She ran towards the arched stone door, her mouth forming an “O” of surprise as she realized that she was in the high turret of an ocean side castle. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. "Shall I help you on with it, Sir?" replied the Jew, becoming suddenly respectful. This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open. There would be no moon.
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