The Runaway Princess

Chapter 10

“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.” Bernard M. Baruch

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Chapter Ten

“Davy, are you certain this is safe?” Bess asked worriedly. She hesitantly reached out to touch the leather padded chair that David had designed and created in order to make Imogen’s journey down the stairs easier, and perhaps even a little more entertaining.

“Mind your fingers, Mama,” David instructed as he continued to nail the leather to the timber chair that he had constructed. Bess removed her hand from the chair so that he had access to the section that she had been touching.

David was nearly finished his contraption. Once he had finished construction on the chair, he would need to weld the chair to the track and it would be complete.

“I am almost positive that this will be safe,” David informed his mother. He had no intention of allowing Imogen to use the chair if it was not safe. He would first test it with some sort of object that was a similar weight to her.

David used his sleeve to wipe the sweat away from his forehead. Working at a blacksmith was quite strenuous. He had great respect for the Ascot blacksmith, Frederick Anderson. Mr Anderson was currently shoeing horses out in his stable.

“I am very happy that you want to help Imogen, dear, but I am not sure that I am comfortable with you being near flames and hot irons,” she fretted, looking at the glowing embers fearfully.

David smirked. Little did his mother know that he had spent nearly every free minute while at Cambridge learning the blacksmith trade. “I am perfectly alright, Mama,” he assured her. “Are you going to tell me the reason for why you have come to see me this morning?”

Bess smiled guiltily as she sat down on a bench seat. “I wanted to know if you have spoken to Elena much since the cricket match.”

David rolled his eyes. Of course his mother had noticed their conversation at the cricket match the day before. When David saw Elena’s tiring arm struggling with the princess’ parasol, he had taken it from her in an attempt to impress her. That was his ulterior motive. Elena’s beauty had captured his attention, but his interest was being held by her sweet, patient and kind nature. She had to have those qualities to act as the voice of someone who could not speak a language. He wished that it was appropriate for him to spend time with her. He would enjoy knowing and understanding her, and she him. “You may be the only mother in the entire aristocracy pushing her son towards a marriage with a housemaid,” he remarked.

“And proud to be!” she exclaimed. “I have no desire for you to make a match for financial gain. What better way to avoid a fortune hunting lady than to marry a housemaid? She is sweet, well-mannered and reserved. She has managed to gain the good favour of a princess,” she pointed out, “and she has captured your attention. I see no issue.”

David had no intention of marrying one of the many women that his mother had invited to the balls that they had both hosted and attended over the past month. He knew they were fortune hunting, title seeking women, liars for want of a better word. He would not tolerate liars.

“I do believe that Elena is intimidated by us, by our way of life,” Bess continued calmly. “The Princess’ reliance on her had given her an opportunity to know us and she resists.”

“And you want to know why?” guessed David. He could see his mother’s curiosity in her seemingly good natured deed.

Bess pursed her lips and nodded. “I cannot help but be curious,” she replied. “Do not you think there is something curious about her?”