The Amazing Adventure of Amanderella Gottsnobbler Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

A Match Made in Gold Buttons

However, Lord and Lady Gottsnobbler had other ideas. Ever anxious about their dwindling fortunes, they arranged what they thought was a splendid marriage. Peregrinaldo Throatcurdler was wealthy, owning estates with real roofs and a wardrobe that jingled with gold buttons. He was pompous, but polite, and he had the kind of moustache that seemed to announce itself before he entered a room.

To her parents, Peregrinaldo was the answer to every problem: money, status, and the promise of dinners served on silver trays once more. To Amanderella, he was simply another obstacle between her and exploration.

The evening of Peregrinaldo Throatcurdler’s arrival was announced with great fuss. Lord Gottsnobbler polished his nose as if it were a silver candlestick, and Lady Gottsnobbler patched her gown twice more, just in case the seams decided to betray her.

Then came the sound: a soft jingling, like coins falling from a purse. It grew louder, echoing down the cold hall. The doors swung open, and Peregrinaldo’s moustache appeared first, curling proudly like flags in the wind. A moment later, he walked in, his jacket sparkling with so many gold buttons that he made a clinking noise with each step.

“Good evening!” he boomed, bowing so deeply that his moustache nearly dipped into the soup tureen. The buttons on his waistcoat chimed together like a small orchestra.

Dinner was served—or at least, what passed for dinner at Gottsnobbler Hall. A thin soup, a loaf of bread with more holes than crust, and a pudding that looked suspiciously like yesterday’s porridge. Peregrinaldo did not seem to notice. He spoke at length about his estates, his hunting dogs, and his velvet waistcoats. Each time he gestured, his buttons jingled like sleigh bells.

Amanderella listened politely, though her pointed hat tilted further and further back as her patience thinned. She stirred her soup with a hat pin, imagining seventeen different ways she could silence his moustache if it twitched once more.

At one point, Peregrinaldo leaned forward, his moustache quivering like a pair of nervous hedgehogs. “And of course,” he said, “my stables are the finest in the county. Even my horses admire my moustache.”

Lord Gottsnobbler clapped his hands in delight. Lady Gottsnobbler dabbed her patched gown with pride. But Amanderella only smiled faintly, her compass hidden beneath the tablecloth. She was already charting a course far away from gold buttons, jingling waistcoats, and moustaches that announced themselves before their owner did.

Then, in an effort to impress, Peregrinaldo launched into what he called his “explorer’s tale.”

“Once,” he declared, moustache quivering like a couple of startled rabbits, “I ventured into the wilds of my orchard. There, I encountered a beast most fearsome. It had spots, sharp teeth, and a terrible roar!”

Amanderella raised an eyebrow. “A jaguar?” she asked politely.

“Precisely!” Peregrinaldo puffed out his chest. “Though some insisted it was only Mr. Gribbler’s cow. But I assure you, it was a jaguar in disguise. I chased it bravely until it cornered me by the gooseberry bushes. I fought it off with nothing but my moustache wax and a stern glare!”

Lord Gottsnobbler clapped his hands in delight. Lady Gottsnobbler dabbed her patched gown with pride.

Amanderella merely sniffed in disdain.

After Dinner, Lord and Lady Gottsnobbler retired to a waiting room, leaving their only daughter and Pererinaldo alone. Almost before they left the room Peregrinaldo went down on one knee. “My heart is smitten  with your beauty,” he declared, moustaches quivering with passion. “Amanderella,” he announced, puffing out his chest so far that his waistcoat squeaked, “I have decided to bestow upon you the greatest honour of your life.

“You see,” Peregrinaldo continued, “many young ladies would give their best bonnet for the chance to marry me. My estates have roofs, my wardrobes have gold buttons, and my moustache is admired in three counties. But I, Peregrinaldo Throatcurdler, have chosen you. Out of kindness. Out of generosity. Out of sheer goodness of heart!”

He bowed deeply, his moustache brushing the carpet. “Therefore, I propose that you become Mrs. Throatcurdler. You may thank me later.”

Listening at the door Lord Gottsnobbler clapped his hands until his nose squeaked. Lady Gottsnobbler dabbed her patched gown with tears of joy.

Amanderella, however, sat very still. She fiddled with a hat pin, imagining seventeen different ways to silence a moustache that presumed to do her favours. Then she lifted her chin higher and said, very calmly, ““Thank you, Peregrinaldo. But I have already chosen my future and it does not include you.”

His moustache drooped. He attempted to stand up, but the weight of his gold buttons made it difficult. Amanderella felt a little sorry for him and helped him to his feet.

Peregrinaldo blinked, his moustache twitching in disbelief. “Chosen your future?” he repeated, as though the words were a foreign language. He straightened, buttons jingling indignantly.

“My dear Amanderella, you must understand — adventures are for men with moustaches and money. I have both. You have neither. To refuse me is to refuse comfort, splendour, and the honour of being paraded beside the finest moustache in three counties!”

He puffed out his chest until his waistcoat squeaked. “Do you not see? I am offering you rescue. Rescue from draughty halls, patched gowns, and soup that tastes suspiciously of yesterday’s porridge. Without me, you will be left chasing imaginary monkeys in jungles that make explorers sneeze. With me, you will dine on pheasant, wear velvet, and polish gold buttons until your heart is content. Truly, I am doing you a favour.”

But Amanderella only lifted her chin higher. “Thank you, Peregrinaldo,” she said, her voice steady. “But I would rather chase imaginary monkeys than polish your buttons.”

And with that she turned on her heel and left the room.

Lord Gottsnobbler wrung his hands and tried to persuade the rather angry Peregrinaldo to stay and try again. Lady Gottsnobbler wept into a handkerchief and stood outside Amanderella’s bedroom door pleading with her to change her mind.

She was even more unhappy when she saw in the Newspaper the announcement of Peregrinaldo Throatcurdler to Lomey Duckchaser.

Amanderella said, “She must like polishing gold buttons.”