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Chapter Twenty-Four
Wisely and slow; they stumble that runfast.
—Shakespeare,Romeo and Juliet
Catherine fell tothe floor, pulling out the chamber pot just in time. She had not eaten since breakfast, so there was little relief in the dry heaves. Her arms wrapped around her waist, she sat rocking. Nicholas had been…he was… She could not finish the thought. She’d believed they could bridge the gulf, but it seemed she was wrong. He did not need her in any way.
Pain ripped across her stomach, and she toppled onto her side. The dank smell of the wool rug mixed with the stale smell of the pot that sat inches from her nose. How had it come to this? That he could hold another when she was but a door away? He knew the truth, knew she had not abandoned him for love of Daniel. At least, not the kind of love he had presumed. Yet he allowed another woman into his chambers. To…to… She pulled her knees tight to her chest.
She needed to get away, far away, from him. But she was his wife now. Would always be. Although, he’d made it clear in the past few weeks that he did not need her by his side, and it would now seem, he did not even require her in his bed. Her last hope of a hold on him had disappeared with those lusty ministrations by the maid.
He did not need her. Did not want her. She could not undo the marriage, but she refused to sit idly by and suffer endless humiliation. Let him keep a slew of doxies. She would not stand witness to it. There was still someone who loved her, someone who would care that she lived, felt, hurt.
She sat up, glancing at the shadows in the room. A single candle burned on the mantel. She ran her hands down the flimsy nightgown she’d donned, foolishly believing she would be soothing Nicholas this night, that he would have need of her care and body.
Her legs shook when she stood, and she took a moment to steady herself. Numbing calm began to suffocate the hurt. She did not deserve this and would not stand for it. Sudden decisiveness renewed her strength, and she marched to the bellpull. She would not wait; she had no wish to see the smug face of the maid in the morning.I am always ready to care for my lord, no matter the hour.If she had not witnessed that spectacle herself, she would not have believed it. While she knew the foibles of others, she had never doubted Nicholas’s integrity. It seemed she never really knew any of the men in her life.
Sadie tapped, then entered, glancing around the room, no doubt looking for Nicholas. Catherine was surprised to see her so quickly. She must not have settled in for the night, for she was in full dress.
“I was just about to have a warm milk with Cook,” Sadie said by way of explanation, straightening her cap. She spotted the chamber pot, and her eyes narrowed. She darted to Catherine’s side. “Oh, Miss Baring…my lady…what ails you?”
Catherine fought the urge to surrender to a sympathetic ear, but this could not become the gossip of the servants. At least, not through her. No doubt that maid would be busy spreading rumors.
“I’m not myself and have a strong desire to return home. To be with my father.”
If Sadie was shocked, she did not show it. “I will see everything ready for the morning.”
“No. Now.”
This time, Sadie could not hide the surprise.
“Please help me get dressed. You can come back tomorrow for my things.”
Sadie moved to the fireplace, lit a candle off the one flickering its meager light, then ducked into the dressing room. Catherine paced, trying to quell any second thoughts.
Sadie reentered with an armful of clothing and laid the pile on the bed. “Are you sure, my lady?”
She could only nod. Half an hour later, they stood in the atrium.
“I shall get Fredericks to get the carriage ready,” Sadie said.
“No, we’ll walk.”
Sadie stared at her, plainly thinking Catherine had lost her mind.
She squeezed the girl’s arm. “It will clear my head. I could go through these woods blindfolded. You know that.”
Sadie’s smile was sad. “Yes, miss, many a night you have wandered it. I thought those days were done.”
“As did I.” Catherine looked at the imposing front door. Through it lay her past and now, once again, her future. She pivoted and headed down the hallway, toward the kitchens. “Let us say goodbye to Nan. I cannot leave here without a word to her.”
Nan still sat in the chair before the embers in the grate, her knitting resting on her lap, the soft sounds of her breathing filling the empty room. A lone candled flickered on the table, soon to extinguish in the puddle of wax. Catherine could not wake the old woman. She worked so hard and deserved her rest. Catherine could not resist a light kiss against Nan’s hair. Nan always smelled of fresh bread. Catherine would miss her, but she could visit discreetly. She blinked back tears.
“You be careful out there in the dark.”
Catherine covered Nan’s hand with her own. “I will. I’ll be back to see you.”
“He loves you, child. Don’t doubt that.”
