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Rated: E · Short Story · Experience · #1291809
set in the 19th century
“Leave me be George! Leave me be!” The high pitched squeal and staccato of heels on timber were followed by a hard, ringing slap. Cornered against the bedroom wall, the woman’s fear overpowered her anger.
“You are my wife Catherine! I am your husband! Do not dare deny me!” Catching the woman’s arm, the man threw her on the bed and stalked towards her. “You first attempt to embarrass me by making fun of me in the presence of those whose respect I require in society, and now you disregard your duty as my wife and say ‘no’?!” A broad hand pushed the woman down as she made a half-hearted attempt to escape once more.
“No Catherine, that simply will NOT do!” 1

Heaving sobs echoed through the spacious room and the long corridor outside. Servants turned away from the Master’s bedroom door and the Lady’s shrieks, and one quick maid pretending to be a hungry wolf, chased the children out into the courtyard before they had the chance to comprehend what the sounds were. 2

“Stop! Please!” The cries ceased only when a heavy fist connected with Catherine’s head and unconsciousness silenced her. 3

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For many a year, daily routine remained ever constant at Heathcote; in the evenings Mr. Maldowe would return home in a drunken stupor, his wife following one step behind as serene and angelic, the wont of any proper lady, vigilant and prepared to catch his arm should he lose his wavering balance. Not one of the three children could rest before the arrival of their mother, yearning for her kiss and assurance that no fiend would hurt them in the darkness once the candle was snuffed out.
The days would comprise of Mr. Maldowe going about his business neither his children nor his wife were informed about. It was nothing of consequence as neither Catherine nor her sister would have understood such matters had the effort been made to explain it to them.
Mrs. Maldowe in her modest-cut sky-blue gown would often sit in her padded chair by the hearth, encouraging her children to play the piano forte, sing, and perform poetry and little plays for her as she sewed and embroidered. Of course, Master Benjamin did not remain at home with his mother and sisters for very long. 5

“All young ladies should be literate,” Miss Elizabeth the children’s governess, told Margaret and Catherine, clapping her petite hands.
“Why cannot we go to school like Benjamin mama? I would very much like to read and learn as much as is possible. To be learned and understand politics.” Catherine had once exclaimed, waving a book in her hand.
“School? My dear Catherine, what ever for? Only boys attend school and your knowledge of the world will be sufficient if you take care and listen to me during these lessons.”
“Governesses mama, they earn a living like a man and are ever so learned. They learn in boarding schools, I see the girls every Sunday mama on our walk to church...”
Mrs. Maldowe glanced from window to Miss. Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, please leave us for a time and tell Anne to prepare our luncheon” Turning back to her daughters, she adjusted her bonnet and skirt. “But you are not orphans. Nor are you daughters to a common man unable to care for his wife and children. Governesses rarely marry, destined to remain spinsters serving the types of wealthy men I wish I will one day see the both of you wed... A lady must never hunger for knowledge so much that she should intimidate the men around her” Mrs. Maldowe had replied sternly, a warning to both girls, “but an intelligent woman will always be held in higher esteem than one who is not, therefore you are taught the skills of literacy and numeracy. Read all that you desire but my dears, do not let the love of reading prevent you from being an agreeable young lady to wealthy suitors. You must present yourself as a capable wife…no respectable man would seek the hand of a woman who would question his every word and rather read philosophy than care for her house, husband and children.”
“Then I shall never marry.” That single statement from the young girl of twelve was heresy to Mrs. Maldowe’s ears.
“Not marry out of choice and remain a spinster?” Mrs. Maldowe pursed her perfect lips as her demeanour turned from her usual serene, warm disposition to that of the stern school mistresses that had vexed Benjamin so. Mrs. Maldowe adjusted her pleated skirt and placed perfectly manicured hands in her lap.
“This will be the end of this subject. You are still young Catherine and have not yet absorbed the significance of the life that you lead. Not marry indeed. You may not be out but you best not make this insufferable desire public, especially in the presence of your father.”6


Seasons passed and Catherine, after many similar heated debates with her mother, opted to keep her desires private, finding that in time she no longer spoke with the same conviction she once had. How could a lady of such privilege ever want to give up her comfortable living to work for another? This question had of late become more prominent in Catherine’s mind. To be sure, she enjoyed her independence, and yet she did not hold such pride in it, that she would walk away from high society, the latest fashions and the divine chance of having and caring for a husband and children. 7

Not long before she turned one and twenty, Heathcote was called upon by Mr. George Newbury, a wealthy man who prided himself on his status and wealth. Catherine had not the ability to remain impartial to Mr. Newbury, charmed by his laughing blue eyes and dark wavy hair.8

“How could I have ever been so daft and not wanted to marry? Incapable to feel impartial to any man indeed.”
“I beg your pardon Miss Maldowe?”
Catherine turned to Mr. Newbury a bewildered expression stark on her elegant face. Had she spoken aloud?
“I did not speak a word, sir.” She replied, glancing at his face only long enough for it to be proper, before casting her eyes downwards.
“I was sure-“ He started but seemed to change his mind, “Of course, my lady, I must be delusional in the presence of such beauty.” The smile that spread across the perfectly sculptured face as he placed a kiss on her gloved hand turned Catherine’s cheeks pink. 9


“I am off to tend business with Mr. Charleston and I know not when I will be due to return. Late into the evening I expect.” Donning his top hat, Mr. Newbury exited the room glancing back only once at the broken figure he left behind.10

The oak door clicked shut and she was left alone. Catherine’s will shattered, and bitter tears streamed down her bruised face. The warm spring afternoon sun washed through the open widow but gave no peace to the one blinded by tears. Catherine curled herself into a ball and wept, cursing the man who had bewitched her with his wit and charm. Where had the young woman who valued her independence gone? She who had vowed to never marry and stood up for herself?11

“She was raped and murdered, thrown into the slums like a common whore, where all of those whom dared defy the word of the strong are disposed of. Now in her stead stands a broken woman bound by fear…a fear she had not counted on on marrying.” She croaked roughly, wiping away her tears.12

Moving to sit upright, forcing aching limbs to obey her wishes, Catherine moved to dress herself. Forcing herself to gaze into the looking glass, she cleaned her blood-crusted lip with a damp cloth, powdered her face to conceal any damage done and called for her maid.13

“Madeline!”
“Yes ma’am?”
“Help me dress, Madeline.” 14

The two women shared a knowing glance before Madeline moved to assist Catherine into her bodice and extravagant dress, and fetched her bonnet from atop the mantelpiece.15

“I must leave Madeline. I must remove my children from this house. I must- but where to?” Gently guiding her Lady to a seat, Madeline combed Catherine’s dishevelled golden hair and began to curl the strands at her brow.
“I shall go to my sister Margaret’s home. I shall be welcomed there and she lives but ten miles away…it should not take too long at all by carriage.” Catherine mused as she turned her head, “I need you to prepare a carriage for me and the children immediately, I beg of you miss, tell no-one of this expedition.”16

The maids had the children dressed, fed and prepared for the journey. The glorious afternoon seemed to laugh at Catherine’s misfortune. What outings she had shared with the young Mr. Newbury. Spring picnics and walks through lush meadows seemed to pave the path to a fairy tale ending.17

Standing by the large carriage, Catherine glanced at the distance ever vigilant. “Caroline, William hurry along children.” Helping her youngest board, Catherine gestured towards Madeline before securing her bonnet.
“When Mr. Newbury returns, speak not a word. Give him only this.” Catherine whispered, concealing a letter in Madeline’s hand. “He will, no doubt, guess well at where I am headed but I seek peace in the hope that the letter may calm him.”18


“Why am I NOT greeted by my wife?” Mr. Newbury’s voice boomed through the house in a near-drunken slur. “Do I warrant no appreciation from the household for which I deliver only the finest?”
Moving silently down the hallway nervous and tentative, Madeline could not but take one step back on seeing the Master, hand clenching and unclenching around his cane. 19

“Sir?” Madeline silently addressed her master and curtseyed, not daring to glance up at the eyes burning into her. “If you will follow me to the drawing room sir, I have something of importance to give to you sir.”20

Roughly shrugging off his over-coat, Mr. Newbury followed the maid down the lamp-lit corridor into the spacious drawing room, and seated himself in the large padded chair situated by the window left ajar. 21

“What is it that you have to present me?” Madeline held out the envelope and curtseyed, taking her leave.22


Not a full day had passed since Catherine’s arrival at Mitchelton before George Newbury darkened the door. Voices reached Catherine, who remained in her room, of Mr. Newbury conversing rather loudly with her sister, Mrs. Masters. 23

“She has written me a letter of quite some significance. Said she will be leaving me and that I should not seek her out as she would not return to Heatherfield Park. I could only assume she has come here for refuge.”
“I assure you-”
“Papa!”24

The children’s voices disallowed the continuation of any pretence, and Mrs. Masters had no choice but to reply in all honesty.25

“She is here sir but she has left you-“
“She has left me and I have no obligation to seek her out I am aware however, my children are under my custody and so I shall be taking them. If she wishes not to see me so be it, but she has no right to take my children from me. Good day Mrs. Masters.”26

Catherine ran to the door of the room and rushed to her children for one final adieu. She embraced her children and did not want to leave them. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as her children gazed up at her unaware of her inner turmoil or why she wept so. Kneeling on the floor she was forced to look upwards at the sound of Mr. Newbury’s voice.
“Catherine, I do not wish to divorce, how could you? Think of what will be said? Could you present your face in church every Sunday from this day forth? I assure you I could not.” With that, he turned on his heel and led his children towards his carriage and left.27

Looking off into the distance after the carriage, Catherine had no intention of returning, caring not for the consequences that may ensue.28

A week however, without her children and tea parties that seemed endless at her sister’s home took a toll on Catherine. Women she had never previously met were already aware of her situation and did not attempt to conceal their contempt for her or her actions.29

“You left your husband? And your children? Never could I respect any woman who would neglect those in her care...under what circumstances did you choose to leave madam?”
“I would prefer to not speak of this Mrs. Stevens, if you would be so kind as to question me no further on the matter.”30

The accusations were endless and Mr. Masters was beginning to tire from the eyes cast down at him for boarding a visitor. The ache in Catherine’s heart became too much for her and the infinite questioning stripped her bare. 31

Against all her prior conviction of having the strength to remain independent, Catherine found herself sitting in a carriage, waving her sister and brother-in-law good-bye. She was returning home, and saving her reputation from the gallows.32

Poena ut unus quisnam defies. Pain to the one who defies.
© Copyright 2007 VaMpIrIcAlLy TaInTeD (bittersweet101 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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