The Noble Life

Seventeen

"Catherine? Catherine, did you not hear what Mama said just now?"

"Sorry?"

It was a dull August afternoon around four months after Catherine's return to Warwick, and her spirits were about as cheerful as the drizzle outside. Catherine's brothers were home from school for the summer and driving the ladies to distraction, so Mr Taylor had decided to take them out for the day, giving Mrs Taylor and her daughters the chance to spend some quality time together. They were currently taking tea in the Donbroke sitting room - but not for the first time since her return from Somerset, Catherine had found herself unable to engage in their conversation, eventually drifting off into her own thoughts entirely.

"Mama was asking whether you would care for some more tea, Catherine," said Bessie now, raising a stern eyebrow at her sister.

"Forgive me, Mama," muttered Catherine, turning to her mother with a faint blush of embarrassment. "I was completely lost in thought and did not hear a word."

"That was plain to see," interjected Bessie.

"Now, Bessie," chided Mrs Taylor gently, before turning to her eldest daughter with an expression of motherly concern.

"You certainly did look lost in thought, dear – as you so often do these days. I wonder if you might unburden yourself a little by telling us what troubles you so."

Catherine's stomach clenched unpleasantly at her mother's words, and she averted her eyes hastily. How could she begin to explain the plethora of miserable thoughts occupying her mind? In her current heartbroken state Catherine had managed to convince herself that nobody could possibly understand the pain she was suffering, and so remained determinedly silent about her woes. If she could just try to stop thinking about him, she told herself, maybe the hurt might begin to go away.

If only things could be that simple.

"You are quite changed since returning from Broxcliffe Park," murmured Mrs Taylor with a heavy sigh.

"It is true," added Bessie sullenly. "You no longer seem to find pleasure in anything – not even playing the pianoforte!"

Of course Catherine no longer wished to play the pianoforte; the first time she had sat herself at the instrument since returning to Donbroke she had found herself overcome by a flurry of memories so painful she had been reduced to a tearful mess slumped at the keys. After that distressing experience Catherine vowed not to partake in any activity which might remind her of the person she wished to forget – only to find it proved far more difficult than she had anticipated, since everything seemed to form a connection with him.

So, defeated, exhausted and utterly miserable, Catherine had found herself retreating into a cold shell of numbness, displaying a general apathy towards life in order to pretend that she did not care about the man who had broken her heart. But from her mother's anguished expression, she was not to be convinced – and in all honesty, Catherine was hardly even convincing herself.

"Are you perfectly sure nothing happened during your stay at Broxcliffe Park to upset you?" pressed Mrs Taylor. "I trust my brother cared for you well?"

"My uncle treated me with perfect kindness, Mama," replied Catherine exasperatedly. "He ensured that my every need was seen to; in particular when Bessie was so ill."

"Then perhaps someone else upset you?" continued Mrs Taylor relentlessly. "You will forgive me for prying, Catherine, but I am your mother, and I wish to make sense of what could have possibly happened to bring about such a drastic change in your character. I only want to help you, my dear, for it grieves me to see you so melancholy."