to put more focus into, she might just unravel right now.
Months before, Annabel had tried to pry her father out of any more information he may know of the Finger Lakes cottage, and what became of it. However, the answer was always the same. That everything, everything was burned down, and that there was no need to talk about a tragedy such as that. In other words, nothing new and no hope that there was the slightest of chance that...
"Annabel Lee?"
Looking up from her glass of champagne, she realized that it was her fiancé in front of her.
How long had he been standing there?
"Augustus," she began, surprised that it had taken her this long to notice his presence. "What are you doing here?"
"Besides being invited to be here?" He joked, making her laugh awkwardly as he continued with a smile, "Well, I was hoping to spend some quality time with my soon to be wife, and in hopes that she may feel the same?"
She cringed internally at hearing him say "wife" and plastered on a fake smile, knowing that he won't notice the difference.
If anything, Augustus has been playing his part of wanting to put an effort to this relationship, and sought out to her any chance he could to spend time with her. She obliges, but only because she has to, with the endless encouragement from her father. A small part of her did initially feel sorry for Augustus, but it is slowly fading away the more he keeps on trying. She doesn't blame him, but it is utterly useless to force a flower to blossom when it simply cannot be done.
Not wanting to give his question with a response, she turns back to the couples waltzing and asked, "What do you think of the music playing?"
"Huh?" His brows scrunched up together with his smile faltering at the sudden question, and took a moment to respond as he listened to the music that was being played. "It's.. not bad?"
She nodded, not daring to speak again for she wanted to focus on the ending notes of the song, and how the couples came to a stop before leaving the dance floor again. It wouldn't be long before another song would be played by the orchestra, and a different set of couples would be upon the ballroom again.
Perhaps, talking with Augustus would not be such a bad idea, and she was getting quite bored. Her father, wherever he may be, would absolutely ask her later about her progress with Augustus, so might as well get it over with. And, if Augustus were to ask her for a dance, she is sure she will find a way to get out of it.
"No, thank you," she declined when she was offered a glass of champagne.
"Mr. Vandernacht, do you not like the champagne?"
Staring back at Ira Whitlock, the father of someone she longed to see and who she was conversing with, she replied, "I already had a few beforehand. I fear if I were to take another I would stumble over myself."
That was a lie, she hadn't had one glass, but that was because she would rather remember this.
He nodded, "I am quite the same, actually! It appears we have another thing in common, Leo. May I call you Leo?"
"I don't see why not," Lenore said, flashing a quick smile at him while he continued to talk to her and of her background.
However, it wouldn't be long until he mentioned, "It is a shame your uncle couldn't be here. I am sure he would have loved this."
"My uncle was never one for parties," she commented subconsciously. "He will only go to one if his presence was necessary, or if he was the one hosting the party."
Realizing the way Ira's brows were raising, she quickly added, "But in this case, the reason for his absence is because of a business matter."
"A business matter you say?" He asked and then got closer to her to say in a hushed tone, "Forgive me for intruding, but does it involve a certain train crash that happened a while back?"
Lenore recoils back from him, taking in a deep breath while closing her eyes for a brief second before she shakes her head.
She should have known that the crash would have made word around here. She shifts her footing, and takes a small step back from him, her cane barely moving from its spot.
Thinking that he must have done something wrong by her reaction, he was quick to apologize as he added, "I.. There was this rumor that I heard from the other gentlemen talk about, and again, I shouldn't have said anything."
Lenore did not say anything, making Ira quickly change the conversation to, "Have you gotten the chance to meet my daughter?"
He then went to look around the ballroom for his daughter, not waiting for her reply before pointing with his glass, "Right over there is my daughter Annabel Lee. You cannot miss her. She's the one with the loveliest of curls."
A part of Lenore did not want to look his way, but this was the reason she was here, was she not? So, mustering up the courage within herself, she goes to look and when her gaze finally meets where Annabel was, her breath hitched.
However, Ira was not done speaking, "The man beside her is Augustus Barnard, her fiancé." He scratched his friendly mutton chops in thought, "Soon to be husband in... in about a month from now. Yes, that seems about right."
Lenore's face fell at his words, her right hand tightening the handle of her cane, cursing under her breath. However, noticing that he was turning to look at her, she said with a quirk of her lips, "You must be overjoyed by the occasion! Congratulations to your daughter!"
His monocle fell onto his coat with the way he laughed, "You have no idea how long it took to get here, but I certainly am now, yes."
Ira was beginning to ask her a question when he saw that couples were starting to head towards the middle of the ballroom for a dance, and one of those couples included Annabel and her fiancé.
"What was that, Mr. Whitlock?"
"I was going to ask if you wanted to go congratulate her yourself, but perhaps after the dance." He said, pointedly watching his daughter with a faint smile.
"Perhaps."
On the other side of the room, Annabel was preparing herself for one dance, and one dance alone.
While she was talking with Augustus, she kept glancing away to the crowd, and finally caught a glimpse of her father.. but he wasn't alone.
He was talking with someone, but it wasn't any of his associates that she was aware of.
Unfortunately, the person's back was towards her, so she wasn't able to tell from this distance who they could be, but there was something about that hair that made her heart ache.
Annabel knew that it was uncommon to find such combination of hair color out in the wild, but there was only one other person that she knew that held such a color.
It was one of the many things that made her so unlike anyone Annabel has ever met in her life.
Seeing the same color, of jet black and white, in another person made her feel uneasy. The person's shortish hair that held the black hair on top but the white at the bottom was pulled into a small ponytail with a white ribbon to finish it off.
Against her better judgment, and to put her mind at ease, Annabel had asked Augustus if he wished to dance just so she could see better who this person that has caught her eye could be.
He happily agreed, and when the time came he took her hand in his as he guided her to the middle of the room. He lets her hand go once they found themselves a spot within the circles.
There were two circles formed, the inner circle was made up of the gentlemen, and the outer of the ladies. The way the dance worked was that they were to dance with their initial partner they came with before switching to a different one while the music played. The ladies would take one step to their right after a certain cue was played, while the gentlemen would do the same but to their left.
Having the advantage to look closer than before, she goes to see where her father was, but instead finds her father alone, and who was looking at her with a smile on his lips as he gave her a thumbs up before she returned her focus back on Augustus.
Just when the music was about to start, all of the gentlemen bow as the ladies curtsy before getting into position. Annabel positions one hand on the back of his shoulder, while the other one he holds it in his hand. Then, the music starts as they both start to sway side to side, one foot back then one foot forward, rinse and repeat.
She tried to catch any glimpse of the person she saw earlier when Augustus said, "You're quite good at this."
She dismissively said, "Huh?"
After she said this, she promptly returns her focus back on him. Since, she thought better to not raise any suspicion of what she was trying do.
His cheeks tinted pink as he said, "Um, you're a great dancer."
"Oh, thank you," it wouldn't be long until the cue would be played. "You're not so bad yourself."
He lets out a small laugh, "I try my best," and then graciously twirls her around as the cue in the song was played that made everyone simultaneously move to their corresponding ways.
Annabel briefly greets the gentleman before her as she places her hands just like she had with Augustus. Knowing that it was optional to talk with the individual one is dancing with, she takes this chance to search around the area for where that person could be.
Soon enough, she realized the reason why the gentleman was no longer with her father, and that was because they were in same circle as she was. Once again, she could not see his face as his back was turned towards her, but at least that meant that she was going to dance with him eventually. And, for that exact reason, it made her nervous more than she would ever admit. She tries to rationalize it with that she was sure that the person is just some other high-class snob, and to not expect anything else that could be similar to—
Another cue was played as she was once again twirled to be met with another gentleman.
Three more cues were later on played as Annabel danced with a different gentleman, but that's not all for she had the person she had been meaning to get a closer look all night right beside her.
This different gentleman before her was quite the talker. Making her need to answer him when needed, as she tried her best to look at the person's face, but it was becoming a difficult task to do when the gentleman almost made her lose her footing with the way he was moving a bit too fast that did not match the tempo that the orchestra was playing.
"-but enough about me. I heard you are getting married soon, yes?"
"Yes, indeed I am," she responded back, stepping her foot back swiftly if she wished to not be stepped on.
"Ah, I remember when I was getting married. Let me tell you, I had a terrible case of cold feet when I was at the altar, but do you know what made it go away?"
Internally sighing, she politely said, "Please do tell."
"It was the moment I saw her walk down the aisle that made every doubt I had go away in an instant." However, what he said next caught her off guard, making her almost lose her footing again. "Though, I could tell by your response earlier that you are not thrilled by it. Could it be that you are having cold feet?"
He stares off with a slight tilt to his face that is filled with curiosity, letting his mouth part to most likely ask another invasive question when a soft laugh erupts from Annabel.
"No, no, nothing of the sort, Mr. Dupin. It is simply that.." She trails off, trying to come up with a line to tell him, "..There is so much to be done still."
"Oh, I see," he nodded to show that he understood, though that questioning stare remained on his face. "Weddings tend to take much time and incredible effort from both couples. But, all that will matter in the end is who you will spend the rest of your days until the very end."
Reassurance to a marriage she was condemned to sounded ironic to her.
Instead of giving him a response, she gave him a tight smile. One that did not reach her eyes as she kept an ear out for the cue that was bound to come any time now.
However, the seconds that continued to go by made her think otherwise. When she was getting swayed to the other side, she tried to catch a glimpse of the person beside her, but once again, she was met with the person's back and the ponytail that moved along before she had to face the gentleman in front of her again.
The violins playing came to a soft pause when she was twirled once more. Just like she had to change her tempo to match up with the gentleman's, when it came to the twirl, she was unprepared. When she had stepped her foot behind the other, her heel had gone and slipped itself on the floor, causing her to lean backwards even more as her back was making way to kiss the marble floor in a matter of seconds.
She stopped breathing as a panic went through her in realization. Not because of how much it was going to hurt, though that may have a part in it, but because of the sudden unwanted attention she was going to have.
Her eyes were wide open as she extended one hand out towards the air when she was suddenly pulled back up. Annabel's hands found their way quickly towards her new partner's hand and back of their shoulder as they waltz.
"I'm so sorry," she blurted out immediately, "thank you for catching..."
She was unable to finish her phrase as the words had died in her mouth when she finally went to look up at the gentleman she had wanted to get a closer look at.
She was speechless, and she was certain that her expression was contorted into one of disbelief, way beyond it. On the other matter, her heart had begun to thump faster the more she continued to stare at the person's face.
Was she looking at a ghost?
A ghost that was sent to torture her?
And yet, those familiar blue eyes that stared back at her made her believe that this was real. That the warmth from those hands that held her so gently and so firmly confirmed the otherwise truths that she had been told.
No, it couldn't be...
Could it?
Suddenly, her head felt lighter, and the breath she let out felt as if that was the last bit of air out of her lungs, but in the smallest voice that she could muster at that moment, she said, "..Leno-?"
"You should be careful where you step, Miss Whitlock," the person intercepted, and while there was genuine concern in the tone, the smirk on their face told a different story.
There was no way her mind could be playing a cruel trick on her. That voice that she had spoken to before, that voice that she had listened to talk about anything to pass the time was welcomed back to her ears again.
Even when it has been a year or so since she has last seen her, the person that she was waltzing with was none other than Lenore.
The Lenore who she had gotten close to over the time she had spent over at the Finger Lakes cottage, who Annabel had considered a true, proper friend to her.
The very Lenore who is supposedly dead, but here she was in the flesh, and wearing a suit befitting of a gentleman. The same person who Annabel Lee had mourned over and was still mourning over if her black dress meant anything.
A variety of questions went through her head when she felt her hand itch to touch her face.
Had she been alive this entire time?
What happened back at the cottage?
Was she the only survivor that made it out of there alive?
Why is she wearing that suit? And who cut her hair?
What is she doing here?
Overwhelmed, Annabel had done something that she knew she was not supposed to, but she did it anyway.
She leaned her head against Lenore's shoulder as they waltz, her grip loosing, but not Lenore's.
Breathing in, and breathing out, she tried to regain her ground. That was all she could do when she heard her ask, "Do you wish to step off the dance floor?"
She ignored the question because she had wanted to ask her own. "..Is it really you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean," Annabel said firmly, her tone implying that she was not going to be taken for a fool. She went to look at the sky blue eyes that were already staring at her. Both stared at one another, waiting to see what the other was going to do next. Or, if the other would cave in, but it was uncertain for what exactly it was they were caving into. It was as if she was fighting a silent battle the longer she stared at those eyes that held something soft in them, softer even.
However, it was Lenore who tore her eyes away from her first, her face morphing into a cold expression.
"And what difference would it be to you if it was?"
Annabel had the answer at the tip of her tongue when the song had come to an end, and Lenore was already letting her go and stepping away from her as she bowed to her. Annabel did a small curtsy in return when Lenore was walking away from her. Why was she walking away?
Annabel goes to follow her, but because of the crowds of people, she was bound to lose her eventually.
"Dearest, over here!" Her father called when he came into her view and gently guided her out of the crowd. As he was guiding her out of there, Annabel could not help but look back to where Lenore had gone.
Once they were out, he turned towards her to say excitedly, "I saw you out there on the dance floor, and you even waltz with Mr. Leo Vandernacht."
"Leo?" If that was what she thought it was then something certainly went down at the cottage. Something that would explain what happened to Lenore.
"Yes! Leo Vandernacht, the gentleman you waltz with last. He is Thaddeus' own nephew!"
Looking back at the crowd from where she saw her last, she asked her father, "Do you know why Mr. Vandernacht has come here for?"
"Hmm, perhaps for the good party?" He said nonchalantly at first when he continued it with, "He is coming tomorrow for dinner, along with Augustus."
Turning her head to look back at her father so quickly that it was like he had gotten the whiplash instead, Annabel's eye twitched slightly as she said, "What now?"