Freedom Bound - Part Four

Previously…  In the early morning, Abigail ran away from the palace, only to have her plan foiled by Andrew, a man she met along the way. As Andrew convinced her to visit with him and meet his family, Abigail began to make friends and learn of a life so different from her own.

When Abigail rose the next morning, Andrew was nowhere in sight. Although she wondered where he had gone, she took advantage of her solitude to check on her horse.

“Well, Sky, what do you think?” she said, absentmindedly stroking the horse. “I’m sure my parents have palace guards searching everywhere. We should leave so that I don’t cause trouble to Andrew.” Abigail paused, looking at her beautiful horse before she whispered, “But I do not want to.”

Abigail returned to the house and found Andrew in the kitchen.

“There you are,” he said, “I thought you had left again.”

Abigail shook her head, wondering whether she truly heard a note of relief in his voice. “You still have to teach me to make good bread.”

Andrew smiled as he motioned her into the kitchen. Bread making took a long time and involved more hands-on work than Abigail had anticipated. Andrew gladly led her through the process of mixing ingredients and then left the dough to rise.

Abigail smiled awkwardly. “Andrew, you should know, this is most unusual.” When Andrew replied only by raising a brow, Abigail continued, “Not just because I’m the princess, but because I am a woman and you’re a man and we’re not… not married, or related in any way.”

A smile spread on Andrew’s face as she stammered. “I know. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Well, if they find out at the palace that I stayed with you overnight, we should both be worried,” said Abigail solemnly.

“I think you worry too much over what others think,” Andrew told her, as he began to clean his kitchen. “Which, perhaps, is understandable, having been born under the public eye and taught to have your first interest in what is good for the kingdom rather than yourself.” He stopped and looked her in the eye. “Assuming that you are a well-taught princess, which you seem to be.”

“I ran away from my duty,” Abigail admitted, “I don’t see how that’s well taught. Actually, I think I have failed as princess.”

Andrew heard a sadness in her voice that was not there before and it made him feel some of that sadness. “What makes you say that?” he asked, masking any emotion.

Abigail shrugged. “A good princess would not run away.”

“It doesn’t make you a failure, Abbey,” Andrew assured her, “Only human. We all make mistakes. It’s what we learn from them that is important.”

“I suppose so,” Abigail mumbled.

She watched Andrew while his gaze was turned away from hers. He had strong, masculine features that now held an inscrutable expression. His dark hair was swept away from his forehead, with the exception of a few rebellious strands that fell down to touch his eyebrow.

While the bread making lesson continued, Abigail had time to wonder about Andrew: about his family, his upbringing, the thoughts behind those brown eyes. Too timid to ask, she kept her thoughts quiet as she followed his instructions. While the bread was rising by the stove, Andrew took Abigail to his newly planted vegetable garden in the yard behind the house. He showed her what he had planted and had yet to plant as the weather allowed it.

“I am working on effective treatments for scarlet fever,” he shared. He was in the process of testing different herbs for their healing properties.

“You have an interest in medicine?” returned Abbey.

Andrew’s shoulder lifted in a shrug. “A small interest.”

“That would be why you have so many dried herbs and spices in the cupboards,” stated Abigail.

Andrew smiled. “Well yes, and they do make more flavourful meals.”

Abigail returned the smile. While they were outside, Andrew allowed Abigail to have a look in his wood shop. The wood shop was a small building separate from the house, the two divided by the yard and the garden. In the shop, he had unfinished projects that looked to Abbey like they may become pieces of furniture as fine as the ones in his own house. Breathing in the sawdust smell of the shop, she realized that it was just the way Andrew smelled when they had ridden her horse to his house the day before. Andrew’s eyes lit up as he talked about his projects, and Abigail found herself smiling and engaging in his every word.

It was some time before the dough was ready for the oven, and more time still before the loaf was ready to come out and the whole house smelled of freshly baked bread. As Abbey pulled it out of the oven and placed it on the stove top, Andrew stepped closer, his eyes on the little loaf.

“That looks good. When it cools a little, we can taste it.”

“Where did you learn to make bread like this?” asked Abbey curiously.

Andrew’s smile faded as his eyes met hers. “I was taught by a very good baker.”

Abigail nodded. “Madelyn?” she guessed.

“She does cook well, but no,” he replied. His features clouded over as he continued quietly, “My wife.” Abigail did not hide her surprised confusion. She had no chance to respond as Andrew explained. “She died two years ago… from scarlet fever. She was never very strong.”

Andrew turned away from her and Abigail felt tears come to her eyes as she suddenly saw him in a much different light. “Andrew, I’m sorry.”

Andrew nodded, still facing away from her. Abbey placed a hand on his shoulder and patted it in an awkward, but friendly manner. Andrew glanced from her hand to her face.

“She would have liked you,” he told her.

Abigail smiled slightly. “What was her name?”

“Rachel,” he shared, “We were both young when I first met her. She was delicate and beautiful… like a butterfly. She enjoyed simple things.” He paused, swiping a knuckle under his eye. “Excuse me.”

Abigail watched him and found no words to say. For all her schooling in proper etiquette, none of the consoling phrases she knew seemed appropriate here. She had no time to respond as there was knock at the door. The two exchanged glances.

“Go hide,” said Andrew in a low voice.

Abbey hurried away as Andrew approached the door, and hid in a closet under the stairs. It had just enough room for her to squeeze in and close the door. She could not see in the darkness of the closed closet, but she listened carefully as Andrew opened the front door. She heard muffled voices before the closet door was opened and Andrew stood before her. Behind him were his niece and nephews.

“The children wish to know if you can come out and play,” he said, a comical light in his eyes.

Abigail laughed as she stepped out of the small closet. An afternoon with Andrew’s little niece and nephews was enough to temporarily distract Abbey from her conversation with Andrew. She entertained the children and played their games until they returned home for dinner. As the children left, Abigail took her blue cape and stole away to her horse. She could hear noises coming from Andrew’s wood shop, where he had gone earlier. Looking briefly around her, Abbey mounted Sky and urged him forward.

“This is too dangerous,” she spoke to the horse as she rode, “Too dangerous for everyone. I should not have let him convince me to stay. What will they think now?”

Abigail’s only response was the clop of the horse’s hooves on the ground and the ambiance of the little village she was leaving. She rode on, away from the direction of the palace. She avoided the road and likewise the lake which she had been told was dangerous. She did not look back.

Abigail only stopped when she had gone deep into the forest and found a small grassy meadow where Sky could have a little rest. She could not ride on, distracted as she was. She dismounted and let Sky wander as she stood in the middle of the meadow. She looked all around her, seeing and hearing no one. With a sigh, she reached into the pocket of her cape and pulled out a shining diamond ring. As she watched the ring sparkle in the sunlight, she recalled the feeling of it being placed on her finger by a trembling hand. She remembered being surprised by the flutter in her stomach at that moment, in spite of the confusion in her mind. She could still see the leaves on the ground under the tree on that warm fall day. As she looked into the clear sparkles of the pretty ring, she thought on Andrew and his deceased wife and her vision blurred with tears.

Quickly, Abigail put the ring away in her pocket. Oh, Lord, what am I to do? The prayer escaped her thoughts before she knew it, as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She remained silent, waiting for an answer. She was quiet and still for some time, hearing birds in the distance and the leaves of the trees around her rustling as they swayed in the breeze. Sky was grazing close by. She sighed again, this time as she saw the sun was far in the west and knew it was going to set soon. And as Abigail looked toward the sunset, she saw a group of men in the trees in the distance. They did not look like palace guards, judging by their simple garb.

Abigail pulled her hood over her head and approached her horse. She spoke softly to the horse, patting his nose. “I am sorry, Sky, but we must keep moving.”

Abigail mounted the horse and nudged his sides with her heels. Those men were approaching quicker than she thought and she was determined to remain anonymous. Without any ado, and without looking back, Abigail rode away.

Read Freedom Bound Part Three Here. Read Part Five Here.