Eleanor has kind of figured that this girl was not from around here, and by the way she had addressed herself, it rang every bell in the room, both for her and Charles. [i]'The daughter of Lord Ashe herself. In the flesh'[/i], the blonde thought, before taking a glance towards Vane, whom she'd figured was on the back of the room, just behind the girl. She thought about Abigail's request for sanctuary and, after a moment, she placed her attention back to her, knowing that it would be a much suited idea for her to receive proper care. "I know a woman; just on the outskirts of town. Her name is Miranda Barlow-Hamilton. She mentioned to me about you a while back, and she claims that she's a friend of your father's", she recommended, before taking a split second to glance at Charles in the distance. "I'll have one of my men escort you there, and she should be able to provide you with proper food and shelter", Eleanor added to her, hoping that by being at Lady Barlow's farm, Abigail would be able to get cleaned up, and be watched over by someone with a connection to the family. Miranda was the heart; a sweet, optimistic, and caring woman, as far as Eleanor knew her. The girl should be safe within her care. 

As promised, one of her henchmen have prepared a horse and cart that will transport Abigail to Lady Barlow's farm. He came to retrieve the girl shortly after the meeting, and helped her up, and into the cart. The blonde was kind enough to loan her a blanket to cover up her tarnished nightdress, as the cart made its way a few miles across deserted roads and sandy prairies, until patches of farmland came into view. [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Is_8pCLJnY]Miranda[/url] was in front of her small farmhouse, at the well, trying to pull the bucket up by the rope. The middle-aged woman's story was brief, and it was apparent throughout the atmosphere: After losing Thomas, her husband, she and James McGraw aka Captain Flint were forced to abandon the wealthy life, and live on the outskirts of the common folk, with her as a resident, and him as a pirate. Not that it was a bad story, but a tragic one, and Miranda was a woman trapped in a reality of despair and life's future; not that she would reveal that despair, but she seems to always cover it up with a reassuring smile. Like how others would describe her, she was "the heart"; only a few buccaneers knew her, and nobody, at the most part, would want to cross paths with a woman who had a distant connection with the man, who had the spelling of 'Anti-Piracy". Not to mention that Captain James Flint would be vindictive if she was harmed in any way.