locating the rope, she flung it over her shoulder and made her way up to the parapets.
Hunching low to remain undetected, she moved along towards the place she had decided would be the best to make her descent. None of it would be easy, but on this side of the castle, the ground was a little higher due to a rocky outcrop at the bottom. She placed the rope on the ground and went to uncoil it. As she did so she heard footsteps approaching. Quick as lightning she flattened herself against the wall, bringing the rope and bag with her. If the guard saw her now, then her escape plan was history. So was her backside, for that matter, when John found out. She held her breath hoping and praying he wouldn't see her.
Luck was on her side, though, for he suddenly turned around and went back the way he had come. Arabella released the breath she'd been holding and almost went light headed with relief. Lord, that had been close! She didn't know or care what had made him change direction, she was just thankful that he had.
When she was certain he had gone, she popped her head over the parapet and looked down. She could just make out the rocks below in the dim moonlight. Throwing the rope around the nearest turret, she tied it tightly twice to make sure it would hold her weight and then cautiously dangled the rest of the length down the side of the wall. Well, it was now or never. The never seemed particularly appealing now she was actually here, but she knew she was going to have to find an inner strength if she was to make her getaway. Securing her bag around her shoulder and neck, and taking a deep breath, she climbed up onto the parapet and took hold of the rope, wrapping it around her body for support. She'd seen one of the castle guards do the very same thing when she'd lived with her father. The thought of her father made her blink back tears. She so very dearly wanted to see him. Once he knew who she was really married to, he would make certain that she never had to go back.
With renewed determination, she took the first step down the wall. The rope gave slightly at the top, and for a moment she thought it would give way, but it tautened and stayed strong. Bit by bit, she began the descent.
* * *
John was having trouble sleeping. Whatever position he put himself in, he couldn't get comfortable. He'd doze for a few minutes, and then his eyes would ping open again. He punched his feather pillow and nestled it under his head for the hundredth time. Closing his eyes, he settled down to try and sleep, but the harder he tried the more it evaded him. Frustrated, he sat up in bed and ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps if he took some fresh air, it would aid his slumber.
He slipped out of bed and was just putting on his hose, when there came a knock on the door. Frowning, he went to open it. It was Owain. "Why dost thou disturb me at this hour?" he demanded.
Owain shuffled uncomfortably. "Thy wife is attempting to climb down the side of the castle, milord. I thought thou shouldst know."
"Climbing down the…" His jaw dropped. Arabella was actually climbing down the castle walls. What was she thinking? "Wait but a moment for me to dress. Dost thou know her position?"
"Aye, on the south wall."
He threw on his clothing in lightning speed and was out of the door, following after Owain in moments. He knew she would try and escape again, but to actually put her life in danger was preposterous.
* * *
Arabella licked her lips. They were as dry as parchment. She was half way down or half way up, depending on which way you looked at it. A bubble of hysteria threatened to erupt, but she quashed it. She unknowingly echoed her husband's thoughts: what was she thinking? Her hands were smarting, from hanging onto the rope, and she was close to tears. Well, she had no choice now but to climb the rest of the way down. Either that, or stay stuck in the middle and wait to be rescued–although the rescue would just take her straight back to being
Hunching low to remain undetected, she moved along towards the place she had decided would be the best to make her descent. None of it would be easy, but on this side of the castle, the ground was a little higher due to a rocky outcrop at the bottom. She placed the rope on the ground and went to uncoil it. As she did so she heard footsteps approaching. Quick as lightning she flattened herself against the wall, bringing the rope and bag with her. If the guard saw her now, then her escape plan was history. So was her backside, for that matter, when John found out. She held her breath hoping and praying he wouldn't see her.
Luck was on her side, though, for he suddenly turned around and went back the way he had come. Arabella released the breath she'd been holding and almost went light headed with relief. Lord, that had been close! She didn't know or care what had made him change direction, she was just thankful that he had.
When she was certain he had gone, she popped her head over the parapet and looked down. She could just make out the rocks below in the dim moonlight. Throwing the rope around the nearest turret, she tied it tightly twice to make sure it would hold her weight and then cautiously dangled the rest of the length down the side of the wall. Well, it was now or never. The never seemed particularly appealing now she was actually here, but she knew she was going to have to find an inner strength if she was to make her getaway. Securing her bag around her shoulder and neck, and taking a deep breath, she climbed up onto the parapet and took hold of the rope, wrapping it around her body for support. She'd seen one of the castle guards do the very same thing when she'd lived with her father. The thought of her father made her blink back tears. She so very dearly wanted to see him. Once he knew who she was really married to, he would make certain that she never had to go back.
With renewed determination, she took the first step down the wall. The rope gave slightly at the top, and for a moment she thought it would give way, but it tautened and stayed strong. Bit by bit, she began the descent.
* * *
John was having trouble sleeping. Whatever position he put himself in, he couldn't get comfortable. He'd doze for a few minutes, and then his eyes would ping open again. He punched his feather pillow and nestled it under his head for the hundredth time. Closing his eyes, he settled down to try and sleep, but the harder he tried the more it evaded him. Frustrated, he sat up in bed and ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps if he took some fresh air, it would aid his slumber.
He slipped out of bed and was just putting on his hose, when there came a knock on the door. Frowning, he went to open it. It was Owain. "Why dost thou disturb me at this hour?" he demanded.
Owain shuffled uncomfortably. "Thy wife is attempting to climb down the side of the castle, milord. I thought thou shouldst know."
"Climbing down the…" His jaw dropped. Arabella was actually climbing down the castle walls. What was she thinking? "Wait but a moment for me to dress. Dost thou know her position?"
"Aye, on the south wall."
He threw on his clothing in lightning speed and was out of the door, following after Owain in moments. He knew she would try and escape again, but to actually put her life in danger was preposterous.
* * *
Arabella licked her lips. They were as dry as parchment. She was half way down or half way up, depending on which way you looked at it. A bubble of hysteria threatened to erupt, but she quashed it. She unknowingly echoed her husband's thoughts: what was she thinking? Her hands were smarting, from hanging onto the rope, and she was close to tears. Well, she had no choice now but to climb the rest of the way down. Either that, or stay stuck in the middle and wait to be rescued–although the rescue would just take her straight back to being
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