I accidentally wrote my assignment in Microsoft Word again and since the blog wont let me copy and paste I am posting my assignment as a series of comments. Sorry. I remember to do my assignment directly on the blog next week.
Aby stood outside of the massive house in the middle of the woods and studied the dark windows and over grown yard in the fading afternoon sunlight. The house looked as if it hadn’t been occupied in years, this couldn’t be the right address. She turned to climb back into the taxi but it had already driven away, leaving her in the middle of nowhere with no way back to the city. She glanced at her phone, no service. She turned back to the old house just in time to see the curtains flutter in the upstairs window. Curious, she moved towards the front door, and her echoing knocks were followed by the screech of hinges as the door slowly creaked open. Standing in the musty foyer was a frail old woman with suspicious eyes. “Who the hell are you? What do you want?” the woman croaked angrily. “Mrs. Fairie? My name is Abygaile Marsh, we spoke on the phone; your son hired me. Remember?” Aby urged gently. The old woman starred unblinking and un-acknowledging, and for the second time Aby was certain she was at the wrong address. Finally, after a long and very uncomfortable moment the old woman nodded and opened the door all the way. Without waiting for Aby to enter the old woman shuffled down the hallway and barked over her shoulder, “Close the door behind you. And take off your shoes; I won’t have you tracking mud throughout my home…” her voice trailed off to a faint mutter as she moved further away. Aby kicked off her shoes and followed the old woman down the long and silent hallway.
Still garbed in her best dress and cloak, the girl stood next to the fireplace trying to chase the chill of the winter wind from her bones; she knelt closer and held her hands out, occasionally she would bring them to her face to blow on them before shoving them back towards the warming flames. The girl’s mother came in carrying a warm quilt and hot tea. She walked stooped over and with a slight limp, as if the weight of the world was slowly pressing down on her. The girl took the blanket and tea and collapsed in the chair nearest the fire. She tucked her stocking clad feet under her and allowed her mother to begin undoing her hair. The two stayed in silence for a long while before the girl’s mother finally spoke. “My dear, Annabelle, did it go well?” her voice was quiet and her words seemed hollow, as if she didn’t have the energy to put forth in the conversation. The girl sighed and shook her head. It had not gone well; the Duke had not picked her. Rather he had picked a young girl, only 15, draped in a fabulously wealthy cream gown with luscious auburn ringlets that had cascaded down her back and framed her angelic face. Her mother forced a smile and patted the girl on the head, “It’s all right Anna. Perhaps the Duke’s uncle shall take a bride soon.” With another forced smile her mother patted her one more on the shoulder and limped out of the room. She had failed her family once again. She was not getting any younger, and with an aging father on his deathbed, a good marriage needed to be secured immediately. Before it was too late.
Aby found the old woman sitting in an aged armchair near an empty fireplace gazing angrily out the window, across her frail lap lay a worn and dully colored quilt which at some point had probably been beautiful. The old woman caught Aby’s gaze and gestured at the quilt, “It belonged to my great-great-great-great-grandmother. It is passed from woman to woman on the day of her wedding. She gave it to my great-great-great-grandmother, who gave it to my great-great-grandmother, and soon until, in turn, my mother gave it to me. But I have no daughter, so someday if my son weds I will give it to his bride.” She starred at Aby a moment longer before returning her gaze to the window. Aby watched as the old woman’s gnarled hands lovingly stroked the quilt and a smile broke across her face. Aby was shocked at how the smile transformed the old woman’s face; the bitterness and anger was replaced by a sense of calm and beauty that Aby had rarely ever seen. Leaving the old woman alone with her quilt and memories Aby retreated from the room to explore the rest of the house, and following her curiosity she climbed the grand staircase. She wondered down the hallway looking in the open doors: a bedroom, a bathroom, a library, another bedroom, another bathroom, a sitting room. None of them were particularly interesting, yet each one was decorated lavishly. From somewhere below her she heard the old woman screech, “Girl? Girl, where did you go? Get back here. It’s almost dinnertime, come help me carry in the vegetables from the garden. Girl, do you hear me?” Aby sighed and released the doorknob and trotted down the hallway and back down the stairs to find the old woman.
Weeks had passed, the Duke’s uncle had still not announced plans to take a wife and her father was worse off than ever before, just this morning he had begun coughing up blood in his sleep. Seated near her father’s bed she had heard the doctor talking to her mother in hallway, he hadn’t much time left. When her father died his land debts would need to be re-paid and she would no longer have any dowry. It was hard enough, at 17, to find a man willing to marry her, it would be near impossible to find a man willing to marry a girl so old without a proper dowry. Without a husband she, her younger sister, and her mother would be left to starve and die in the gutters. A knocking on the doors jarred her out of her self-pity and had her flying down the stairs. Pausing just out of view of the doorway she patted down her hair and readjusted her faded skirt as she listened to the man announce himself to the kitchen servant who had answered the door. She swept gracefully around the corner with chin held high as the man announced that the Duke’s uncle would be taking his third wife within the month; all women of marriageable age were invited to attend the ball, during which he would pick his next wife. After dropping into a short curtsey, she accepted the invitation and with a small smile she retreated back into the house, and up to her father’s room. “This was it,” she told him. This was her last chance to marry into a family of wealth and power, and this time she would not fail. She refused to marry into a family of landowners and spend the rest of her life living as she had in the past. She would not turn out like her mother, stooped and exhausted by a life of strain. She would sweep the Lord off his feet and she would become a Lady. He took in one long and pained breath “Is it worth it?” her father questioned, “Is it worth giving up love for a life of riches?” She rose from his bedside and walked from the room without answering his question. She didn’t return to his room, she swore she would not go back until she was a Lady-to-be. She would prove to him that she could have both, love and riches.
Weeks had passed, Aby had been so busy, cleaning the old house, tending to the yard and garden, and keeping the old woman company; but despite the work Aby had grown fond of the cranky old woman, just as the old woman had grown fond of the bubbly girl her son had hired to live with and take care of her. The two had just finished dinner and were seated in the drawing room near the cold and empty fireplace where they enjoyed hours reading together before the old woman would retire to her room for the night. This night, as fall bled into winter, the drawing room was damp and chilly and Aby could see the chill made the old woman’s bones ache. Having remembered seeing chopped firewood out near the tool shed Aby excused herself from the room and went to fetch the wood for the fireplace. Upon her return moments later Aby found the old woman dozing in the armchair with the faded quilt pulled up to her chin. When the old woman awoke Aby had a blazing fire started and the air in the drawing room was warm and cheery.
On the day of the ball Anna rose earlier than usual to ready herself for the occasion. Determined to be the one the Lord marries she spent hours preparing. Confident she would leave the ball betrothed, she had spent a small fortune (almost all her father had left) on a new gown. Dressed in a regal and compelling purple that complimented her tan skin and light hair she climbed into the carriage and the kitchen servant carted her away to the Lord’s castle. Upon her arrival she saw the Duke and his lovely young wife; she curtsied deeply and thanked them for the invitation. As the night wore on Anna danced with zest and pride with every man she could find, hoping that her liveliness would attract the needed attention from the Lord, the Duke, and his wife. More of an audition that a ball, Anna played her part perfectly and as the night began to near its end the Lord approached her and asked for a walk. It was the first time Anna had seen the Lord up close, and her first reaction was repulsion. The Lord was not an attractive man, he was cross-eyed and graying in the beard, no doubt he was almost as old as her father! She hid the reaction well and with a perfectly executed giggle she batted her eye lashes and accepted his offer. They walked the grounds of his castle and as the talked she began to grow fond of the lonely Lord, his temperament was kind and his actions respectable. Arriving home later that night she found her mother and younger sister, recently home from boarding school, wrapped in the quilt and crumpled in a dejected heap in front of the dying fire. Her father had died, and his question rung loudly in her head.
The old woman gazed out the window into the dark words and similar to the first day when Aby had first arrived at Mrs. Fairie’s home, the old woman gestured to the faded quilt. “My dear, would you like to hear a story? The tale about this quilt?” Confused by the old woman’s offer, Aby nodded her head and forced a smile to hide the worry she felt about the old woman’s health. Lately is had been declining swiftly, and the chill did nothing to help. The old woman folded her shaking hands on top of the quilt and began her tale.
A week later, on the day of her wedding, she sat in her father’s bedroom near the now empty bed. She knew she ought to be getting ready; today she would become a Lady and leave behind the world her father had provided her. She would repay his debts and her mother and sister would live richly as well. Throwing one last glance as the bed she spat out her answer, “Yes. It will be worth it.” She marched out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
“This quilt has been passed down in my family for generations, each time as a wedding gift. My great-great-great-great-grandmother gave it to her eldest daughter on the day she married a British Lord and moved to a great castle far from home. He was a foul man, dirty and rude, but he charmed her and she married him out of a yearning for riches, not out of love. What started out as happiness slowly grew to desperation and anger. It was not a happy marriage.”
She was happy for a while living with her husband in the large castle with the rich treasures filling every room. He kept her entertained with gifts and stories. And she lived, for the most part, carefree; she no longer needed to get up early to ride into the countryside and check on land and crops, she no longer was only allowed one bath a week, and as he husband had re-paid all her father’s debts she was no longer worried about her family. It was clear to her that marrying for riches was worth sacrificing love. But as the weeks dragged on and her husband’s temper grew worse and his demands more impossible she began to regret her decision and searched for ways to escape. Without the keys that her husband kept linked to his belt she was unable to leave the castle as the doors were all locked. Unable to leave, she would sulk in her room wrapped in the quilt her mother had given her on the day she married the Lord. Then one day, as if an answer to her prayers, her husband announced that he was leaving. In his absence he would allow her the keys to castle so that she might move about freely, but she was not, under any circumstances, to leave the castle. Hiding her excitement she took the keys and quickly readied her husband to leave. He questioned her haste, why did she want him gone so quickly? Momentarily flustered by the question she covered her hesitation with a couple of sniffles while she tried desperately to find a suitable answer. “My Lord, my dear husband the sooner you leave, the sooner you will be able to return to me. This is the reason for my haste.” She choked over the words, and was terrified he would not believe her, but he believed her fake emotion and promised to return within the month. The thump of his horse’s hooves on gravel faded away, keys in hand she dashed up the stairs to her room. She threw her clothing and shoes and most prized possessions into a satchel as quickly as possible. She wanted to get away. Satchel in hand she grabbed her quilt and ran for the castle stables. As she stepped out into the sunshine she paused, it was the first time she had felt the sun on her face in weeks. It was glorious. Once in the stable she clambered up onto the first horse she found, with an encouraging kick the horse flew over the stable gate and Anna galloped away from the castle down the same pathway her husband had left on less than an hour ago. She paused at the top of the hill and looked back at the castle, she realized now that all the riches in the world could not replace happiness or fill in for love. She rode blindly in the direction she prayed would take her home, but she soon became hopelessly lost. Scared, cold, and confused she stopped for the night to build a fire to keep away the beasts in the woods.
The old woman had begun to fall asleep as she told the story of her quilt’s past, her words slowed and her head began to bob towards her chest. Helping the old woman to her feet Aby accompanied her up the grand staircase and down the hallway to her room. Aby had just finished tucking the old woman in to her bed when she realized that she had forgotten the quilt downstairs. She knew the old woman would be panicked if she woke up and couldn’t find the quilt, so she quickly returned to the drawing room to grab it. It was the first time she had every touched the quilt and when it first touched her skin she felt a rush dance down her spine.
She was awoken by the sound of horses’ hooves pounding down the path towards her. Excitement surged through her as she was certain the stranger would be able to direct her in the right direction home. As the figures broke through the dense morning fog she recognized the form of her husband. Terrified, she grabbed only her quilt and once on her horse urged him into a breakneck gallop. But she was not quick enough. Her husband had seen and recognized her as well. With a bellow that shook the ground he took off after her. In his rage he didn’t pay attention to the terrain around him; as his horse jumped to clear a fallen log the Lord was thrown headfirst from the horse. He was thrown into a tree where he died instantly.
The next morning while eating breakfast together the old woman insisted that she finish her tale immediately. Aby argued that she had chores to do and errands to run, and they could finish the story tonight after dinner; but the old woman was persistent in her need to finish the story immediately. Aby gave in and after breakfast they both settled into the drawing room, and just like always the old woman sat with her quilt spread across her lap.
Anna inherited everything from her husband, his castle and his money, and two years later she married a landowner whom she had grown up with. They lived happily in the castle as Lord and Lady for the rest of their lives.
“And that, my dear, is the end of my tale. Now, help me up to my room. I’m exhausted a good nap is in order.” Aby helped the old woman up, and after tucking her into to bed with her quilt on top she quietly closed the door and went about her afternoon chores. Later, just before dinner Aby stood at the bottom of the stairs and shouted for the old woman to wake up and help her carry in the vegetables from the garden. Aby failed to get a testy remark from the old woman and she climbed the stairs dread filled her heart. In the bedroom Aby found the old woman had died peacefully in her sleep under her favorite quilt. Aby took care of all the memorial service details for the old woman’s son, and when he arrived at the house in the middle of the woods to pick Aby up for the service she recognized him immediately. He was the man she had been waiting for her entire life, and the old woman had known it. In her will she had stated that her beloved quilt as well as all her money was to be given to Abygaile Marsh on the day she married her son. The couple lived in the massive house in the middle of the woods for the rest of their lives; years later Abygaile Fairie was sitting in an aged armchair in the drawing room with her worn and dully colored quilt spread lovingly across her lap as the winter sun set in the woods. Her husband dozed quietly in the armchair opposite hers and a satisfied smile spread across her face as she thought about her life and her very own Fairie Tale.
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ReplyDeleteAby stood outside of the massive house in the middle of the woods and studied the dark windows and over grown yard in the fading afternoon sunlight. The house looked as if it hadn’t been occupied in years, this couldn’t be the right address. She turned to climb back into the taxi but it had already driven away, leaving her in the middle of nowhere with no way back to the city. She glanced at her phone, no service. She turned back to the old house just in time to see the curtains flutter in the upstairs window. Curious, she moved towards the front door, and her echoing knocks were followed by the screech of hinges as the door slowly creaked open.
ReplyDeleteStanding in the musty foyer was a frail old woman with suspicious eyes. “Who the hell are you? What do you want?” the woman croaked angrily. “Mrs. Fairie? My name is Abygaile Marsh, we spoke on the phone; your son hired me. Remember?” Aby urged gently. The old woman starred unblinking and un-acknowledging, and for the second time Aby was certain she was at the wrong address. Finally, after a long and very uncomfortable moment the old woman nodded and opened the door all the way. Without waiting for Aby to enter the old woman shuffled down the hallway and barked over her shoulder, “Close the door behind you. And take off your shoes; I won’t have you tracking mud throughout my home…” her voice trailed off to a faint mutter as she moved further away. Aby kicked off her shoes and followed the old woman down the long and silent hallway.
Still garbed in her best dress and cloak, the girl stood next to the fireplace trying to chase the chill of the winter wind from her bones; she knelt closer and held her hands out, occasionally she would bring them to her face to blow on them before shoving them back towards the warming flames. The girl’s mother came in carrying a warm quilt and hot tea. She walked stooped over and with a slight limp, as if the weight of the world was slowly pressing down on her. The girl took the blanket and tea and collapsed in the chair nearest the fire. She tucked her stocking clad feet under her and allowed her mother to begin undoing her hair. The two stayed in silence for a long while before the girl’s mother finally spoke. “My dear, Annabelle, did it go well?” her voice was quiet and her words seemed hollow, as if she didn’t have the energy to put forth in the conversation. The girl sighed and shook her head. It had not gone well; the Duke had not picked her. Rather he had picked a young girl, only 15, draped in a fabulously wealthy cream gown with luscious auburn ringlets that had cascaded down her back and framed her angelic face. Her mother forced a smile and patted the girl on the head, “It’s all right Anna. Perhaps the Duke’s uncle shall take a bride soon.” With another forced smile her mother patted her one more on the shoulder and limped out of the room. She had failed her family once again. She was not getting any younger, and with an aging father on his deathbed, a good marriage needed to be secured immediately. Before it was too late.
ReplyDeleteAby found the old woman sitting in an aged armchair near an empty fireplace gazing angrily out the window, across her frail lap lay a worn and dully colored quilt which at some point had probably been beautiful. The old woman caught Aby’s gaze and gestured at the quilt, “It belonged to my great-great-great-great-grandmother. It is passed from woman to woman on the day of her wedding. She gave it to my great-great-great-grandmother, who gave it to my great-great-grandmother, and soon until, in turn, my mother gave it to me. But I have no daughter, so someday if my son weds I will give it to his bride.” She starred at Aby a moment longer before returning her gaze to the window. Aby watched as the old woman’s gnarled hands lovingly stroked the quilt and a smile broke across her face. Aby was shocked at how the smile transformed the old woman’s face; the bitterness and anger was replaced by a sense of calm and beauty that Aby had rarely ever seen. Leaving the old woman alone with her quilt and memories Aby retreated from the room to explore the rest of the house, and following her curiosity she climbed the grand staircase. She wondered down the hallway looking in the open doors: a bedroom, a bathroom, a library, another bedroom, another bathroom, a sitting room. None of them were particularly interesting, yet each one was decorated lavishly. From somewhere below her she heard the old woman screech, “Girl? Girl, where did you go? Get back here. It’s almost dinnertime, come help me carry in the vegetables from the garden. Girl, do you hear me?” Aby sighed and released the doorknob and trotted down the hallway and back down the stairs to find the old woman.
ReplyDeleteWeeks had passed, the Duke’s uncle had still not announced plans to take a wife and her father was worse off than ever before, just this morning he had begun coughing up blood in his sleep. Seated near her father’s bed she had heard the doctor talking to her mother in hallway, he hadn’t much time left. When her father died his land debts would need to be re-paid and she would no longer have any dowry. It was hard enough, at 17, to find a man willing to marry her, it would be near impossible to find a man willing to marry a girl so old without a proper dowry. Without a husband she, her younger sister, and her mother would be left to starve and die in the gutters. A knocking on the doors jarred her out of her self-pity and had her flying down the stairs. Pausing just out of view of the doorway she patted down her hair and readjusted her faded skirt as she listened to the man announce himself to the kitchen servant who had answered the door. She swept gracefully around the corner with chin held high as the man announced that the Duke’s uncle would be taking his third wife within the month; all women of marriageable age were invited to attend the ball, during which he would pick his next wife. After dropping into a short curtsey, she accepted the invitation and with a small smile she retreated back into the house, and up to her father’s room. “This was it,” she told him. This was her last chance to marry into a family of wealth and power, and this time she would not fail. She refused to marry into a family of landowners and spend the rest of her life living as she had in the past. She would not turn out like her mother, stooped and exhausted by a life of strain. She would sweep the Lord off his feet and she would become a Lady. He took in one long and pained breath “Is it worth it?” her father questioned, “Is it worth giving up love for a life of riches?” She rose from his bedside and walked from the room without answering his question. She didn’t return to his room, she swore she would not go back until she was a Lady-to-be. She would prove to him that she could have both, love and riches.
ReplyDeleteWeeks had passed, Aby had been so busy, cleaning the old house, tending to the yard and garden, and keeping the old woman company; but despite the work Aby had grown fond of the cranky old woman, just as the old woman had grown fond of the bubbly girl her son had hired to live with and take care of her. The two had just finished dinner and were seated in the drawing room near the cold and empty fireplace where they enjoyed hours reading together before the old woman would retire to her room for the night. This night, as fall bled into winter, the drawing room was damp and chilly and Aby could see the chill made the old woman’s bones ache. Having remembered seeing chopped firewood out near the tool shed Aby excused herself from the room and went to fetch the wood for the fireplace. Upon her return moments later Aby found the old woman dozing in the armchair with the faded quilt pulled up to her chin. When the old woman awoke Aby had a blazing fire started and the air in the drawing room was warm and cheery.
ReplyDeleteOn the day of the ball Anna rose earlier than usual to ready herself for the occasion. Determined to be the one the Lord marries she spent hours preparing. Confident she would leave the ball betrothed, she had spent a small fortune (almost all her father had left) on a new gown. Dressed in a regal and compelling purple that complimented her tan skin and light hair she climbed into the carriage and the kitchen servant carted her away to the Lord’s castle. Upon her arrival she saw the Duke and his lovely young wife; she curtsied deeply and thanked them for the invitation. As the night wore on Anna danced with zest and pride with every man she could find, hoping that her liveliness would attract the needed attention from the Lord, the Duke, and his wife. More of an audition that a ball, Anna played her part perfectly and as the night began to near its end the Lord approached her and asked for a walk. It was the first time Anna had seen the Lord up close, and her first reaction was repulsion. The Lord was not an attractive man, he was cross-eyed and graying in the beard, no doubt he was almost as old as her father! She hid the reaction well and with a perfectly executed giggle she batted her eye lashes and accepted his offer. They walked the grounds of his castle and as the talked she began to grow fond of the lonely Lord, his temperament was kind and his actions respectable.
ReplyDeleteArriving home later that night she found her mother and younger sister, recently home from boarding school, wrapped in the quilt and crumpled in a dejected heap in front of the dying fire. Her father had died, and his question rung loudly in her head.
The old woman gazed out the window into the dark words and similar to the first day when Aby had first arrived at Mrs. Fairie’s home, the old woman gestured to the faded quilt. “My dear, would you like to hear a story? The tale about this quilt?” Confused by the old woman’s offer, Aby nodded her head and forced a smile to hide the worry she felt about the old woman’s health. Lately is had been declining swiftly, and the chill did nothing to help. The old woman folded her shaking hands on top of the quilt and began her tale.
ReplyDeleteA week later, on the day of her wedding, she sat in her father’s bedroom near the now empty bed. She knew she ought to be getting ready; today she would become a Lady and leave behind the world her father had provided her. She would repay his debts and her mother and sister would live richly as well. Throwing one last glance as the bed she spat out her answer, “Yes. It will be worth it.” She marched out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
ReplyDelete“This quilt has been passed down in my family for generations, each time as a wedding gift. My great-great-great-great-grandmother gave it to her eldest daughter on the day she married a British Lord and moved to a great castle far from home. He was a foul man, dirty and rude, but he charmed her and she married him out of a yearning for riches, not out of love. What started out as happiness slowly grew to desperation and anger. It was not a happy marriage.”
ReplyDeleteShe was happy for a while living with her husband in the large castle with the rich treasures filling every room. He kept her entertained with gifts and stories. And she lived, for the most part, carefree; she no longer needed to get up early to ride into the countryside and check on land and crops, she no longer was only allowed one bath a week, and as he husband had re-paid all her father’s debts she was no longer worried about her family. It was clear to her that marrying for riches was worth sacrificing love. But as the weeks dragged on and her husband’s temper grew worse and his demands more impossible she began to regret her decision and searched for ways to escape. Without the keys that her husband kept linked to his belt she was unable to leave the castle as the doors were all locked. Unable to leave, she would sulk in her room wrapped in the quilt her mother had given her on the day she married the Lord. Then one day, as if an answer to her prayers, her husband announced that he was leaving. In his absence he would allow her the keys to castle so that she might move about freely, but she was not, under any circumstances, to leave the castle. Hiding her excitement she took the keys and quickly readied her husband to leave. He questioned her haste, why did she want him gone so quickly? Momentarily flustered by the question she covered her hesitation with a couple of sniffles while she tried desperately to find a suitable answer. “My Lord, my dear husband the sooner you leave, the sooner you will be able to return to me. This is the reason for my haste.” She choked over the words, and was terrified he would not believe her, but he believed her fake emotion and promised to return within the month.
ReplyDeleteThe thump of his horse’s hooves on gravel faded away, keys in hand she dashed up the stairs to her room. She threw her clothing and shoes and most prized possessions into a satchel as quickly as possible. She wanted to get away. Satchel in hand she grabbed her quilt and ran for the castle stables. As she stepped out into the sunshine she paused, it was the first time she had felt the sun on her face in weeks. It was glorious. Once in the stable she clambered up onto the first horse she found, with an encouraging kick the horse flew over the stable gate and Anna galloped away from the castle down the same pathway her husband had left on less than an hour ago. She paused at the top of the hill and looked back at the castle, she realized now that all the riches in the world could not replace happiness or fill in for love. She rode blindly in the direction she prayed would take her home, but she soon became hopelessly lost. Scared, cold, and confused she stopped for the night to build a fire to keep away the beasts in the woods.
The old woman had begun to fall asleep as she told the story of her quilt’s past, her words slowed and her head began to bob towards her chest. Helping the old woman to her feet Aby accompanied her up the grand staircase and down the hallway to her room. Aby had just finished tucking the old woman in to her bed when she realized that she had forgotten the quilt downstairs. She knew the old woman would be panicked if she woke up and couldn’t find the quilt, so she quickly returned to the drawing room to grab it. It was the first time she had every touched the quilt and when it first touched her skin she felt a rush dance down her spine.
ReplyDeleteShe was awoken by the sound of horses’ hooves pounding down the path towards her. Excitement surged through her as she was certain the stranger would be able to direct her in the right direction home. As the figures broke through the dense morning fog she recognized the form of her husband. Terrified, she grabbed only her quilt and once on her horse urged him into a breakneck gallop. But she was not quick enough. Her husband had seen and recognized her as well. With a bellow that shook the ground he took off after her. In his rage he didn’t pay attention to the terrain around him; as his horse jumped to clear a fallen log the Lord was thrown headfirst from the horse. He was thrown into a tree where he died instantly.
ReplyDeleteThe next morning while eating breakfast together the old woman insisted that she finish her tale immediately. Aby argued that she had chores to do and errands to run, and they could finish the story tonight after dinner; but the old woman was persistent in her need to finish the story immediately. Aby gave in and after breakfast they both settled into the drawing room, and just like always the old woman sat with her quilt spread across her lap.
ReplyDeleteAnna inherited everything from her husband, his castle and his money, and two years later she married a landowner whom she had grown up with. They lived happily in the castle as Lord and Lady for the rest of their lives.
ReplyDelete“And that, my dear, is the end of my tale. Now, help me up to my room. I’m exhausted a good nap is in order.” Aby helped the old woman up, and after tucking her into to bed with her quilt on top she quietly closed the door and went about her afternoon chores. Later, just before dinner Aby stood at the bottom of the stairs and shouted for the old woman to wake up and help her carry in the vegetables from the garden. Aby failed to get a testy remark from the old woman and she climbed the stairs dread filled her heart. In the bedroom Aby found the old woman had died peacefully in her sleep under her favorite quilt.
ReplyDeleteAby took care of all the memorial service details for the old woman’s son, and when he arrived at the house in the middle of the woods to pick Aby up for the service she recognized him immediately. He was the man she had been waiting for her entire life, and the old woman had known it. In her will she had stated that her beloved quilt as well as all her money was to be given to Abygaile Marsh on the day she married her son.
The couple lived in the massive house in the middle of the woods for the rest of their lives; years later Abygaile Fairie was sitting in an aged armchair in the drawing room with her worn and dully colored quilt spread lovingly across her lap as the winter sun set in the woods. Her husband dozed quietly in the armchair opposite hers and a satisfied smile spread across her face as she thought about her life and her very own Fairie Tale.