Timeless

CHAPTER 38

1509

W hen that board smacked into her brother’s head, her whole world had changed. Agnes had felt something akin to a strong wind hit her hard, knocking her back, and only Frances had been able to get her to focus on the task at hand: running. Even if she’d changed her mind then and wanted to stay, she couldn’t anymore. Her brother had been attacked, and she’d been party to it. He’d seen her trying to leave, and her father would not have been happy about that. Her mother would’ve been disappointed. Her brothers would’ve been angry. And she would’ve been sent to the man who would’ve been her husband with clear instructions never to return home and for him to probably never let Agnes out of his sight.

They’d ridden through the night, and Agnes had been turning around every few minutes to see if they were being followed. Seeing no one each time, she’d felt just a little bit better the farther away they’d gotten from her village. They’d stopped a few times to water the horse and give him a rest, but they hadn’t slept. Three days, they’d gone on until there were no more roads and paths through the woods. Finally, having seen no one of any interest, they’d stopped to get some rest by a river, under the cover of thick trees. Their horse had been tied and fed, and since they’d run out of food themselves, Frances had shown her some of her tricks for catching rabbits and squirrels. Agnes had found them berries, and they’d started a fire. Later that night, as they’d lain on the ground, wrapped in each other’s arms, and stared up at the stars, Agnes hadn’t ever felt so safe and so loved in her entire life.

They’d continued on like that for many weeks, finding places to hide along their route to nowhere in particular. Seven months later, they ended up in the middle of a small field surrounded by woods.

“We can build it here,” Frances said.

“Build a house?”

“Yes. There’s plenty of timber right here and animals to hunt for food.” She motioned to the trees behind them. “A pond is just on the other side of those trees, and there is a river not far off. We would have water. We’d have land here to farm. It’s far away from everything and everyone who might know us, and the closest village is at least a ten-day ride from here. We’re all alone, which is what we want, right?”

“Yes, but you’re sure? We’ve been living in the woods, so no one could come upon us. This is in the open, Frances.”

“We can ride in all directions first to see how close anyone else is on each side, but, yes, I’m sure, my love. Look.” Frances pointed out at the field. “It’s a field of wildflowers. We can keep them there. We’d only need a small plot to farm just for us. For anything else we might need, we can ride into different villages and barter.”

“Why different?”

“That way, no one gets to know us.”

“Right,” Agnes said.

The next morning, they rode off and spent three days searching for any other evidence of a village before they returned to their future home and began the long process of building it. Frances left a few more times, searching for anyone who might be too close, but she returned each time with their horse and the knowledge that no one was near enough to cause them any problems. At least, for now.

Until their home was built, they lived in the woods in a makeshift shelter that protected them from the elements. By day, they worked together to build themselves a one-room cabin, set up their future farm, and went hunting or gathered food. By night, they cuddled together in their shelter and tried not to pay any mind to the sounds of the wolves and other animals who were out hunting for their own meals.

It took months, but finally, their small house was ready on the outside, at least. A few more months later, the inside of it started to feel like a home as well. It was their first night in that home, after considering their work done, when Agnes rolled over on their straw bed and faced Frances, who was staring up at the ceiling. She took her in and thought about how far they’d come together. In a seemingly impossible situation, they’d made it away from Agnes’s family and the man they would’ve sold her to, despite her protestations.

“What’s going through your mind?” Agnes asked, running the back of her fingers over Frances’s soft cheek.

“That we did it. I’m lying in bed next to you in a home that we share. No one can take what we’ve done from us. We have land, a farm, and everything we might need from our bartering. No one seemed to mind that I was doing the work for my sick husband that doesn’t exist. They just wanted my wares, and I wanted theirs, so now, we have a home.” Frances turned her face to her and added, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Agnes swallowed. “Frances?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ready.”

Frances rolled to her completely and asked, “You are?”

Agnes nodded and said, “I want to marry you.”

“I want to marry you, too,” Frances replied.

Frances had asked Agnes to be her wife the night they’d found this land. Agnes had told her that she wanted that, but she wanted them to have their home built first and for them to know that they were safe here. Now that they had those things, Agnes was ready to be a wife to the woman she loved, who had already been through so much with her.

“Do you… want to wear a fancy dress? We can get fabric from–”

“No, I want to marry you now,” she interrupted.

“Now? We’re in bed, about to go to sleep.”

“Now, Frances.” Agnes cupped her cheek. “Before only God, I want to marry you now.”

“All right,” Frances said. “We should at least stand up. I can go outside and make you a wreath of flowers that you can wear in your hair.” She pushed some of that hair behind Agnes’s ear. “You favor the honeysuckle.” Frances smiled at her with that same soft smile from the day they’d met.

“No, right now,” Agnes repeated, moving closer to her. “I take you to be my wife. I vow to love you and protect you for all time.”

Frances sighed, pressed her forehead to Agnes’s, and said, “I take you to be my wife. I promise to love you and protect you for all time. I–” She stopped for a moment. “I never wish to be parted from you, Agnes.”

“We won’t be anymore. We’ll never be parted again. Where you go, I go.”

“If something tries to part us, I will find you. Always remember that I will find you.”

“You don’t have to find me, my love. I’m right here. I’ll be by your side always.”

Frances then pressed her lips gently to Agnes’s and said, “You’re my wife.”

“I’m your wife,” Agnes replied with a wide smile. “And I’m ready.”

“You wanted to wait until we were married,” Frances said very softly.

“And you have been very patient,” Agnes replied and watched her swallow.

“I’ll wait forever for you. From the moment I saw you for the first time, I knew you were the only one for me.”

“I’m your wife now, and I am ready, my love.” When Frances kissed her forehead in response, Agnes added, “I was hoping you’d kiss me a bit lower than that for our wedding night.”

Frances kissed her on the nose and whispered, “I will kiss you everywhere if you let me.”

“Yes,” Agnes replied.

“And you’re certain? I don’t mind waiting longer.”

Agnes nodded. She’d known that they could never be married how women married men, but she’d also not been ready to give herself over entirely to Frances until they were wed. She supposed that was because as much as she’d tried to forget about her former life, some of what her mother had told her about her wedding night had stuck with her. Her mother hadn’t been descriptive, but she had told her that God wanted women to wait for their wedding night so that He could bless their union through their physical connection. Agnes wanted that now, that physical connection that they’d always prevented themselves from having despite it being difficult to stop every time.

Frances let out a nervous breath, and Agnes liked that her wife was nervous, too. It made her feel safe and just a little less nervous herself. Frances sat up and removed her nightshirt, leaving her nude in front of Agnes, and not for the first time. They’d seen one another naked many times by now. Baths in the rivers, ponds, lakes, and streams had been necessary, and hiding from one another hadn’t ever seemed important when they needed to ensure that no one else was around, trying to catch them to bring Agnes home. They’d even held one another a few times with nothing between them, but they’d never touched each other how they were about to.

When Agnes sat up in bed as well, Frances reached for her nightshirt, pulled it off for her, and tossed it aside. The fire still roared off to the side, making the room somewhat warm, but soon, if Frances didn’t cover her body with her own, they would both be cold, so Agnes moved to lie back down, and Frances moved on top of her. This was the first time they’d been pressed together like this.

“I don’t…” Frances began. “I think I know what to do. I know what I want to do, but I don’t know if you’ll like that.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Touch you between your legs, where I think it will feel good for you because it feels good for me.”

“Someone else has touched–”

“No, my love.” Frances kissed her sweetly. “No one has ever touched me. I have touched myself. When I was alone in the forest, I would dream of one day meeting a woman that I could love, who would love me back, and I would feel it between my legs; a pulse. A wetness would grow and beg for me to touch there.”

“And you did?” she asked, breathlessly.

“Yes, sometimes.”

“How did it feel?”

“Wonderful,” Frances replied. “Wet and soft until it was wet and hard. I rubbed it until I felt a tingling in my toes, and I got hot all over. Then, it… overtook my whole being, and I felt an immense relief.”

“I’ve never done that,” Agnes confessed.

“I’d like to do that for you. May I, my love?”

When Agnes nodded, Frances leaned down and kissed her softly. Shortly after, Agnes felt what Frances had been talking about begin to build within her. She’d felt it before, too, when they’d held one another without clothing or kissed for long moments, but now, she could just let herself feel it, knowing she no longer needed to control it. She was in her wife’s arms, and they were about to make love.

Frances moved her lips to Agnes’s neck next, and she kissed her there before moving lower. Agnes wondered if the man who would’ve been her husband would’ve taken such care with her for their wedding night and knew the answer. No one would ever take care of her how Frances would tonight.

“I love you,” Frances whispered as she massaged Agnes’s breast.

“I love you,” she said back. “Oh…”

She’d been told that her breasts were meant for feeding her children, but the way Frances was touching them felt so good. When Frances let her mouth encircle one of them, too, Agnes closed her eyes and tried to be in this moment, letting the wetness pool between her thighs for what was to come.

“May I touch you?” Frances asked quietly. “I will kiss you everywhere, like I promised, but I must touch you, Agnes. Please.”

“Yes,” Agnes replied.

Frances moved back up to kiss her, and seconds later, Agnes felt her hand between her legs for the first time.