“Oh,” Prudence felt deflated. She turned to glance out of the window and saw that the sun was already well in the sky. “If I were to walk could I arrive by nightfall?” she asked.
The barkeep held one finger to the tip of his nose while he thought.
“Perhaps ya should wait ‘til mornin,'” he offered.
“I’d rather not wait another moment, if it can be helped,” she revealed. “If you think it can be done, please point me in the proper direction, and I shall go.”
“I ought ter say no,” he shrugged, “but ya look like a sturdy enough gal for it. Ya got a strong pair of boots on them feet of yours?”
Prudence shifted her feet beneath her gown. She was wearing her best walking boots in preparation for the journey but they were still made more for fashion than crossing the countryside. Another product of her London advice, she mused sadly.
“Of course,” she lied. Prudence did not care if she had to climb barefoot up a mountainside if it meant getting to the Abbey before darkness fell upon her. She was road weary and ready to be free of her burdens, if that were at all possible.
The man narrowed his eyes. For a moment she worried that he might call her bluff, but it seemed that he decided to allow her to make her own bed, if she so wished it.
“Well,” he nodded, “my daughters are brawny girls so I learned not ta expect less from a woman. It’s not a trek for the weak but I see you’ll not be swayed.” He explained that she should follow the main road to the end of the village. Then, she should take the fork in the road to the left. Once she came to the bridge she’d have to find a more shallow place to ford, but the road led straight to the Abbey if she just stayed upon it.
“Don’ go to the right or you’ll end up in the Baron’s Wood,” he warned. “It’s mighty easy to get turned around in the woods. We might not find ya ‘till Michaelmas since we’ve no way ‘o knowin’ if you didna get to the Abbey, what with the road out and all.”
She thanked the barkeep and offered him her last coin. The rugged man, who could scare the leather off a cow, let his shoulders droop as he looked upon her extended hand.
“Keep it, miss,” he gave a soft grin. “If nothin’ else, give it to the sisters up where you’re goin’. They’ve done a world a good for this village. That’s to be sure.” Prudence realized that there was more heart in him than met the eye. She folded her hand back around the last coin to her name, tears welling in her eyes at such a simple kindness.
With a croaked word of thanks she left the tavern and made her way toward the edge of the village.
For a moment, she almost felt a hope that her faith might be renewed in humanity. Then, she recalled why she had found herself in the tavern in the first place, and she cursed the world of men, mostly her father and her husband. Then she bit her tongue and asked forgiveness. She should not go to the holy sisters with a curse in her mouth.
“If only you would take them both, Lord,” She prayed. “I do not wish harm upon them, for that would be ungodly. I only wish they were in Your Presence rather than mine. I am too weak to suffer them.”
The Countess and the Baron ~ Prudence
by Isabella Thorne
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