ENTITLED, anthony bridgerton

ten

ten
of letters

A night had passed, and Arabella sat on her bed, a letter in hand from her grandfather, a purple envelope. She took a deep breathe and opened the envelope, unravelling the paper she read out the words he had written.

My dearest Arabella,

I understand that you could not come to see me, although I do wish you were here I hope you debut is going well. As far as what your mother has told you, I am indeed ill, however the extent to my illness is rather unknown, however I have been notified by doctors that it may be considered terminal, I do not know how much time I have left but I know you must not fret. I know I will see you before I pass, do not rush to get here, I feel well even if my body says otherwise. I do hope I see you soon however, I have a gift for you.

Your mother and father are doing well. How have your ventures been? Are you to get married? Your mother has not shared any details regarding any of that.

I am situated in the west wing, not your favourite room of the house, because that is yours but I have been put on bed rest in the room above it, small but beautiful. You once said the sunlight as the most beautiful through the stain glass of the windows and indeed you were right, my girl. The grass is more lavish since you were last here and I have converted the downstairs east wing room, the largest one into a library filled with your favourite books, I wish for you to see it.

I hope you come soon,

Love your grandfather,

Earl Jacobs.

A tear shed from her eyes, her grandfather was dying, the only man who had ever given her the time of day. He loved her more than her mother did and he was leaving this earth and even on his death bed he thought of her and moved in sickness to see the beauty Arabella once saw.

It was late at night, perhaps past midnight, the silence signified the slumber of each member in the household. The hall was dim so she lit a lamp and put on a loose jacket. With the lamp in one hand and the letter in the other, Arabella walked down the hallway and stepped down the stairs and headed to the kitchen. She placed the lamp down and the letter next to it and opened the cupboard for some food. She filled up a glass cup with some water and sat on the stools of the kitchen, behind the wooden island situated in the middle of the space. She slouched and slowly drank the water and gripped the letter in her left hand. 

"Arabella?" came a voice from behind her, she let out a small scream and turned around quickly with a small jump.

"Oh gosh," she said placing a hand to her chest, controlling her breathing. Her dress had slipped lower, and it revealed a bit of cleavage, Anthony's eyes moved down to her cleavage and cleared his throat with small cough, he rubbed the palm of his hand against his thigh to calm himself down.

"Why are you awake?" He asked, walking over to collect a bottle of milk and turning toward the stove, unsure of what to do.

"I got a letter from my grandfather, reading it took a fair amount of effort" she said looking at the back of his head, he leaned against the island, perpendicular to where the girl sat.

"Not good news, I gather?" He asked, with a sympathetic smile, turning around to face the young girl.

"No," she said with a small frown.

Anthony stayed silent before shifting his eyes to the stove in front of him. He was capable of doing many things, but heating milk was not amongst them, "Do you have any idea how to make this work?"