Bound To Bea

Chapter Forty Two

Catherine was awakened by a searing headache that caused her teeth to clench. Wincing as she made to rise, her vision blurred and her limbs weakened, forcing her to collapse against the bed once more.

"My lady!" someone gasped, touching her arm. "Please, don't rise."

Through her blurred vision, she saw the distorted image of a woman.

"What happened?" She groaned, placing her elbow on the bed and attempting to rise once more. With much effort, she barely succeeded in rising to a sitting position before she was forced to lean her head against the headboard. Her new position aided her vision, for the images became clearer and she could now see the face of the young maid who stood before her with her hands clasped.

"There was an accident, my lady," she said, her words triggering Catherine's memory. She instantly remembered the horrid sound of the carriage crashing and the fear that had gripped her heart as darkness draped over her like a blanket.

"And the footman?" She suspected it was as a result of the footman's drunkenness that there had been an accident in the first place, but she also knew she was to be blamed as well. If, given her knowledge of the footman's drunken state and the terrible weather, she hadn't insisted on paying Mrs Timothy a visit; if she hadn't stayed out all evening...

"Joseph died, my lady." The maid's voice clouded with her emotions. She sniffed, rubbing her eyes. It was then Catherine saw how puffy her gray eyes were.

"How?" she breathed, guilt washing over her.

"He broke his neck. The constable suspects he might have fallen asleep on the reins. They said he was likely drunk."

Catherine nodded. She knew he had been drunk when she insisted on going out; it was certainly her fault a man laid six feet under.

"Has Noah returned from London?"

"Yes, my lady. But he is not to be disturbed, for he is with Lady Camden."

Catherine scoffed, bitterness swirling in her heart toward Beatrice. It was obvious who Noah preferred, for it mattered not to him that his mother had suffered an accident that nearly took her life while claiming the life of another.

Furious, she staggered to her feet, gripping the bedpost.

"My lady, please lie down!"

"I shall see my son!" she hissed. She would see Noah, if only to give him a piece of her mind.

"Please, my lady. I shall inform my lord of your request, but my lord shall be displeased if your condition worsens like the Marchioness."

Catherine stared at her, confused. "The Marchioness? What ailment is she feigning to hoard Noah's affection and keep him away from me?"

"Here," the maid took her arm and helped her settle on the bed once more, "sit."

"Answer my question."

"My lady's ailment is no deception. She was brought in last evening as you were, and by this morning, her condition worsened. The physician fears she has developed an infection in her lungs."

Catherine shook her head, confused. "What do you mean? It makes no sense."

"After my lady went in search of you—"

Catherine gasped, sitting upright; a move that made her head swirl. She gripped the bedpost to stabilize herself.

"What do you mean she came in search of me?" she asked slowly, even if deep down she knew the answer.

"She was worried you were in danger when you failed to show up for dinner. She went out with the butler in search of you, and when they found you dying in the snow, she convinced the butler to take the horse and bring you home to safety. There was one horse, you see, and my lady was afraid she would be unable to ride the horse with an unconscious woman on top, so she put you on the horse with the butler."