07-13-2025, 02:47 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-14-2025, 05:58 PM by Catherine Ennington.)
It was a good thing that Catherine had a project to occupy her. Her mother, driven to despair by grey skies, cold winds and a lack of interesting society, had gone to stay with family in Brussels and had taken Catherine’s older sister, Diana, with her. Catherine herself was deemed too frail to travel, much to her chagrin. She was not particularly close to her siblings, but with all of them away in Brussels or at school or university, and with only the servants and occasionally her father for company, Saltwick View felt lonelier than ever, even after a only few days. They would not be back until Christmas.
She took the trouble of dressing for dinner even when her father was out, just so that Sarah would have to keep her company for longer. And then she would fuss more excessively than usual.
“Really, Miss Catherine. There’s nobody there to judge you.”
“There’s the servants.”
“Why don’t I bring you a tray in your room? You should not trouble yourself too much, remember? Anyway, you’ll be far more comfortable here than down in that dining room by yourself.”
Ignoring the suggestion and studying her own reflection critically: “I don’t think you parted my hair evenly, see?” Her index finger drawing a line from her nose, over her forehead and stopping a millimetre to the left from where her hair was parted.
And, exasperated, Sarah would start her work over. It wasn’t only Catherine who breathed a sigh of relief when Thursday night came.
A disgruntled Jared had picked Ellie up from Whitby. He had given her a cynical glance that might have been missed in the under the flickering light of the street lanterns, but other than that, he kept his misgivings to himself, along with any other conversation. Ellie was once again brought around the house, but once inside she was led into one of the main corridors and shown to the parlour.
Catherine was already there, talking to a dark haired, middle aged woman in a fashionable lilac dress. She looked up when Ellie entered.
“There you are, Ellie. I hope the rain wasn’t too bad? Miss Bellini, may I present Miss Eleanor Russell? Ellie, Miss Bellini is my sister’s singing teacher.”
She took the trouble of dressing for dinner even when her father was out, just so that Sarah would have to keep her company for longer. And then she would fuss more excessively than usual.
“Really, Miss Catherine. There’s nobody there to judge you.”
“There’s the servants.”
“Why don’t I bring you a tray in your room? You should not trouble yourself too much, remember? Anyway, you’ll be far more comfortable here than down in that dining room by yourself.”
Ignoring the suggestion and studying her own reflection critically: “I don’t think you parted my hair evenly, see?” Her index finger drawing a line from her nose, over her forehead and stopping a millimetre to the left from where her hair was parted.
And, exasperated, Sarah would start her work over. It wasn’t only Catherine who breathed a sigh of relief when Thursday night came.
A disgruntled Jared had picked Ellie up from Whitby. He had given her a cynical glance that might have been missed in the under the flickering light of the street lanterns, but other than that, he kept his misgivings to himself, along with any other conversation. Ellie was once again brought around the house, but once inside she was led into one of the main corridors and shown to the parlour.
Catherine was already there, talking to a dark haired, middle aged woman in a fashionable lilac dress. She looked up when Ellie entered.
“There you are, Ellie. I hope the rain wasn’t too bad? Miss Bellini, may I present Miss Eleanor Russell? Ellie, Miss Bellini is my sister’s singing teacher.”
