Denford Hall

Chapter 3

I
CATHERINE WAS ALONE.  Sitting on the window seat in her bedroom, she was engrossed in a book.  Her auburn hair, pulled up simply in a bun, was shining—that same early summer sun, now a little higher in the sky, shone softly upon it.
  She seemed intent upon reading, for her dark brown eyes hardly strayed from looking intently on the small words.  But once or twice during this position she would glance up, and looking out upon the woody landscape she would gaze out at the different movements of a flock of tiny birds, twittering and hopping on the branches of birch trees.  Then she would look back down and begin reading once more, and those brown eyes would fix themselves excitedly upon the words before her. 
Now she looked up, for she heard the sound of carriage wheels upon the flagstones.  As it drove up and stopped in front of Denford Hall, her brother stepped out.  She gave a small squeal of delight and closed the book; watched as he walked toward the house, then put the book down and flew down the stairs.

“Andrew!” she cried as she landed at the bottom, a smile brightening her face.  “How good it is to see you here,” she said.
“Why, Kit, are you all right?” her brother said in reply, “Your cheeks are flushed and you are out of breath.” No sullen attitude possessed his face; on the contrary, it was replaced by his usual care-free smirk.
“Oh, I had some needed exercise down the stairs, when I saw you were home.  I am always happy when you return.”  She smiled bashfully, but then said playfully, “You are home unusually before your time!”
“And what of it?” he said as he grinned mischievously and followed her into the sitting room.

II
As soon as the favored brother and his sister entered, a small gasp of delight escaped from Elizabeth, who sat with Emma and her mother.
“You are home early,” Lady Emma remarked quietly, but a smile took possession of her handsome face. 
Andrew sighed and sat rudely on the sofa beside her.  “Do you mind?”
“Andrew!”  Catherine cried in a whisper, but she giggled quietly in spite of herself as she looked at the smirk on his face.
Their mother sighed, but otherwise ignored the disrespectful remark.  “Were you successful at anything in town?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, mother—” he replied, a playful smile playing round his lips all the while, “—I arrived there safely.”
The joke was recognized by two giggles escaping the lips of his younger sisters.  Lady Emma glanced toward them reprovingly before answering, “very well, Andrew,” she said, “what did you do in town, pray?  My question was directed toward the successfulness of your business.”
“Humph!” was the reply; “it was a slow day; so I returned early.”  He cast a swift glance at Catherine, who sat sewing quietly.  An impish smile still lingered upon his handsome features.
At that moment Sir Charles joined the party, and upon seeing his son home well before expected, he inquired.  Catherine could not help smiling at the ridiculousness of the situation, and watched her brother’s face as it assumed scornful recognition.
“I am sure my mother or Kit would be able to furnish you with that information,” he said, rising.  “I will see you at supper.”  And walking steadfastly to the door, he left the room.
  Silently Sir Charles went to his wife, greeted her with a kiss, and sat down.  The matter was not spoken a word of, and so was discretely forgotten about.

The family took dinner at seven thirty, and afterwards moved to the balcony to enjoy the soft evening air.  It was situated on the second story of the large mansion, with ivy climbing up toward the railing along the old stone walls, as if reaching it were its goal and destination.
Upon this night, Andrew was as jovial as ever.  He had put his silly attitude away for the moment, and proposed a walk with one of his sisters among the trees and gardens.  To this Catherine eagerly came forward; so the two made their way down to the first floor, and out again into the crisp evening air.
The sun had set less than ten minutes ago, so that there lingered in the skies a grand wave of pink and blue.  The air was perfect; a soft breeze blew, not too cold or hot: it made its way among the trees and rustled their leaves.  The soft murmur added to the loveliness of the evening; and Catherine, walking beside her brother, whom she felt the world for, felt that nothing could ever go wrong at this rate.  Even so, she felt, in the innermost part of her soul, a little pang of remorse: uneasiness for her brother’s frequent disrespectful attitude toward their parents.  But this, she kept where it belonged; she would not allow it to interfere when she was spending one of the loveliest evenings of her young life.
Andrew looked toward her as she walked deep in reverie.  The light wind flowed through her hair, and made the loose curls fly gently to and fro as long as they were allowed.  Her cheeks were rosy and her dark eyes brilliant, as they gazed straight up into the sky, at the crescent moon which shed its gentle light upon her womanlike face.
“Kit?” He broke in upon her thoughts.  “What are you thinking?”
At the sound of his voice, she quickly looked back down, awaken from her musing.
“Oh,” she said wistfully, “I was thinking of how wonderful the night is… how perfect everything seems to be.”
At these words, something like a pang of compunction shot through the brother’s heart.  But he chose not to heed it.
“Ah,” was all he said as he nodded and looked away; and they continued strolling.  They stayed below and about the balcony, for it was fast growing dark, and the rooms above them were lighted brilliantly.  Catherine could distinguish the silhouettes of her sisters, Emma and Elizabeth sitting in lawn chairs, breathing in the night air, occasionally picking up their embroidery and sewing a few stitches; for the night air was luring and kept them locked in its spell before they were aware of it.  Lady Emma sat in a dream, her hand enveloped in her husband’s, gazing out before her into the spring night and taking heed of nothing else besides the beautiful landscape.

It all seemed as if everyone and everything was at peace… nothing could be wrong, no wars could possibly be raging anywhere in the world.  Catherine smiled a satisfied smile, gazing up into her brother’s handsome face as he walked alongside her.
Little could she guess what was to come to pass in less than twenty-four hours.™