Post by narumei on Mar 12, 2008 3:37:33 GMT -5
Abigail replied with equal sadness. Then she started laughing again. She couldn’t move much but she moved against the crates, the harsh wood cutting into her bare arms. She laughed and laughed until tears ran down her cheeks. Lucas looked at her with a blank look for a moment. Then he smiled. “Why I am I still under here?” she asked. “We’ve been talking for at least ten minutes and I haven’t moved an inch. This is ridiculous.” she laughed harder.
“Well I did try to help you, but you didn’t seem to need it. Or want it.” he added.
“I want to see if I can do this myself. I’m sure I’ll be able to.” She said. “But stay, won’t you? Just in case?” she added, sounding like a child.
“Of course I’ll stay. For as long as you want.” Abigail felt a blush spread across her cheeks. She cleared her throat pointedly and focused her mind. She was jammed between two crates in particular, one leaning on her chest and the other lodged against the first crate and her feet. If that were all it was, she thought she’d be able to get out, but as there was another at least five crates adding to the weight, it was more difficult. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to do it with him there.
“Turn around.” she said.
“What? Why?” he asked back.
“Well, what if my skirt goes up or something?” she managed, a blush rising to her cheeks. He rolled his eyes and turned around. She closed her eyes in concentration and brought the white void that was her imagination up around her. As she was in such a complicated pile, she needed to let go of everything that wasn’t her and the crates. She looked up, surrounded by white, at the crates. She assessed their position and then hers in comparison. First she raised her right hip, just to elevate the crates a little. She strained with the effort, but the crates weighed less than she thought. She was surprised as she had just spent the last ten minutes being a direct evaluator of their weight. Once her hip had raised the crates far enough, she maneuvered her arm so it was free from the crates. She wiggled it around, savoring the freedom of the movement she didn’t realize she was missing. Abigail smiled at the small accomplishment. She brought her arm back under the crates, keeping her hip up so she could position her arm properly. She held her arm under the crates, bent, ready to push, her hand inches from her face. She did the same with her left hip, having a considerable amount more trouble than with her right. She positioned her arm symmetrically to her right. Then she braced herself against the weight with her hands. Abigail gave a long sigh then sucked in as much air as she could. Clenching her teeth, she pushed at the crates hard. Something in her arm burst with pain and she yelped, still holding the crates. All of a sudden the crates were lifted off her and a strong hand grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up. The whiteness vanished in an instant and reality burned back to life in her eyes. The sun was directly in front of her as her eyes focused back into the real world, but the warm yellow ball paled in comparison to her secret white world.
“Abigail?! Abigail, are you ok?” the voice echoed in her head. The one down side to her white escape was the time it took for her to snap back into the real world. She clutched her arm, rubbing the spot where she’d hurt it. Instead of waiting for her to reply, he spoke again when he saw awareness crystallize in her deep eyes. “For God’s sake, Abigail! Why didn’t you just let me help?” he yelled, genuinely angry.
“I had it under control! Why did you interrupt?” She yelled back, just as angry.
“You didn’t have it under control! You were struggling! If I hadn’t helped, then God’s knows what would have happened!” he yelled. He started to turn away but noticed that she was holding her arm. “What happened?” he asked, calmly.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” she said, turning around. Her eyes blazed blue fire and her cheeks a sharp red from embarrassment.
“Abigail, wait.” He grabbed her shoulder. She twirled around, not so much angry but surprised at the impertinence. Obviously he knew who she was and knew what wealth she came from. For someone like him, who was clearly neither a teacher nor butler, to touch her, was offensive by society’s standards. He was polite enough but she wouldn’t forget that he left her under a stack of crates for almost fifteen minutes. And that he tried to shake her hand while she was under them. She rolled her eyes at the scene as it flashed through her mind. How ridiculous. “Please,” he said, to her back. It was the please that stopped her. If he had said anything else, she knew she would have moved on back towards the house. She turned slowly. No one had ever requested that she stay. No one had said please to her, unless they wanted a favor. Her mother certainly hadn’t and her father only said it when she was misbehaving.
“What?” she asked, still slowly.
“Stay, won’t you?” he said. He seemed to be having difficulty talking, and he had his hands wrapped in front of him, slightly tugging at his own shirt front. He was clearly nervous.
“Why?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. He didn’t answer, just looked at her. His eyes were sparkling, showing her that he was happy, but they had something else in them. Abigail squared her shoulders and looked at Lucas straight on. She stared deep into his eyes, searching for the piece of him that she couldn’t figure out. She saw dark spots in his eyes, revealing what he was hiding. He stared back at her, straightening up to his full height. His mouth twitched slightly and she gasped. The darks spots in his eyes, and the secret he hid was despair. A deeper despair than she had ever known, deeper than anything she had even heard of.
Lucas couldn’t believe how knowing Abigail’s eyes were. They seemed to gaze into his very soul and tear secrets from him that he didn’t even know he kept but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. He didn’t understand it at all. No one he knew had this effect on him. He was hypnotized by the vivid blue that made Abigail, Abigail. He saw the innocence in his eyes and the guilt he had felt for weeks welled back up inside him. She mustn’t know the truth. He saw as her eyes penetrated deeper within him and he felt himself losing control of his ability to keep secrets. Although it was difficult, he tore his gaze off of Abigail, and turned away.
“Lucas?” she asked carefully.
“What?” he snapped harshly, still not looking at Abigail. She was furious at him and herself. She shouldn’t have let herself go so deep into his feeling, shouldn’t have questioned the sadness in his eyes.
“What’s the matter? Why are you so upset?” She knew it was wrong to ask, but her curiosity got the better of her.
“Nothing. Why would something be the matter?” he put to her, finally turning around.
“Your eyes –” she started, but thought the better of it, instead she said, “why did you want me to stay?”
“Well, there’s nothing really for me to do at the moment.” He shrugged. “I just needed company. But you can go if you want.” he said, not caring. She turned to go. “But,” he started, she turned back, “I would prefer it if you did stay. Please?” She smiled at him and walked over.
“Teach me how to fight.” she said. It wasn’t a request, but an order. He laughed outright at that, but stopped suddenly when she raised a dangerous eyebrow.
“What? You can’t be serious.” he said, looking at her intently, searching for the joke. “Oh Christ, you are.” he sighed. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but there’s a little difference between us. Do you know what it is?” he asked.
“Um…I don’t know. Tell me.” she said.
“You’re female. I’m male. You didn’t notice?” he said incredulously. She blushed and said quickly,
“Of course I noticed.” He grinned wolfishly, misinterpreting her hasty reply. “But I don’t see how that makes a difference. I’m just as capable as you are.” she said proudly. He snorted in disbelief.
“You think you can fight as I can?” he asked.
“Well not right now of course. I need you to teach me. But I know that if you teach me, I’ll be as good as you. Maybe better.” she added, as an afterthought. He raised his eyebrows.
“Well, if I said yes…” he started, but seeing the triumphant grin spreading across her face, he panicked and quickly continued. “if! If! I said if. Anyway, if I said yes, you’d need to make it worth my while. I mean, that’s my free time, I don’t get much.”
“You got plenty of time off today.” she pointed out. He looked up quickly.
“No, no, no, no. Not on Saturdays. Saturday is my only day off.” he argued, throwing his hands in front of himself as if to guard her attack.
“Mine too!” she argued. He looked heavenward, as though praying for strength.
“Abigail. This is ridiculous. I could get fired! Or worse. You aren’t allowed to wield a sword. You’re a girl!” Abigail sighed with helplessness. She threw her hands up in exasperation and then whirled around to face him.
“Fine. But I will learn to fight.” she said with sudden vehemence, eyes glittering dangerously. “And I will prove to you that I can be as good as you. Just watch.” she ended. He looked curiously at her face. The smile tugging at her lips was one of triumph, not hope, nor failure. He was perplexed, and decided to proceed with Abigail with caution.
“I’m sure you will.” he said, hoping to calm her. “What happened to your arm?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I just felt a really sharp pain. That’s why I cried out. I’m perfectly able to control pain, I just needed more time,” she said, annoyed, still gripping her arm.
“Take your hand away,” he said, “let me see.” She reluctantly took her hand away, knowing what he would find there. His eyes widened in shock and he gasped.
“Abigail! Doesn’t it hurt?” he asked. There was a deep cut on Abigail’s arm, just below the sleeve of the blue dress. When she lifted the crates, the end of the third one fell back and slid along her arm, cutting her deeply. The crimson blood started to slowly trickle down her arm. He looked at her hand and saw that it, too, was covered in blood. “Shit, Abigail, why didn’t you let me help you?”
“Don’t swear! It isn’t polite.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Besides, I can hardly feel it. What about you?” she laughed. “You’re bleeding in almost the exact same spot as I am!” He looked down at his arm, where he had cut it. He realized that his cut was indeed very near to the same spot as Abigail’s, it was even on the same arm. He laughed.
“Here, take this,” he passed her a dirty looking handkerchief from his trouser pockets. She stared at in uncertainly. “Oh, they are just dirt stains for Heaven’s Sake. I assure you it’s perfectly clean.” She took it with a weak smile of thanks and held it up against her arm. Some of the blood had soaked into the dress. Abigail looked at it with dismay. Catching the look, Lucas said, “It’s only a dress.”
“My best friend gave me this dress!” she argued.
“That explains it then,” he told her. As no further explanation seemed forthcoming, Abigail asked testily,
“It explains what?”
“Nothing, don’t worry,” he said. She sighed and lifted the cloth from her arm, “keep the pressure on it!” he barked. Abigail glared at him fiercely, but put the cloth back on her arm none the less. “Wait here,” he told her, then disappeared back into the tiltyard. He came out moments later holding a damp white cloth, which he gave to Abigail. She looked at him questioningly, holding her arm at an awkward position in her attempt to hold the handkerchief, the wet cloth and her cut at the same time. “Use it to wipe your hand and your arm. You have a lot of dry blood on you.” She smiled gratefully and proceeded to do so.
“Have you seen the grounds?” he asked, looking over the field.
“No. And I don’t really care about it. What is there here that’s interesting?” she asked, rudely looking the same direction as he was.
“Do you still like horse-riding?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.
“Yes.” she said slowly. “How did you know that I liked horse-riding?” her suspicion rising again.
“You seem like the type of girl who would. That’s all.” he said, his laughter returning, and making his eyes gleam. She smiled nervously back at him. “So want to go with me?” he asked.
“Where?” she said.
“To the stables, of course.” He reached for her hand but she yanked it away.
“I can walk by myself.” she said, walking ahead of him stormily. He stood and waited for realization to dawn on her, a smirk on his face. She stopped suddenly and turned around. “Which way?” she asked feebly. He laughed outright and clutched his sides, bending over double with laughter. She sighed gustily and blew a strand of loose hair out of her face. “It really isn’t that funny.” She said tiredly. He just laughed harder in response. When his laughter finally died down he said,
“It’s nice to re-meet you, Abigail Bryan,” he said. She rolled her eyes.
“One day, Mr Lucas, you are going to tell me how you know me. And where I’ve met you before.”
“If you say so,” he replied, and walked in the opposite direction of the house. She grudgingly followed him, unwilling to admit that she wanted to follow him very very badly. The temptation of being near horses was almost more than she could stand. They walked for about twenty minutes before Abigail stopped suddenly, both hands flying to her cheeks. Lucas sped to her and with a worried look on his face asked,
“Abigail? Abigail what’s wrong?”
“I left Grace by herself!” she realized. “I must go back.”
“Do you mean the girl that was by the house? With brown hair and the pink dress?” he asked.
“Yes that’s her! Did you see her?” Abigail asked, nervously.
“Yes, she went back towards the house while you were under the crates, talking to me. Is she your friend?” he asked.
“Yes, well, I only really met her yesterday. But we became fast friends, she’s ever so lovely.” Abigail said, smiling brightly. Lucas smiled back and continued on to the stables. Abigail ran up next to him.
“So, Mr Lucas, do you have a last name?” she asked, looking up at him. She hadn’t really noticed how tall he was, but standing next to him now she saw that he was a good head and a half higher than her.
“Um, yes, it’s Jacobs.” he said. “Not quite as well known as Bryan. Or Bristol for that matter, but its good enough. Don’t you agree, Abigail?”
“Mr Jacobs…” she said contemplative. “Yes it suits you quite well. But you are a stranger to me and you must call me Miss Abigail.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Well. Because, that is what you do. It isn’t proper for men to call girls by their first name only an hour into their acquaintance,” she said, flustered.
“Proper? And I suppose hiding in trees from Lady Maxine is proper? And sword fighting in the halls of your house?” he said, wryly. She stared at him in open mouthed shock. She couldn’t string her thoughts together, let alone compose an entire sentence. He laughed and reached over to her. He touched her chin and pushed it up, back into place. “It isn’t proper for young ladies to leave their mouths hanging open either,” he laughed.
“Who are you?? Why won’t you tell me?” she spluttered.
“Because I’m no-one important. Do not worry yourself, Abigail.”
“MISS!” she spat at him. He laughed again. “Don’t you ever stop laughing?” she asked him.
“Not really, why would I not laugh when there is so much to laugh about?” he said back,
“I think you’re mad. What is so funny that you must constantly laugh?”
“Ah, well, Abigail, laughing doesn’t always mean something is funny. You can laugh just because you are happy.” And, not to Abigail’s surprise, he laughed again.
“Why are you always so happy?” she asked.
“Because I have nothing to be sad about.” He said, turning solemn. Abigail rolled her eyes at him, but as his words echoed in her head, she turned contemplative. She walked the rest of the way in silence, only looking up when they reached the stables.
“Do the girls walk all this way? Just to go horse-riding?” she asked, astonished.
“Of course not. The few that do ride take carriages up here. The classes aren’t any bigger than about ten girls for horse-riding at a time.” he said. He led her into the stables, through huge double doors that went so high they blocked out the sun. Abigail couldn’t believe that she hadn’t noticed it before. She turned back to see the main house, and found that it was only a tiny little thing in the distance. She hadn’t realized how far she had walked with Lucas. As they walked through the stables, horses came up to their stable gates to investigate the newcomers. They snorted over the wooden doors and rolled their eyes at Abigail and Lucas. There were about twenty horses in total, if not more. Each had their name on a special plate on their stable. The room smelt of hay and fur and a number of other unpleasant things. Abigail wrinkled her nose but smiled. She loved horses and being around them calmed her nerves. She walked to a horse whose name plate bared the name William. He was a grey with a dusting of black around his ankles and shoulders. He looked to be around fifteen hands tall but very strong. His flanks were powerful as were his ankles.
“Here,” Lucas held out his hand and presented Abigail with a shining red apple. Abigail looked from the apple to Lucas questioningly. “For the horse,” he explained. She laughed at herself at took the apple. Holding it out to William, she gently clicked her tongue and whispered to William. He came to her easily, first sniffing the apple, and then eating it in one bite. Abigail laughed gently and stroked William’s long nose.
“Do you want to ride him?” Lucas asked. Abigail spun around and stared at Lucas.
“Really? Won’t you get in trouble?” she asked.
“No, not if we don’t get caught. But don’t tell anyone ok?” he pleaded. Abigail beamed at him, happier than she had been in days. All of a sudden, her face fell. “What is it?” he asked
“I can’t ride in a dress.” She turned back to William, letting him nuzzle at her hand, searching for another apple. Lucas smile faded, but came back so suddenly that Abigail was startled. “What?”
“Wait here,” he said. He ran into a room around the side of William’s stable and came out again shortly after holding a pile of clothing. Abigail smiled and went through the clothes. “We don’t have sizes that would fit you, so it might be a little big. You can change in that room,” he said.
“Thank you. Lucas, thank you so much.” Abigail ran into the room and came out almost as soon as Lucas had before. In her eagerness she had ripped off only the dress and the white slip, leaving everything else on underneath. She was wearing dark blue pants that reached halfway down her shins. Usually tight on men, the pants were loose and slipping on Abigail. She had also donned the white shirt that Lucas gave her. She tied up her hair with the black ribbon that she kept with her. There were a few strands that framed her face that she had missed. She came out nervously, never having dressed in men’s clothing other than in front of her own maids and family. Lucas had tacked up William and another horse while she had been changing. He looked her up and down, then looked away again angrily. Christ’s Sake, she looked better in men’s clothing then he did. She didn’t notice the scowl on his face and instead rushed over to William. He pulled his head up in surprise, almost pulling the reins out of Lucas’s hand. She shushed him calmly, reaching for his shoulders, stroking him lightly. The doors were still open and instead of waiting for Lucas to get ready, she jumped from the ground and twisted herself up onto the horse, riding off as fast as she could manage out of the doors and onto the grass. The moment that she hit the field she nudged William faster, racing off in the opposite direction to the main house. She faintly heard Lucas shouting behind her, but ignored him and lost herself to the freedom of the mount. She rode and rode, not slowing down. She could hear William panting heavily underneath her but she knew that he was enjoying the ride as much as she was. She knew instinctively from the type of horses that were in the stables and the way William moved that the other girls didn’t ride like she did. Trotting and dressage were probably about the only things that they did. Eventually she arrived at the fence at the end. She pulled sharply on the reins and brought William to a standstill at the fence. Behind it was rolling hills and acres and acres of unused property. Abigail stared at the hills, lost in the beauty. A flock of birds suddenly flew out of the tree behind the fence, and Lucas pulled up next to her, panting loudly.
“Abigail!” he yelled at her.
“What?” she asked back, her face the picture of innocence. He glared at her as angrily as he could manage before he burst out laughing. She laughed with him. “Race you around that far tree,” she started, pointing, “and back to the stables.” He nodded assent. “One, two, three, GO!!” she yelled, kicking William into a fierce canter towards the trees. She heard Lucas come up next to her. Looking around her, Abigail assessed her position and speed in comparison to Lucas’s. From there she slowed William for the turn around the tree. Lucas was going too fast and would have to take the turn much wider, expecting her to do the same therefore gaining the upper hand on Abigail. On the tight turn around the tree, William reared and jumped up, giving him and Abigail an extra burst of speed. She sped off towards the stables, Lucas hardly being able to keep up with her. She turned in her seat and looked back at Lucas struggling to speed up. She threw her head back and laughed, her light voice ringing through the field with her genuine laughter.
“Well I did try to help you, but you didn’t seem to need it. Or want it.” he added.
“I want to see if I can do this myself. I’m sure I’ll be able to.” She said. “But stay, won’t you? Just in case?” she added, sounding like a child.
“Of course I’ll stay. For as long as you want.” Abigail felt a blush spread across her cheeks. She cleared her throat pointedly and focused her mind. She was jammed between two crates in particular, one leaning on her chest and the other lodged against the first crate and her feet. If that were all it was, she thought she’d be able to get out, but as there was another at least five crates adding to the weight, it was more difficult. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to do it with him there.
“Turn around.” she said.
“What? Why?” he asked back.
“Well, what if my skirt goes up or something?” she managed, a blush rising to her cheeks. He rolled his eyes and turned around. She closed her eyes in concentration and brought the white void that was her imagination up around her. As she was in such a complicated pile, she needed to let go of everything that wasn’t her and the crates. She looked up, surrounded by white, at the crates. She assessed their position and then hers in comparison. First she raised her right hip, just to elevate the crates a little. She strained with the effort, but the crates weighed less than she thought. She was surprised as she had just spent the last ten minutes being a direct evaluator of their weight. Once her hip had raised the crates far enough, she maneuvered her arm so it was free from the crates. She wiggled it around, savoring the freedom of the movement she didn’t realize she was missing. Abigail smiled at the small accomplishment. She brought her arm back under the crates, keeping her hip up so she could position her arm properly. She held her arm under the crates, bent, ready to push, her hand inches from her face. She did the same with her left hip, having a considerable amount more trouble than with her right. She positioned her arm symmetrically to her right. Then she braced herself against the weight with her hands. Abigail gave a long sigh then sucked in as much air as she could. Clenching her teeth, she pushed at the crates hard. Something in her arm burst with pain and she yelped, still holding the crates. All of a sudden the crates were lifted off her and a strong hand grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up. The whiteness vanished in an instant and reality burned back to life in her eyes. The sun was directly in front of her as her eyes focused back into the real world, but the warm yellow ball paled in comparison to her secret white world.
“Abigail?! Abigail, are you ok?” the voice echoed in her head. The one down side to her white escape was the time it took for her to snap back into the real world. She clutched her arm, rubbing the spot where she’d hurt it. Instead of waiting for her to reply, he spoke again when he saw awareness crystallize in her deep eyes. “For God’s sake, Abigail! Why didn’t you just let me help?” he yelled, genuinely angry.
“I had it under control! Why did you interrupt?” She yelled back, just as angry.
“You didn’t have it under control! You were struggling! If I hadn’t helped, then God’s knows what would have happened!” he yelled. He started to turn away but noticed that she was holding her arm. “What happened?” he asked, calmly.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” she said, turning around. Her eyes blazed blue fire and her cheeks a sharp red from embarrassment.
“Abigail, wait.” He grabbed her shoulder. She twirled around, not so much angry but surprised at the impertinence. Obviously he knew who she was and knew what wealth she came from. For someone like him, who was clearly neither a teacher nor butler, to touch her, was offensive by society’s standards. He was polite enough but she wouldn’t forget that he left her under a stack of crates for almost fifteen minutes. And that he tried to shake her hand while she was under them. She rolled her eyes at the scene as it flashed through her mind. How ridiculous. “Please,” he said, to her back. It was the please that stopped her. If he had said anything else, she knew she would have moved on back towards the house. She turned slowly. No one had ever requested that she stay. No one had said please to her, unless they wanted a favor. Her mother certainly hadn’t and her father only said it when she was misbehaving.
“What?” she asked, still slowly.
“Stay, won’t you?” he said. He seemed to be having difficulty talking, and he had his hands wrapped in front of him, slightly tugging at his own shirt front. He was clearly nervous.
“Why?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. He didn’t answer, just looked at her. His eyes were sparkling, showing her that he was happy, but they had something else in them. Abigail squared her shoulders and looked at Lucas straight on. She stared deep into his eyes, searching for the piece of him that she couldn’t figure out. She saw dark spots in his eyes, revealing what he was hiding. He stared back at her, straightening up to his full height. His mouth twitched slightly and she gasped. The darks spots in his eyes, and the secret he hid was despair. A deeper despair than she had ever known, deeper than anything she had even heard of.
Lucas couldn’t believe how knowing Abigail’s eyes were. They seemed to gaze into his very soul and tear secrets from him that he didn’t even know he kept but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. He didn’t understand it at all. No one he knew had this effect on him. He was hypnotized by the vivid blue that made Abigail, Abigail. He saw the innocence in his eyes and the guilt he had felt for weeks welled back up inside him. She mustn’t know the truth. He saw as her eyes penetrated deeper within him and he felt himself losing control of his ability to keep secrets. Although it was difficult, he tore his gaze off of Abigail, and turned away.
“Lucas?” she asked carefully.
“What?” he snapped harshly, still not looking at Abigail. She was furious at him and herself. She shouldn’t have let herself go so deep into his feeling, shouldn’t have questioned the sadness in his eyes.
“What’s the matter? Why are you so upset?” She knew it was wrong to ask, but her curiosity got the better of her.
“Nothing. Why would something be the matter?” he put to her, finally turning around.
“Your eyes –” she started, but thought the better of it, instead she said, “why did you want me to stay?”
“Well, there’s nothing really for me to do at the moment.” He shrugged. “I just needed company. But you can go if you want.” he said, not caring. She turned to go. “But,” he started, she turned back, “I would prefer it if you did stay. Please?” She smiled at him and walked over.
“Teach me how to fight.” she said. It wasn’t a request, but an order. He laughed outright at that, but stopped suddenly when she raised a dangerous eyebrow.
“What? You can’t be serious.” he said, looking at her intently, searching for the joke. “Oh Christ, you are.” he sighed. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but there’s a little difference between us. Do you know what it is?” he asked.
“Um…I don’t know. Tell me.” she said.
“You’re female. I’m male. You didn’t notice?” he said incredulously. She blushed and said quickly,
“Of course I noticed.” He grinned wolfishly, misinterpreting her hasty reply. “But I don’t see how that makes a difference. I’m just as capable as you are.” she said proudly. He snorted in disbelief.
“You think you can fight as I can?” he asked.
“Well not right now of course. I need you to teach me. But I know that if you teach me, I’ll be as good as you. Maybe better.” she added, as an afterthought. He raised his eyebrows.
“Well, if I said yes…” he started, but seeing the triumphant grin spreading across her face, he panicked and quickly continued. “if! If! I said if. Anyway, if I said yes, you’d need to make it worth my while. I mean, that’s my free time, I don’t get much.”
“You got plenty of time off today.” she pointed out. He looked up quickly.
“No, no, no, no. Not on Saturdays. Saturday is my only day off.” he argued, throwing his hands in front of himself as if to guard her attack.
“Mine too!” she argued. He looked heavenward, as though praying for strength.
“Abigail. This is ridiculous. I could get fired! Or worse. You aren’t allowed to wield a sword. You’re a girl!” Abigail sighed with helplessness. She threw her hands up in exasperation and then whirled around to face him.
“Fine. But I will learn to fight.” she said with sudden vehemence, eyes glittering dangerously. “And I will prove to you that I can be as good as you. Just watch.” she ended. He looked curiously at her face. The smile tugging at her lips was one of triumph, not hope, nor failure. He was perplexed, and decided to proceed with Abigail with caution.
“I’m sure you will.” he said, hoping to calm her. “What happened to your arm?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I just felt a really sharp pain. That’s why I cried out. I’m perfectly able to control pain, I just needed more time,” she said, annoyed, still gripping her arm.
“Take your hand away,” he said, “let me see.” She reluctantly took her hand away, knowing what he would find there. His eyes widened in shock and he gasped.
“Abigail! Doesn’t it hurt?” he asked. There was a deep cut on Abigail’s arm, just below the sleeve of the blue dress. When she lifted the crates, the end of the third one fell back and slid along her arm, cutting her deeply. The crimson blood started to slowly trickle down her arm. He looked at her hand and saw that it, too, was covered in blood. “Shit, Abigail, why didn’t you let me help you?”
“Don’t swear! It isn’t polite.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Besides, I can hardly feel it. What about you?” she laughed. “You’re bleeding in almost the exact same spot as I am!” He looked down at his arm, where he had cut it. He realized that his cut was indeed very near to the same spot as Abigail’s, it was even on the same arm. He laughed.
“Here, take this,” he passed her a dirty looking handkerchief from his trouser pockets. She stared at in uncertainly. “Oh, they are just dirt stains for Heaven’s Sake. I assure you it’s perfectly clean.” She took it with a weak smile of thanks and held it up against her arm. Some of the blood had soaked into the dress. Abigail looked at it with dismay. Catching the look, Lucas said, “It’s only a dress.”
“My best friend gave me this dress!” she argued.
“That explains it then,” he told her. As no further explanation seemed forthcoming, Abigail asked testily,
“It explains what?”
“Nothing, don’t worry,” he said. She sighed and lifted the cloth from her arm, “keep the pressure on it!” he barked. Abigail glared at him fiercely, but put the cloth back on her arm none the less. “Wait here,” he told her, then disappeared back into the tiltyard. He came out moments later holding a damp white cloth, which he gave to Abigail. She looked at him questioningly, holding her arm at an awkward position in her attempt to hold the handkerchief, the wet cloth and her cut at the same time. “Use it to wipe your hand and your arm. You have a lot of dry blood on you.” She smiled gratefully and proceeded to do so.
“Have you seen the grounds?” he asked, looking over the field.
“No. And I don’t really care about it. What is there here that’s interesting?” she asked, rudely looking the same direction as he was.
“Do you still like horse-riding?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.
“Yes.” she said slowly. “How did you know that I liked horse-riding?” her suspicion rising again.
“You seem like the type of girl who would. That’s all.” he said, his laughter returning, and making his eyes gleam. She smiled nervously back at him. “So want to go with me?” he asked.
“Where?” she said.
“To the stables, of course.” He reached for her hand but she yanked it away.
“I can walk by myself.” she said, walking ahead of him stormily. He stood and waited for realization to dawn on her, a smirk on his face. She stopped suddenly and turned around. “Which way?” she asked feebly. He laughed outright and clutched his sides, bending over double with laughter. She sighed gustily and blew a strand of loose hair out of her face. “It really isn’t that funny.” She said tiredly. He just laughed harder in response. When his laughter finally died down he said,
“It’s nice to re-meet you, Abigail Bryan,” he said. She rolled her eyes.
“One day, Mr Lucas, you are going to tell me how you know me. And where I’ve met you before.”
“If you say so,” he replied, and walked in the opposite direction of the house. She grudgingly followed him, unwilling to admit that she wanted to follow him very very badly. The temptation of being near horses was almost more than she could stand. They walked for about twenty minutes before Abigail stopped suddenly, both hands flying to her cheeks. Lucas sped to her and with a worried look on his face asked,
“Abigail? Abigail what’s wrong?”
“I left Grace by herself!” she realized. “I must go back.”
“Do you mean the girl that was by the house? With brown hair and the pink dress?” he asked.
“Yes that’s her! Did you see her?” Abigail asked, nervously.
“Yes, she went back towards the house while you were under the crates, talking to me. Is she your friend?” he asked.
“Yes, well, I only really met her yesterday. But we became fast friends, she’s ever so lovely.” Abigail said, smiling brightly. Lucas smiled back and continued on to the stables. Abigail ran up next to him.
“So, Mr Lucas, do you have a last name?” she asked, looking up at him. She hadn’t really noticed how tall he was, but standing next to him now she saw that he was a good head and a half higher than her.
“Um, yes, it’s Jacobs.” he said. “Not quite as well known as Bryan. Or Bristol for that matter, but its good enough. Don’t you agree, Abigail?”
“Mr Jacobs…” she said contemplative. “Yes it suits you quite well. But you are a stranger to me and you must call me Miss Abigail.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Well. Because, that is what you do. It isn’t proper for men to call girls by their first name only an hour into their acquaintance,” she said, flustered.
“Proper? And I suppose hiding in trees from Lady Maxine is proper? And sword fighting in the halls of your house?” he said, wryly. She stared at him in open mouthed shock. She couldn’t string her thoughts together, let alone compose an entire sentence. He laughed and reached over to her. He touched her chin and pushed it up, back into place. “It isn’t proper for young ladies to leave their mouths hanging open either,” he laughed.
“Who are you?? Why won’t you tell me?” she spluttered.
“Because I’m no-one important. Do not worry yourself, Abigail.”
“MISS!” she spat at him. He laughed again. “Don’t you ever stop laughing?” she asked him.
“Not really, why would I not laugh when there is so much to laugh about?” he said back,
“I think you’re mad. What is so funny that you must constantly laugh?”
“Ah, well, Abigail, laughing doesn’t always mean something is funny. You can laugh just because you are happy.” And, not to Abigail’s surprise, he laughed again.
“Why are you always so happy?” she asked.
“Because I have nothing to be sad about.” He said, turning solemn. Abigail rolled her eyes at him, but as his words echoed in her head, she turned contemplative. She walked the rest of the way in silence, only looking up when they reached the stables.
“Do the girls walk all this way? Just to go horse-riding?” she asked, astonished.
“Of course not. The few that do ride take carriages up here. The classes aren’t any bigger than about ten girls for horse-riding at a time.” he said. He led her into the stables, through huge double doors that went so high they blocked out the sun. Abigail couldn’t believe that she hadn’t noticed it before. She turned back to see the main house, and found that it was only a tiny little thing in the distance. She hadn’t realized how far she had walked with Lucas. As they walked through the stables, horses came up to their stable gates to investigate the newcomers. They snorted over the wooden doors and rolled their eyes at Abigail and Lucas. There were about twenty horses in total, if not more. Each had their name on a special plate on their stable. The room smelt of hay and fur and a number of other unpleasant things. Abigail wrinkled her nose but smiled. She loved horses and being around them calmed her nerves. She walked to a horse whose name plate bared the name William. He was a grey with a dusting of black around his ankles and shoulders. He looked to be around fifteen hands tall but very strong. His flanks were powerful as were his ankles.
“Here,” Lucas held out his hand and presented Abigail with a shining red apple. Abigail looked from the apple to Lucas questioningly. “For the horse,” he explained. She laughed at herself at took the apple. Holding it out to William, she gently clicked her tongue and whispered to William. He came to her easily, first sniffing the apple, and then eating it in one bite. Abigail laughed gently and stroked William’s long nose.
“Do you want to ride him?” Lucas asked. Abigail spun around and stared at Lucas.
“Really? Won’t you get in trouble?” she asked.
“No, not if we don’t get caught. But don’t tell anyone ok?” he pleaded. Abigail beamed at him, happier than she had been in days. All of a sudden, her face fell. “What is it?” he asked
“I can’t ride in a dress.” She turned back to William, letting him nuzzle at her hand, searching for another apple. Lucas smile faded, but came back so suddenly that Abigail was startled. “What?”
“Wait here,” he said. He ran into a room around the side of William’s stable and came out again shortly after holding a pile of clothing. Abigail smiled and went through the clothes. “We don’t have sizes that would fit you, so it might be a little big. You can change in that room,” he said.
“Thank you. Lucas, thank you so much.” Abigail ran into the room and came out almost as soon as Lucas had before. In her eagerness she had ripped off only the dress and the white slip, leaving everything else on underneath. She was wearing dark blue pants that reached halfway down her shins. Usually tight on men, the pants were loose and slipping on Abigail. She had also donned the white shirt that Lucas gave her. She tied up her hair with the black ribbon that she kept with her. There were a few strands that framed her face that she had missed. She came out nervously, never having dressed in men’s clothing other than in front of her own maids and family. Lucas had tacked up William and another horse while she had been changing. He looked her up and down, then looked away again angrily. Christ’s Sake, she looked better in men’s clothing then he did. She didn’t notice the scowl on his face and instead rushed over to William. He pulled his head up in surprise, almost pulling the reins out of Lucas’s hand. She shushed him calmly, reaching for his shoulders, stroking him lightly. The doors were still open and instead of waiting for Lucas to get ready, she jumped from the ground and twisted herself up onto the horse, riding off as fast as she could manage out of the doors and onto the grass. The moment that she hit the field she nudged William faster, racing off in the opposite direction to the main house. She faintly heard Lucas shouting behind her, but ignored him and lost herself to the freedom of the mount. She rode and rode, not slowing down. She could hear William panting heavily underneath her but she knew that he was enjoying the ride as much as she was. She knew instinctively from the type of horses that were in the stables and the way William moved that the other girls didn’t ride like she did. Trotting and dressage were probably about the only things that they did. Eventually she arrived at the fence at the end. She pulled sharply on the reins and brought William to a standstill at the fence. Behind it was rolling hills and acres and acres of unused property. Abigail stared at the hills, lost in the beauty. A flock of birds suddenly flew out of the tree behind the fence, and Lucas pulled up next to her, panting loudly.
“Abigail!” he yelled at her.
“What?” she asked back, her face the picture of innocence. He glared at her as angrily as he could manage before he burst out laughing. She laughed with him. “Race you around that far tree,” she started, pointing, “and back to the stables.” He nodded assent. “One, two, three, GO!!” she yelled, kicking William into a fierce canter towards the trees. She heard Lucas come up next to her. Looking around her, Abigail assessed her position and speed in comparison to Lucas’s. From there she slowed William for the turn around the tree. Lucas was going too fast and would have to take the turn much wider, expecting her to do the same therefore gaining the upper hand on Abigail. On the tight turn around the tree, William reared and jumped up, giving him and Abigail an extra burst of speed. She sped off towards the stables, Lucas hardly being able to keep up with her. She turned in her seat and looked back at Lucas struggling to speed up. She threw her head back and laughed, her light voice ringing through the field with her genuine laughter.