"James--" she paused, squinting.
Today, Anne decided she would not give him the satisfaction. She brushed her gloves together, crumbs of rich soil clinging stubbornly to the leather.
Anne sighed and swatted the remaining dirt off her gloves and onto her skirt. She knew the servants would shake their heads at such a thing, but she needed a moment to think. Reaching up, she tilted her hat very subtly and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"James," she began again, more softly, "I know what made my father so ill."
"I know it was oleander in father's cake. And I know you were the one who did it." She held up a hand to signal he should keep his mouth shut.
It still gaped open in surprise.
"It occurs to me that having the two of you living under the same roof may not be a wise idea. You are far too eager for my inheritance, and my father is far too eager for me to be free of--well, of you." She tugged off one glove, finger by finger. "It all seems quite inevitable, really. Had you not tried to kill him first, surely he would have tried to murder you--accidents are far too common on plantations." Her gaze flickered to him, a silent, yet pointed threat.
He grated the words out from between his teeth: "So what do we do now, Annie?"
"Well, as I am your wife and ill-suited to plantation living and the normal standards of local society, I think--" she paused. "Do you smell smoke?"
He pulled back, looking at her as if she'd finally gone utterly insane.
"Annie?" he asked. "Are you ill?"
"No," she replied, straightening. She felt cold. She licked her lips. She would need to get the visions under control if she was going to make this work. "James?"
He moved towards her, the heat of his body so close made a fine sweat bead around her temples. "Where shall I take you, Annie?" he asked, eyes sparkling.
Anne found herself thanking God that James' ego was so predictable. So where could they go that he'd be no more threat to her father? Where could she clean up the mess of this marriage she'd been so eager to create? She smiled up into his eyes, curling into his arms and whispered the answer. "Take me pirating."
Okay, so it doesn't spend as much time as I wanted to on the snippets of visions that have been causing Anne to falter, but it's something. And it feels good to try a SS prompt again, too. :-)
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