The bouncing of the carriage along the well-travelled dirt road counteracted the steady clip-clop of the horse's hooves, keeping the young Lady Abigail quite awake and quite sore. Her father's carriage was too large by far for one woman and a manservant and Abigail found herself jostled about forcefully without the cushioning of other bodies. She had no hope for sleep to claim her and shorten the journey to her aunt's house. Across the coach from her, the manservant nodded his head, struggling to stay awake. Envy settled in Abigail's bosom. How she wished she could do the same! Perhaps it was the anticipation that dragged the hours so long. A whole summer of freedom awaited Abigail as soon as she stepped foot inside her aunt's house. No snide remarks from Father about finding a suitor, no reprimands from Mother for not holding her cutlery just so, the only chore awaiting her was keeping her favourite aunt company and that would be pleasurable. Tucking a stray curl of blonde hair behind her ear, she leaned her forehead against the carriage window and blew gently on the glass. As her breath frosted the pane, she lifted a finger to sketch a rather stick-like horse before it faded away. Surely, they must be nearing the inn where they would sup before too much longer!