It had been a long time since she had played randomly as a child and even then she was not all that interested in anything that did not have a value or a purpose for the art of survival.They all paused to give the Friar a chance to catch his breath sitting on a large, flat-topped rock and sopping up his perspiration with towels from the old Abbey now shuttered and unoccupied with naught but rodents and bugs. One of Lady Cordelia’s girls gave him a long swig from the water flask. He swallowed it completely, but Rowena was certain he would have much preferred some of the imported French wine that tickled his palate.Lady Cordelia leaned over to whisper in Rowena’s ear,“Thank you for escorting us to our destination, my dear, we are all indebted to you. Please stay in the castle this night and rest up for the remainder of your journey.”Rowena was not overly enthusiastic about losing yet another day on her trip to seek justice for the villagers of her manor. It was easy to see that the. "All right... all right, tonight. We'll go tonight," he'd said, perspiration dribbling down his heavy jowls. "Yes, by God... tonight!"She would have done anything to get away from the decaying hovel of her parents, the absurd poverty of the village, and the inevitable arranged marriage to come. God, she remembered, she had only to look upon the drudge who was her mother, a woman unbelievably aged beyond her thirty-five years to find justification in the way she had run off.Keel had told her he was not married; she hadn't believed him. Anyway, that had been unimportant; all that mattered was getting to Boston where she could meet a nice American boy and marry him. How many nights she'd dreamed such fantasies... a pretty little house with flowers around it, an automobile of their own, and perhaps one, two, even three babies, depending, of course, upon what her husband would want; and a wardrobe of three or four plain dresses, with as many beautiful ones for best... for this was the way.
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