5. The Laws of Propriety.

⁸Catherine

I spent the rest of yesterday at the shoreline, dipping my toes and taking my boat out to fish; only finding myself able to bare returning when the sun had began to set. It was late, and my mother was in a mean spirit; because how dare I risk my health by not eating, before such an auspicious day.

Sometimes, I think her to be utterly insane, and completely vacant of the mind when it comes to my pain. Logic dictates to me that I'm wrong in this, but right now, my emotional side is winning, and I swear I will never see her again if she makes me leave.

As it is, I haven't said two words to her since I returned. Nor did I open my door to allow her to help me dress and look my best as she calls it. I am determined, I will go there clean and in my best dress, but no more effort shall be made, and I will certainly not permit her to attempt to fuss at me in any way. The future Duke can take me as I am if I am to be his forced guest, or not at all, and hang anyone who has an issue with it.

It is almost noon and I'm feeling anxious, so I sneak out to the swing behind the barn. It is made of an old piece of wood hanging from two ropes which are attached to the sturdy branch of an old sycamore tree. My father made it for me when I was a child, and I smile as I remember how excited I was, and how my mother was clucking about, fretting over him falling and breaking his back while he climbed the thing. Everything was so much more simple in my youth.

Using my toes to push myself lightly back and forth, I memorize my surroundings, the vegetable plot is thriving this year, sewn well with rows of tatties, carrots, leeks, and cauliflowers. It should be abundant come the harvest and feed us all well through winter. We have bushes with berries, which are fruiting now and I must remember to eat a strawberry or two before I leave, they are always so sweet at this time of year. The apples are coming along nicely, as are the plums in their boughs. Though neither trees are ready for harvesting, it is still a contented feeling to watch them all grow. I lean back and stare up at the canopy of leaves above me and curse the longing that is brewing in my gut. I have never left home before, and I would rather not do so now. This morning I managed to complete my chores one last time, milking the goats and watering the garden before I was hurried away to become presentable, like already I do not belong here anymore. But, I do belong, for this is my home, yet I am stuck with reality, and forced to bend to the will of other's, others who claim devotion yet hurt me so.

I am still lamenting my situation, and pitying myself profusely when I spot it. I can't believe it, of all the places for one to be.

I am on my feet in an instant, all my previous thoughts drowned out by my new focus and I am left to vehemently curse the voluptuous nature of my skirts as I approach the tree trunk. Determined not to be deterred however, I awkwardly begin to climb, scratching the palms of my hands and my forearms on the bark of the tree on more than one occasion as I go. Mostly this is due to my blasted feet slipping out from under me, pushed outwards by this ridiculous dress, and by no means caused by my injured leg I protest to myself. But, higher and higher I still steadily climb, until I manage to loop my arm over a branch and secure myself in place at the object of my desire.

Then I look at her, at least I presume it's her, she has a feminine face.

"Now, what on earth is a kitten doing twenty foot up a tree?" I ask the mewling creature, while carefully reaching forward to grab her.

But, I pause briefly contemplating my descent, and how on earth I am supposed to manage it with just one arm, while I hold the poor creature. Sighing, I untie the cream coloured shawl from my shoulders, and rather miraculously neither do I drop it, but I also manage to lay it over the branch and manoeuvre the tiny animal onto it. My plan was to tie her to myself with the shawl and then descend. It seemed like the only logical solution.

However, nothing is that simple.

"Catherine!" My mother suddenly shrieks upon seeing where I am.

The fright her squawking gives me is enough to cause my grip on the tree to falter altogether and I fall, only just managing to pull the kitten against my body in an effort to protect her before we hit the ground.

Only we don't.

Hit the ground that is.

When I open my eyes the concerned face of Lord Edward Sorrell is looking down upon me, at this angle his auburn hair is creating a halo of sorts against the bright backdrop of the sky that is shining a dappled light through the trees upon us both.

"Now, I know we sprung this on you, Miss Innes, but surely there was no need to try and break your neck in retaliation?" He teased, seemingly pleased by the shocked look on my face. "Surely getting to know me is not such terrifying prospect?"

"Cathy, Cathy lass, what on earth were you thinking?" My father asks in his own panic, as he rushes towards us.

I am saved from answering them both, when a small tortoise shell face peeks out from the shawl in my arms and meows softly to everyone.

"Where on earth did you find... Wait, was it in the tree?" Lord Sorrell asks with a disbelieving smile.

I nod back at him, still somewhat confused while wondering if it would be rude to request he puts me down. I feel utterly ridiculous in his arms right now; laid like a doll in his grip as the three of them discuss the absurdity that there should be a lone kitten so high up a tree above me. Silently I am praying my father notices my discomfort and intervenes.

But naturally, he does not.

Eventually, between their chattering comments on how such a small kitten found itself up a tree, I give in and interrupt them.

"Lord Sorrell?" I begin hesitantly, as all eyes suddenly turn on me, "Thank you for catching me, you saved me an undoubtedly serious injury."

"You do not need to thank me, I had spotted you climbing upon our arrival, Miss Innes, but I was worried I would cause you to become distracted, if I were to call out," my mother went noticeably red at these words. "I am simply relieved you are unscathed." He smiled at me.

"Yes, exactly," I state, waiting for him to understand my hint. But, his arms remain secured about me, and again I realise he needs further prodding, "Lord Sorrell, you may put me down now, please."

"Oh right, yes." He states, a small frown appearing then fading almost as fast from his face.

I find his arms tightening uncomfortably about me, even as he acts flustered. Then I am set upon my feet, and facing my mother with a smirk, I can tell by the horrified look on her face my dress is somewhat ruined, and I would be lying if I said that did not give me some small sense of victory at the moment. But my attention is quickly drawn to the small wiggling creature in my arms. I gently unwrap the small thing, discovering it is merely skin and bone. Unsurprisingly really, since she was stuck up a tree. Thankfully though, there are no obvious wounds or ailments.

"Please excuse me a moment, Lord Sorrell. I must quickly fetch the poor thing something to eat," I state, neither asking for his permission nor caring to hear if he planned to object.

Then, I am entering the barn quickly, having left them to their own devices quite blatantly. I recognise my mother's light footsteps behind me as she follows in my wake and am relieved that the task at hand that will keep me distracted from her latest lecture.

"Oh Catherine, why must you torment me so. Look at your dress," she stated in despair.

I scowl at her, noticing the hurt in her eyes before I resume tending to the kitten. I find the milk pale I used this morning on Sally, our sweetest goat. Thankfully father hasn't turned her out to graze yet, so I can quickly pull some more milk through. We raised her as an orphan kid, and she has by far the easiest temper of them all. I tune out my mother's cursing at my ruined dress, and work quickly. Then, I realise my dilemma, I haven't teat small enough for this scrawny little infant.

Behind me I hear my mother muttering with a sigh, before the sound of fabric tearing meets my ears. I look up to see she has torn a section of her petticoat.

"Soak this, and see if she will suckle it," my mother sighs, "I take it you're keeping her? It is a girl right? She looks too dainty to be a male."

"Thank you," I whisper, "And yes, she will die on her own." I smile as with a little persuasion, the kitten begins to mouth on the fabric, making sure I pour more milk onto it and keep it sopping wet as she does.

After a while, she stops, and spits out the rag, mewling before letting out a contented purr, and I can't help but feel immensely satified at our efforts.

"Come on, I will get you a flask to take more with you, in fact if we are quick I may even be able to rig it up to work as a test as well," my mother offered with a doting sigh.

I scooped the litte thing into my arms again, and followed her outside. "Mama?"

"Yes?" She asked, stopping in the now empty garden.

"What about Lord Sorrell, aren't you concerned what he will think of me. Should I insist on taking a kitten with me to rear, that is?" I ask playfully, making her laugh.

"My darling, the man saw you climbing a tree and caught you as you fell. Any preservation of decorum is long since lost right now," she answered honestly, making me laugh out, before her demeanor changed, "I know my ambitions may aggravate you and your father, but you should know, I do have my reasons Catherine." Then she stepped closer to me, "Simply put, you are a girl, and when your father dies, we will lose this farm, your leg prohibits you from being an object of desire for a working man's wife. Your beauty however, does not stop you from being an object of their other desires, and without a man to protect you... Well, further from how we will survive, I worry for your safety, and your virtue." She explained, "Child, if Lord Sorrell, offers you friendship, even if it is no further, then at least then you will have a powerful ally who can shelter you. His name and title would keep away rakes and scoundrels who would hurt you otherwise. So, please lay aside your pride, I know this is not a path you wish for, but sometimes our well being and survival is more important than our happiness and our desires."

This was the thing about my mother, she loved me. Her ambitions for me were not simply that born of a need to excel, but of a need to care for me. Then when her ambitions were set aside or even explained she would relax, and at those times there was no one I would rather be around more. Her wit and charm would rival that of any fine lady I'd wager. She was a merchant's younger daughter who fell in love with a farmer and she loved us so fiercely, that her mind would often work at solving problems my father and I had simply failed to take into account.

"I will go and change, Mama," I offer obediently, walking towards the house as she split off to find my father and my new friend.

I rejoin everyone in the parlour a while later, having put on a clean shift beneath my stay, and an untainted petticoat. I found a rarely used overdress and put it on around my hip roll, lacing up the front with practiced ease. I must admit, I had quite forgotten I had this one, the blue colour of it makes me smile, because it reminds me of the bay on a summer's day. Each summer we have a drought, during which the volume of peat washed of the land and into the river is subsequently much less, and on the sunnier days the water in the bay turns the most vibrant pale turquoise as a result. It's why this dress has been completely forgotten and abandoned, being that it's my favourite colour and I am rather hard on my clothes I had wished to preserve it, so I hid it from myself in at the back of my closet. I reattach a modesty cloth around my neck and bosom and freed my curls from the cloth in the process. Then I spotted my shawl, I seem to have unwittingly donated the material to my new dependant.

This is why my mother is now looking at me like I have lost my wits as I enter the room still cradling the small creature within it.

"Surely you could have managed to find her an alternative bed, Cathy?" My father asks with a smirk, and an adoring shake of his head.

He knows full well what my answer will be, yet still pushes to make me admit my soft heart aloud. I swear he enjoys it when I admit how overly caring I am. Even I know it's a trait that only leads to heart break on a farm, but still my heart persists on the fool's errand everytime I find some poor creature in need.

"She was perfectly contented, why should I move her?" I smile back playfully.

My father looks at me, evaluating me as I stand before him. "No, I suppose you shouldn't, " he sighs, "Hold on then," he adds, as he gets up and leaves the room without explanation, perplexing us all.

"So, I am presuming we will have a stow away on our journey, Miss Innes?" Lord Sorrell asks, pulling attention to himself.

"Indeed we shall. As this is all very unorthodox, I don't think there should be a problem with her joining us as well," I respond, making my mother shudder at my ill manners.

But feeling the need to prove I am no naive child embarking on this journey, makes me stand firm without remorse.

"Wonderful," came his smooth reply, "And have you named her yet?" He asked pleasantly, removing the tension from my mother's shoulders.

"Of course, I shall call her Chastity, and she shall be my constant companion throughout," I respond, noticing the flicker of recognition in his eyes at my declaration of intent.

Before he can respond however, my father returns wearing a discreet smile as he looks at me with a sigh.

"This was your grandmother's, Cathy," He suddenly stated, holding up a large swathe of tartan. "I know an arasaid has long since gone out of fashion, but they are warm, and it will keep you well protected from the harsher climates in the higher ground of the mountains."

I touch the fabric with reverence, my grandmother died of a nasty fever when my father was a child, and he treasured everything he owned of hers. Moving Chastity to the side, I lose all pretence of good breeding and find myself pulling my father close with my spare arm. "I will treasure it, Da. Always." I whisper to him.

He gives me a gruff nod as we pull apart, but his eyes give away his turmoil. They are wet with tears that he will never allow himself to shed.

"Right then, I think it is time you were going," he all but grunts at me, "You have held the poor Lord up with your antics long enough now, Cathy."

I smile, nodding in acquiescence and proceed to follow my parents out of the house in step beside, Lord Sorrell.

My father is quietly discussing something with my new friend when my mother turns to me and pulls me into an unexpected embrace.

"Do not fret, Catherine," she whispers, knowing me well, "All will be fine and we will be reunited soon. In the meantime, take every opportunity presented to you my beautiful girl. Enjoy them, you are luckier than you know."

I pull back and smile with a nod, "Take care, Mama."

"I will," she nods, "Now, there is a skein of milk for herself in the carriage already, and she should be able to feed from it easily enough now," my mother adds.

I nod yet again, somehow in the tumult of what is going on, it seems to be my defaulted response. I am moving towards the carriage in a trance, my mind screaming as I do so, and yet my feet readily oblige everyone else's wishes. Before I know it I am settled inside, having been helped up the step by Lord Sorrell, and my parents are calling out their farewells.

Then they are gone, and we are trundling down the dirt road on our way inland.

My leg burns uncomfortably as I noticably shift on the bench beneath me.

"Can I get you something to relieve your discomfort, Miss Innes?" He asks suddenly, "I'm sure there is somewhere we can stop to collect whatever you need?"

I can't help but stiffen at his words, I do not wish to be here and his kindness only serves to make me feel petulant and unjust towards him.

"No need, Lord Sorrell, I can bare it." I attempt to smile at him, realising the coldness of my words.

"Please, call me Edward, Lord Sorrell is too damn stuffy," he blurts out in response, catching my attention.

I raise my brow at him, "I believe, Lord Sorrell, we are being quite improper enough already as it is. We should not be exacerbating the matter further."

He smiles challenging me, his eyes twinkling as he speaks, "Exactly, we are already breaking all the laws of propriety, what's the harm in using our given names, Catherine?"

My eyes widen at his brazen and intimate use of my name and I recall my mother's advice.

"Lord Sorrell, I do believe you are not quite the gentleman you have painted yourself to be to my parents," I respond tartly.

"Then you have allowed my words to deceive you," he stated in a mocked solemnity. "I only wish to relax you, Miss Innes. I want to be your friend, not make you fear you have stepped into some rouges's den."

I study him for a moment, scruitinizing his motives before thinking of my mother, and responding coolly, "Alright, Edward." I say narrowing my eyes, "But, that will be the last waver of my grip on propriety. There will be no more concessions."

His smile brightened his whole face as he looked at me.

"Thank you, Catherine, I will now rejoice in the thought of hearing my name fall from your sweet lips on many, many more occasions."

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, busy busy on many fronts. But, at least it's a bit longer, and I hope you enjoyed it. Also I'm curious if discovering their motives has changed your opinions on Mr and Mrs Innes?