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WHEN TOMMY INTERRUPTED HER HALFWAY THROUGH her morning cup of tea, and asked for help with something business related, Caterina hardly expected to find herself in the car, speeding out of Birmingham and into countryside of the Warwickshire before the sun fully emerged on the horizon.
She leant on her hand, elbow propped up by the window of Tommy's favourite Daimler, trying to get as much countryside air in her lungs as possible.
As much as she lived for the city she was born in; its thick layer of dust that accumulated on every surface if left out long enough; the incessant buzz of the factories and the workers that rang beneath her window – she failed to fall asleep if there was no noise coming from the half open window in her room. Tommy accepted it begrudgingly, the chill from the window serving as an excuse to pull her closer against him – but, as of late she felt the pull of the green plains seeping into her mind.
The stress and exhaustion of work was getting to her, she concluded, and the fresh smells and visions calmed her senses, even for a short while. It was a silly thing to dream of, even a short rest from the dynamics of their everyday life was an impossible feat. The two of them, they were built to burn incessantly, with no rest against the rising storms, up until their flame is extinguished and collapsed.
"Where are we going, anyway?"
"You'll be seeing in a moment."
Seconds later, the scenery changed from tree-littered countryside into a sea of greenery, stretching far and wide, covering Warwickshire with a comforting blanket. Ahead of them rose a manor, even from a distance an impressive sight. The road that led to it ran smooth, flanked by low bushes of subtly coloured flowers.
Caterina gave a low whistle of appreciation, craning her neck to take a better look at the imposing structure in front of them. "This is quite the house, Mr Shelby. Are we on debt collecting duty today?"
It was quite old-fashioned these days, to deliver warnings in person. Very few dared to defy the Shelby's now that their reputation seeped into every corner of England, and thus it was most painless to simply pay your due whenever the devil came to collect it.
"Something like that," he replied, in a veiled manner that made her unlatch her eyes from the magnificent house to his side profile.
She had seen little of him for the past few weeks, always rotating between the business in the capital and Birmingham while she busied herself with running the legal side of the company, and trying to patch up her own. There was still no word about the whereabouts of either her father and his councillors, or her shrivelled, spoiled brother.
"What do you think about the courtyard?" His questions snapped her out of her musings. High hedges flanked the sides of the building, hiding the surely expansive grounds behind it. Her eyes latched easily on the columns – Ionic, she thought back fondly on May's lecture on Greek architecture – and the rows upon rows of wide balconies, and windows covered by drapery.
