She stood on the steps a moment with her hands pushed into the pockets of her jeans. The sun was shining. A light breeze swayed the Spanish moss on the trees and sent a soft rustling through the leaves of the dark green ceiling overhead. She frowned. It was one thing to make up her mind, but some-thing else to act on the decision. She had awakened well into the morning. It seemed she had benefited from her enforced, dreamless sleep. Rested, if not refreshed, she had lain for some time thinking, endlessly mulling over what had taken place in these last few days. She had come to a few conclusions, none of them comforting. First, she thought her failure to win her freedom was largely her own fault. She had let fear and the prospect of immediate freedom push her into hasty, ill-considered action. She would have been much better off to have waited, gaining Charles’s confidence as originally planned, biding her time until his guard was down. As it was, she had only increased his wariness. It would take time to recoup the lost ground.
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