Monday, November 20, 2006
New Beginning 159
Annis leaned on the windowsill and swore, yelling so loudly she prompted birds into flight and the gardener into dropping his wheelbarrow. She slammed the window shut, confining her temper, and began to prepare for Rosalind’s betrothal dinner.
No man in Christendom would consider marrying a girl who could throw a dagger into an apple at 20 paces, nine times out of ten. Nor would they wed a wench who owned a sword. Unless perhaps it was Excalibur. But Annis knew the reason for her spinsterhood was her complete lack of a dowry. She kicked the wall, averting her gaze from the glass of wine on the windowsill. It would be easy to succumb, to take a few sips to fortify herself against the stares and whispers. She moved back and picked up her comb.
By the time Annis had forced her hair into what she hoped was a flattering style, she changed her mind and reached for the glass. She emptied it in one neat swallow and poured herself another. Not only would it help her to forget the stares and whispers, but it would add some flattering colour to her cheeks.
A dowry, a dowry . . . How was she to come by a dowry?
By the fourth glass a glance in the mirror showed not only that her cheeks were a becoming shade of pink, but that her hair now looked more like soft ringlets than her usual snaky Medusa-like locks.
Who wanted a dowry anyway? Why throw away all this beauty on some white-wigged, fat-bellied fool like Rosalind's betrothed?
She opened her window and leant out to call the gardener. It was time to play with Excalibur again.
Opening: Emma.....Continuation: McKoala