Synopsis: Abigail Jones’ fantasies get out of hand (literally).
Rating: G Words: 4,065
The Brandsters acknowledge that the authors are the owners of their stories. Should an author included in the project reach out to us and indicate they do not wish their work to be archived in the Bonanza Brand Fanfiction Library, we will remove their stories. We would also be happy to change the e:mail address for any authors who wish to continue to have their stories archived in the Library.
Lady Isabelle and the Black Knight
From the private diary of Miss Abigail Jones:
Saturday, June 18, 1860
It is finished at long last! When I first began my collection of foolish scribblings I thought that this day would never come, but tonight I felt as if some powerful otherworldly spirit was guiding my pen, for I felt compelled to finish the last troublesome chapter of my novel, to complete the romantic tale of Lady Isabelle and her knight. I stayed up late writing. Even now my mother’s clock downstairs strikes ten o’clock! And me still awake! It is truly as if some spirit has possessed me.
But my story is wonderful, much more than I thought it would be when I first started it, quickly jotting down my silly daydreams while my students were taking a test one afternoon long ago. And all those evenings I spent here, instead of attending those dances in town…well it was more than worth it. It doesn’t matter that He was probably at those dances that Mother said were too common for people like us to attend, because my creation is perfect. And now it is finally done! It is almost a shame that no one but I will ever read my masterpiece, if I may humbly call it that, but it is much too personal to be shared with common strangers like those giggling women I see around town. They would doubtless not appreciate its finer qualities.
My hand aches and I must get up early for church tomorrow, so I cannot stay up much later. I have been given the responsibility and honor of having the new additions to the hymnal printed out. I of course took care of this some time ago and cannot help a feeling of pride similar to my joy in my novel at the sight of the stack of papers resting on my dresser. I am glad that my promptness and punctuality finally caught the town’s attention. Especially on such a time as this, with the church social tomorrow. My heart pounds at the very idea, for He will definitely be there, and perhaps I will even have a chance to speak with him! I have not had to chance to really speak with him since Little Joseph left school.
As excited as I am, my eyes are drifting closed on their own now and I know I should be off to bed. I declare, these late hours will be the death of me! So goodnight diary, parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow!
~~~~~
Abigail had possibly never felt prouder than she did at this moment. She handed the last of the papers in her hands to a latecomer with a polite, if slightly reproachful and superior, smile, and then turned to slip into the seat next to her mother. The Reverend was just beginning his sermon and Abigail had no doubt that it would be just as fascinating as his many other sermons. She hadn’t yet missed one, though this morning it had been close.
Perhaps it was due to her shockingly late night, but she had overslept at least half an hour. When her mother had finally called her down for breakfast, she’d realized that she would have to hurry if she wanted to be the first to the church, as was her habit. So she’d grabbed the stack of papers on her dresser before hurrying downstairs to eat breakfast and to help her mother prepare the food for the picnic later.
Thinking of it now, she had to stifle a tired yawn behind her white glove and shook her head before looking determinedly at the Reverend as he opened the Book and began to talk about the question of turning one’s thoughts from heaven to more earthly matters. Abigail nodded along and though she was still listening, allowed her eyes to drift from the Reverend to the first pew, where the Cartwright family sat, and to the tall man sitting on the end. He was easy to spot being both a head taller than most of the other men there and being dressed all in black from head to toe.
She’d wondered about that black outfit before, but was sure that it was a sign of his serious, earnest temperament; just as she was sure that the closed, almost set expression on his face right now meant that he was paying close attention to what the good reverend was saying. It was one of the many things she loved about him, more so even then his frequent determination to stand up for what was right and his bashfulness and reluctance to speak during their rare conversations.
She recognized that Adam Cartwright spoke often through actions, not words, but when he chose to speak, his words could be as poetic as anything by Wordsworth or Shakespeare. Why she was sure, if ever the situation arose, though she blushed to think of how, or when, that if he should read her little story, he would have nothing but praise for it. He was a man of letters after all. If only there were more like him. She sighed sadly. It was no wonder they said romance was dead.
She moved her gaze reluctantly away from him as it was about time to stand and sing from the hymnal and noticed a quickly stifled laugh from somewhere behind her. Abigail sniffed. Church was no place for laughter. The very idea! She exchanged a knowing look with her mother before picking up her hymnal with the addition she’d had printed out tucked inside. That laugh came again as the Reverend asked everyone to stand and praise her for her contribution to the church and the community. Abigail tried to smile and ignore the sound that ruined her moment of glory, but knew she wasn’t the only one who turned around to look for the source during the song. Luckily, the giggling seemed to end with the singing and for the rest of the service all was quiet, as it should have been.
“I declare, some people were just not raised properly, Mother,” she complained softly to her mother once they were outside the church doors and heading for the green where the picnic was being held. “Now you see the problems I have with my pupils.” Abigail’s eyes drifted to several of her students as she said this. A group of young girls was gathered under a young tree, huddled over a few pieces of paper and reading excitedly. After a few seconds they erupted into giggles and pulled a young man who was passing by into their circle. They looked like they were having fun. Abigail sniffed again at such unseemly behavior before heading determinedly over to the picnic tables.
The food was still being set out, so she got herself a drink of lemonade once her mother wandered off with a few of her friends, and quickly entered into a conversation with one of the women from her sewing circle that she was on good terms with. But when Abigail saw the Cartwrights finally making their way towards the tables, led by Hoss of course, she excused herself and tried to hurry discreetly in that direction.
She was delayed in the next second by a well-meaning mother of one of her students, who wanted to talk about her son’s scores on his last arithmetic exam. So Abigail dealt with that with as much patience as she could have under the circumstance, which was not much, and finally managed to get herself free. But when she looked around, Adam Cartwright was nowhere in sight. She could still see his family scattered in several places near the long tables, as well as a group of grown men standing near the area for horseshoes, holding a piece of paper in their hands and shaking with laughter. Part of her wondered vaguely what those pieces of paper were, but she was more concerned with locating her prey. Abigail cleared her throat at the thought and corrected herself. With locating Adam Cartwright.
More determined now, she decided to ask one of his brothers. Or rather, to delicately hint around the subject and hope they would tell her. She decided on Hoss, since he would probably be the easiest one to extract information from. For some reason, he jumped when he saw her coming and almost choked on the piece of chicken he’d probably stolen from one of the tables.
“Uh, howdy, Miss Abigail.” Once he’d caught his breath, he greeted her with a tip of his hat. “What can I do for you?”
“Hello, Hoss.” She smiled widely at him. Why that would make him flinch she had no idea. Mother always said that gentle smiles from a woman always pleased a man. “Enjoying yourself?”
He nodded. “Yup.”
“Where’s the rest of your family?” she inquired politely and did her best to ignore the piece of chicken on his shirt.
“You mean Ad…uh…Pa and Joe and such?” His face turned red. Before she could demand to know what that was about, Little Joseph appeared at his side.
“Hey, Hoss! There’s more of it….Oh!” Joseph seemed to notice her and stopped abruptly. Then he blushed as red as his brother. “Oh, hey, Miss Abigail!” He smiled so brightly that she briefly remembered the many times he’d tried to get out of some punishment when he’d been in her class.
“Is something the matter?” she asked in concern, but with a touch of suspicion, and he shook his head quickly. Then he tugged on Hoss’ vest. Joseph’s eyes were sparkling at some private joke now.
“If you’ll excuse us, Miss Abigail, I just need to borrow Hoss for a moment.”
“Of course,” she agreed, since no one could ever say that she was not polite and smiled even though she hadn’t learned where Adam was, and watched them walk away.
“Who knew she had it in her?” Abigail heard Joe say but ignored the odd words. Then she sighed. Well, Adam wouldn’t wander far from the tables, she reasoned. It was almost time to eat. She would just stay around here. He probably had as big a sweet tooth as his younger brother, she imagined fondly.
Abigail walked slowly back the way she had come to get some more lemonade and paused in the thin shade of a sapling tree for a moment to observe the scene. It was a lovely day, though generally she didn’t care for outdoor eating too much. It was much more genteel and proper to eat inside. The many couples walking together in the sunshine didn’t seem to mind too much though, she noticed.
She had just taken a sip of her drink when part of the conversation between one of those couples walking past caught her attention.
“Well, I liked it!” The woman was saying defensively. The man with her snorted.
“Romantic drivel! Knights and things running around. Complete foolishness!”
“I liked it!” the woman insisted in an insulted tone and stalked off. He followed her quickly and began calling after her in an apologetic voice. Abigail barely noticed, though she did think that arguing in public was a bit shocking.
“Knights and things?” she asked herself quietly and wondered what they were talking about. She stepped away from the tree and headed back to the tables and to small group of women crowded around the desserts. She stepped up behind them curiously and nearly choked on her lemonade when she heard what they were saying. Or actually, what they were reading.
“’Alas!’ Lady Isabelle cried out futilely from her cold cell. She wrapped her pale hands around the steely bars of her small window and allowed herself one long, sad look at the blue sky outside. Somewhere under that sky rode the brave and true Black Knight, but he could not save her now, if he should even wish to. Isabelle sobbed at that thought, unsure of his feelings for her, for he was ever gallant in her presence, but he was so with every lady at court. She had often even wondered if he were too shy to speak, for she knew her intelligence and piety dismayed many of her more lacking suitors. And now, due to that bashfulness she loved so dearly, she had no way of knowing the truth of his heart. Not that it mattered now. The dastardly Duke of Ravenskeep had captured her and was holding her captive in his tower until she agreed to marry him. ‘Alas!’ she sighed one last time and sank against the dirty floor to weep, uncaring that she soiled her fine gown as she did.” The woman reading it sighed as she finished, as did several of the ladies around her. Abigail gasped for air.
“Is there any more?” one of them asked demandingly and Abigail tensed, but she realized even as she did that this had to be what was on the pieces of paper that everyone was reading and talking about. She must have mixed up her manuscript with the hymnal additions, and now everyone in town was reading her story! She felt her knees get weak and closed her eyes to keep from fainting for the first time in her life.
This was horrible! Absolutely horrible! Abigail pressed a hand to her chest to still the frantic beating of her heart and looked furtively around the grassy meadow. It was worse than horrible. Everywhere she looked, nearly every single person was holding or reading her story. It was mortifying. They had to know it was hers, if it had been distributed along with the additions.
She opened her eyes and found herself looking into the concerned faces of the women around her. She recognized them now as group of unmarried ladies a few years younger than her. She usually saw at least one of them on the arm of Little Joe Cartwright at dances. But none of them was ever without an escort.
“Are you all right, Miss Jones?” one of them wondered. They were all smiling at her.
“Probably faint from the success of her story. It really is wonderful,” another added. Abigail just stared at her and struggled to make sense of the words.
“You like it?” she asked breathlessly, distracted by the thought. “Really?” For a moment she smiled widely at all of them, ignoring what her mother would probably say if she read the manuscript.
“Especially that hero…the Black Knight,” another one threw in as if Abigail didn’t know exactly what they were talking about. She gasped again. The hero! Days ago she wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she’d forgotten all about him.
“And what…what did you think of the hero?” Abigail winced at her own question. She must seem so obvious. But they all only smiled in a friendly way. One of them even sighed.
“Is there more? You must come over to my house for tea sometime so we can discuss it? Will you write more?” A grinning girl lightly touched Abigail’s arm as she extended the invitation. Abigail nodded eagerly before she could even think of what Mother would say.
“Wonderful! Wherever did you get the idea?” Several of them sighed again, answering her question.
For a moment Abigail couldn’t breathe, her relief was so great. They hadn’t guessed! Then she caught sight of two people who had most definitely guessed who her hero had been based on. Her eyes followed Little Joe and Hoss as they left the tables and headed straight for the tall man leaning against a tree, partially hidden by its shade. She gulped and forgot all about how eager she’d been to see that very person only minutes before.
“Excuse me,” she managed to say distractedly to the ladies and chased desperately after the two brothers, uncaring of how improper her dash would look. They wouldn’t! she told herself comfortingly but didn’t slow her pace one bit until she was close enough to them to hear what was being said. Someone, she thought it might have been that Hank Meyers, tried to approach her as she hurried by, but she just smiled distractedly at his eager greeting and increased her pace. She stopped when she reached the three men and slipped around the other side of the tree so she wouldn’t be seen, struggling to catch her breath.
“Hey, Adam,” Hoss greeted his brother warmly, barely able to control his laughter. “Nice day, huh?” he continued. Adam agreed with him seriously and Abigail nearly fainted again at just the sound of his voice.
“Bet it’ll be an even lovelier night, right, Joe?” Hoss said before bursting out laughing.
“Aren’t you hot in all that black, older brother?” Joseph asked as if concerned.
“Is there a reason you two are over here?” Adam asked. Abigail would have said he sounded irritated, but of course she knew that he loved his brothers and would never ever lose his temper with them. It just wasn’t in his nature.
“Does there have to be a reason?” Little Joe countered, nudging Hoss. Adam gave a long sigh.
“I’m over here to be alone. I thought it might help my headache better than all this sunshine.”
“Stayed out late last night, hmm?” Joe was openly laughing now. “How every unseemly.” Abigail wondered what Adam had been doing so late. Probably working. He was such a hard worker and so devoted to his family. “There’s no need to be so bashful, Adam.”
“Well, it just so happens Joe and I got somethin’ to help with your headache.” Hoss looked very pleased with himself and Abigail gasped as he pulled some papers from his vest. All three of them turned at the sound. “Miss Abigail?” Hoss asked with a frown and tried to stuff the papers back into his vest. Joe was also frowning as she came out and tried to act like she had not been hiding behind the tree and listening to their conversation. He and Hoss both looked ashamed of themselves suddenly. As they should. She sniffed before turning at long last to face Adam.
Unfortunately, Adam wasn’t looking at her.
“Miss Jones.” He nodded vaguely in her direction before pulling the papers away from Hoss. Abigail watched anxiously as Hoss tried, too late, to snatch them back. “This will help my headache?” Adam asked no one in particular and started skimming the first page.
“Aw, we was just funnin’” Hoss started to say but trailed off when Adam pulled the papers closer and began reading intently. Abigail stood on tiptoe to see which part he had and winced when she saw that it was what she had written last night. The end. She knew it by heart. When Adam began to read it out loud she moved her lips, remembering each and every word.
“’You came for me, you saved me!’ Lady Isabelle stepped delicately over the hacked and bloodied body that had once been the Duke of Ravenskeep to stand in front of the Black Knight. He raised his face guard to stare and her and lowered the bloodstained sword to his side.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked softly, his eyes searching hers. She nodded, unable to speak at that look. ‘I…I will always come for you, Lady Isabelle,’ he added and turned away quickly. But not before she could see the red spreading across his handsome features. Amazing that a man so brave in some respects would be so shy with her. But she knew his heart now and stepped closer to him. He turned back to her, looking startled. ‘Lady Isabelle?’
‘Don’t worry, my brave Black Knight,’ Isabelle assured him. ‘Now I know thy heart. There is no need for words.”
The Black Knight stared at her for a long time before throwing back his head to laugh.
‘If only you knew how I suffered to think of you with another,’ he confessed with another laugh. Then he grew serious. ‘But now I must return you to your father’s house.’
‘Of course,’ Lady Isabelle agreed, a little disappointed, for once, with his shyness. But when she sighed, he stopped and placed his gauntleted hand over hers.
‘What? I would not see you unhappy.’ His concern nearly undid her. Isabelle peeked up at him and struggled to remember her sense of propriety. But she couldn’t help herself.
My one wish is that you would take me in your arms this very moment,’ she confessed boldly and blushed herself. Her knight blushed as well, but pulled her against the hard metal of his armor with a smile.
‘As you wish, my lady,’ he whispered and embraced her warmly right there in the tower of Ravenskeep.
The End”
Abigail sighed. Even Hoss and Joe had silly smiles on their faces, she noticed distantly.
“This is supposed to help me with my headache?” Adam asked curiously and flipped the pages. “Who wrote this?” He looked to her when Hoss and Joe both nodded their heads in her direction, keeping their eyes on the ground.
Adam’s brown eyes regarded her seriously for a moment before he smiled. Abigail held her breath, both from nervousness and from the effect of those eyes and that smile.
“It’s good, Miss Jones. You are to be congratulated. I’ll have to read the rest sometime.” At his words, both of his brothers looked up and smiled.
“It truly is a good story, Miss Abigail,” Joseph offered. Hoss nodded eagerly.
“Really, Adam? I mean, Mr. Cartwright?” Abigail’s breath left her in a rush. She ignored the other two and focused on Adam. He nodded, then frowned slightly.
“But about the Black Knight…” he paused as if he didn’t know how to go on. Abigail stilled.
“He seems very brave, but what kind of man is he? Can’t he speak for himself?”
Abigail smiled suddenly and leaned forward to place one gloved hand on his arm.
“He’s the very best kind of man,” she said meaningfully, staring up into his eyes. She recognized his own personal anguish at the thought. He nodded slowly and patted her hand before removing it gently. Abigail nodded. Of course, she nodded to herself; he was still too shy for even that most innocent of touches.
“Where did my brothers disappear off to?” he asked suddenly and she looked around. They were indeed gone. She glanced around the field, admiring his devotion to his family.
“It’s time to eat. I think they’ve gone to the tables.” She looked back up at him.
“I suppose I should go over there.”
“I should head that way as well.” Adam made a face that momentarily confused her, almost as if the thought turned his stomach, until she realized that he was probably too embarrassed to pair off with her and was disgusted with himself. She nodded again in sympathy and understanding. Of course. There was plenty of time for her Black Knight to declare himself.
“Goodbye for now,” she told him with a gentle smile and felt pleased when he nodded and handed her the last pages of her story.
Then she skipped away toward the tables and to the group of young ladies still bent over her novel.
~~~~~
Sunday, June 19, 1860
For a few moments today, I thought I would surely die of the humiliation of having my book of dreams discovered, but instead I have never felt such happiness. Not only did others read my writings and enjoy them, but I spoke with Him. The look in his eyes said more anything that could have passed his lips! He liked it! And more than that, he understood! Ah, my brave Black Knight! My heart pounds so I wonder how I will ever get to sleep. Soon enough, he will find his courage and speak his heart! I fear I cannot wait until then.
And now I must at least attempt to sleep. I am tired from last night as well from the excitement today. And I have an invitation to tea tomorrow and I musn’t look tired. Thoughts of my knight are running through my head so much that I fear I will not be able to sleep, and I wonder if there are more adventures of Lady Isabelle and her Black Knight waiting to be written…Good night, diary. I know my dreams will be sweet.
The End
