The ship docked in the twilight hour. I have convinced myself that I watched that very vessel pull into port from the window facing the sea, but so many came and went as I sat admiring the landscape, that I cannot be sure. A knock at my door lifted me to my feet and I opened the door to find a young man, dressed in the clothing of a ship's hand, his arm extended with an envelope laying in his hand. I smiled and thanked him, completely unaware of its origin. I returned to the window and used the dwindling light to see from whence the letter came and my heart stopped: "Massachussets," I spoke aloud.

Every fiber of my being shouted out for me to open the letter and see what news was brought from the colonies, but something in me stayed my hand from doing so. I turned, quickly and made haste to the square to see if Signore Stern was anywhere about. I found myself quite often seeking his perspective and well-balanced advice when in La Rocca; he would know what should be done.

I found him standing outside the tavern, and quickly curtsied, showing him the letter in my trembling hand, asking him for his counsel, and he wisely suggested we go to his office to learn what might be detailed within, for it would be best to know, than to suppose. He ushered me into his office and sat silently, at his desk, and the gravity of such a dispatch settled upon me. I knew that no matter the tidings, there would be a great amount of change, yet again, in my every-day life. Finally summoning the courage to slip the sharp opener into the envelope, I sliced across and opened the letter, my eyes seeking out one sentence in particular, and there it was...

"...regret to inform you that the Baron left this earth on....."

We discussed the potential for myself to be sole heir of the Baron's fortune, and the unlikelihood of his being in any real debt and it was suggested that I ask my father's solicitor to see to the matters of the Baron's will. There were so many intricacies to death that I had not imagined. I was very grateful to have Signore Stern to guide me through the landscape.

Time seemed to speed up, suddenly. I was packed and aboard a ship, then back to England in a carriage before my mind could digest what had happened, as the sun peeked over the horizon. I arrived at the manor, and before doing anything else, saw to my black being put in order. I chose an appropriate gown and gathered the servants to tell them the news; the Baron's old servants were visibly upset and I found a duty in consoling them gently, despite our unhappy beginning. So much to see to, even without a body laid out in the parlor, that it was nearly nightfall before I knew it, and after a small meal, I went for my evening walk.

I stretched my neck as I walked, the warm breeze cooling as it blew across the surface of Ardingly Lake, and I finally made it around to my friends, the lions on the fountain, before the sun fully set. I looked up, watching the sky transform from blue to pink and orange and smiled, then looking down into the fountain's base to see my reflection: a pale and travel-weary young woman, dressed in black, wavering as the water's surface was churned from the spigots' endless stream. Beyond the image, a small coin lay alone in the water.

Quite suddenly, I was overcome with emotion. It seemed that I had been a prisoner all of my life; to the honor of my name, to the wishes of my parents, to the expectations of society, or most recently (and thankfully short-lived) a coarse and crude husband. And here I was on the threshold of the cage whose door had just been opened, and like so many kept in captivity I simply stood there, unable to step through.