Caring about the happiness of others, we find our own. ~ Plato.

Chapter 37.

Catrin's Plan.

Elwyn tried very hard to brush off his uncle's words. No one would miss him if he was gone. His life was a waste. He was a hideous monster. No one would love him. His only hope was what his title and his money could buy. Elwyn stood up and gazed out the window of his tower. He'd made himself prisoner here ever since his uncle had brought him back, more dead than alive. Slowly he went over to his chest and pulled out a small looking glass. He gazed at the reflection that stared back at him. The white mask was there more to hide the scars from himself than from anyone. He never had any proper visitors until recently.

Was it really a waste?

What good was he as an Earl?

He didn't even take care of his lands. His uncle would be so much better at it anyway. Iestyn was the one hope of Llys Gwyn now. He just needed to find a wife and produce a male child to inherit the castle and the land. Elwyn would never marry. Elwyn would never achieve anything.

Putting the looking glass away, Elwyn slowly went back to his seat and sat down heavily.

There was a knife in his table. It was always there, hidden in a special nook underneath the surface but one of the legs. That was so Raj would never find it and take it away.

Elwyn knew he shouldn't, but his hand slipped under the table and pulled out the knife. He gazed at it for a while before letting his fingers toy the instrument. How easy it would be.

A female hand suddenly covered it.

Elwyn looked up with a start and his eyes met the serious brown ones of Catrin Llewelyn. He took a deep breath. How dare she come without knocking? She slipped in here like a ghost and caught him at a horribly vulnerable moment. He could never forgive him that. There was some pride left in him, and he guarded it fiercely. Never, never ever did he ever want anyone to see him vulderable. Seeing him playing with an idea like this one. He wanted to just lash out at her, but she was ahead of him.

"Captain Fleets, Captain Fleets," she shook her head, her voice soft and sad. It wasn't so much reproach as a gentle chide.

He kept his face hard, but she knelt down and covered the hand grasping the knife with both of hers.

"Let it go, Captain. Please, sir, let it go. Don't go down that road, it is not yours to take. I know you are hurting, but you mustn't, oh how you mustn't."

She wasn't exactly pleading and she wasn't reprimending, it was hard to guess what she was doing. Her voice was so sweet, and sad, and caring. It was almost like the wind, the summer breeze that had blown through his tower when he had opened his window to it.

"What's the point, Miss Llewelyn?" He asked in a rather gruff tone. He was still upset that she had just barged in here like this.

"Yes, Captain, what is the point? Why end it? What good will it do?"

No one had ever placed the question like that before. It was always what good is your life, not what good will your death be.

Elwyn allowed himself to relax a bit. Getting angry wouldn't achieve anything. It wouldn't scare her away, that was for sure. Instead he took a calm tone and a simple question. "Miss Llewelyn," he asked. "Do you think my life is a waste?"

Catrin, still on her knees in front of him, held his gaze. "Not a waste," she replied. "Rather being wasted. I know it is not my place to judge, and I will not, but I will say that a life is never a waste while it lives. Kill yourself and I promise it will have been a waste, but not yet. Oh not yet! Captain Fleets, don't you realize that your death will impact others?"

Elwyn eyed her. She was saying something completely opposite to what his uncle was saying. And he may have brushed it aside, except that she was a young girl in full youth and bloom, exactly the kind of person Elwyn had been sure would never want to have anything to do with him. Yet she wasn't shunning him. She wanted him to live. Why exactly Elwyn had yet to find out, but her words and action were enough to have him present another question.

"Impact who?"

"My stepsister for one. She is very fond of you, Captain. She feels for your situation dreadfully. I would be jealous of her devotion to you, but how can I? And what of your servant, Raj? He has devoted himself to you. He serves you out of love, you cannot let that love down. I have seen Lord Woodworth come here, so surely he must be a friend of yours as well. I will not doubt that your death will sadden him as well. Please, sir, give me the knife and never let despair sink you so low again. Where there is life there is hope, and where there is hope there is life. If you have no hope, I will give you some, as much as I can. Only please, keep the life given to you by God. Onl He has the right to take it away. The knife, please, oh please let me have it."

Elwyn never gave the knife to anyone. He always hid it in itself special place, but again, almost against his will, he gave in and placed the knife in her hands. After three years of hiding it, three years of contemplating suicide, why did he submit so easily?

Catrin put the knife in the basket she had brought with her. Once this action was complete she stood up from her knees and sat down in the chair opposite his.

"I was once locked up too," she told him. "My stepmother kept me on the manor while she took Beatrice out to balls and parties in London. I did nothing but read books and daydream of the day I would be like my stepsister, but reading and daydreaming will get you nowhere in life. I too wasted my time and thought it was justified. But it was not. That wasn't really living, it was just existing from day to day. I don't want to exist like that anymore, I want to be alive, like really alive. That is why I began taking actions, why I began fighting the dragon. Beatrice once told me that everyone has a dragon in their life, something they have to defeat, something they have to conquer. Discover your dragon, Captain sir, and fight it."

"I think I know my dragon, Miss Llewelyn. What is more, it has gotten the better of me."

Catrin leaned forward, her eyes peering into his. "Not until you're dead it hasn't!" She whispered softly. There was no fiercness, just conviction and sympathy mixed together. "Once again, I am not here to lecture you. I am far too young and naive about much in life and to tell you anything. You have seen it all, war, death, destruction. All I can say is this, it's not over, it's never over, until you're dead. Where there is life there is hope, and while there is breath, there can be a fight. And if you are to fight, Captain, you must decide to win. Surely you know that better than I do?"

They were the words he had spoken to Miss Morton. Strange they should find their way back to him. He pondered them for a few moments, not knowing how to answer and at last decided against answering at all. "Why are you here?" He asked.

"Oh," Catrin could feel her face coloring up. "It was just a thought that came to my head...well...you see...it's like this: Beatrice's birthday is coming up. It will be in February, and she is hating it so. Mamma always makes this grand ball and it's all posh and sophisticated and my stepsister so dreads all that. We were just speaking and she said how much she wished her birthday would never come."

"Miss Llewelyn," Elwyn kindly interrupted her. "If you wish to get me to come, I fear your journey has been quite useless, for I never leave this tower. I could never present myself to society as I am. It would be too...well...humiliating."

Catrin was sure her face was purple by now. "Please, sir, I think I understand that. It is just I was hoping to somehow make this birthday special for her, and I should dearly love you to be a part of it. You see, as I said earlier, my stepsister is so very fond of you, anything that has you in it light up her face, her world even."

This news caused Elwyn to blink in shock. Miss Morton was his friend of course, but even for so long he had felt that her visits were more of pity than pleasure. To think she really thought highly of him. To think his life, his existance even mattered to her. Miss Llewelyn had said she would miss him if he died. That was certainly something.

So despite what his uncle had said, despite what he had been thinking only minute before, Elwyn put suicide out of his mind. Instead smiled at Catrin. "What did you have in mind, Miss Llewelyn?"

***

It was the twentieth of Feburary and Derwen Goch Manor was aglow with lights. Never before had the place seen such a grand party as it did that day. All the families of good name had been invited, Colonel Iestyn Blethyn was there with his mother, the Duke of Denster had arrived, even Charles had been summoned from London.

In the mind of Mrs. Llewelyn, this was to be the night. Surely Lord Woodworth would ask her beautiful daughter to marry him.

Beatrice had been preened and dressed up in a fancy gown made of china silk. Her black hair done up with pearls, her already white skin made even paler with the help of powder. Despite her beauty, which shone like a star on the winter night, you never saw a girl look so unhappy.

"Mamma's dollie," she muttered to herself.

"Such a scowl," Iestyn said to her as he approached. "You would think you were attending your own funeral."

"I am not in the mood for a party," Beatrice side.

"I have yet to ever see you in the mood for one," Iestyn chuckled. "But come, Miss Llewelyn, it is your birthday. They are announcing the dances, I would be honored to have the first one."

Beatrice let out a small smile. At least with Colonel Blethyn there would be interesting conversation. She took the hand he held out to her.

"I'll just stick around him and try to find out what is happening in the world of politics," Beatrice decided.

Mrs. Llewelyn frowned when she saw her daughter walking with that colonel. Who was he to ask her for the dance. There was Lord Woodworth in the far corner, he was the one who was supposed to stand up with his daughter. As it was, he went over to Catrin.

She blushed when she saw him. "Lord Woodworth," she stammered out. "I see you have come from London after all."

"I think my father would have disinherited me if I dared not show up," Charles chuckled. "I see you are not engaged, perhaps we will."

Hating the fact that she was red all over, Catrin took Charles' hand.

"How have you been, your lordship?" She asked as they moved to the dance floor.

"Well enough."

"You do not...well...you never...."

"Wrote?" Now it was Charles' turn to feel the heat rise to his face. "Ah yes, that part. I fear I am not good at letter writing. I never even write Elwyn, poor fellow."

"You mean the Earl?"

Charles bit his lip. Goodness he had let that slip. Thankfully it was a harmless slip, everything thought Elwyn to be languishing away in Italy.

"Yes," he nodded.

"I wonder if he feels as badly about it as I did."

Now Charles' conscience pricked him. "You felt badly?"

"But of course, your lordship. You asked me to not court anyone until you had made something of yourself, but then you go and disappear. I do not know what you have been up too, I do not know who you have been seeing, and honestly I feel it rather unfair."

Charles bit his lower lip. "You are right," he confessed. "It was irresponsible of me, I suppose I shall have to work on that part. I never cared for writing and as such have no habit. I promise to do better."

The slight nod of her head told Charles she didn't quite believe him and would be watching him. Goodness courtship could be complicated. Having spent his whole life never caring about anything, it was time to realize that if he didn't do something about his lazy attitude he might just lose Catrin altogether.

The dance came to an end and Charles, catching the intent stare of Mrs. Llewelyn, hurried over to ask Beatrice to dance before catastrophy struck.

The ball progressed and at one point Catrin called Beatrice away to the library.

"There is a gift for you here, Bea," she said, pulling Beatrice to one of the shelves. "Tell me if you can find it."

A playful smile appeared on Beatrice's face. At least something fun was happening at this otherwise dreadfully boring ball. She walked over closer to the shelves and began scanning the books. Suddenly she halted and caught her breath. Leaning nearer, she read the title of the book.

An Essay on Man

And right next to it An Essay on Criticism, followed by: The Rape of the Lock, Moral Essays, The Iliad of Homer, and on and on it went. Book after book, work after work of her beloved Alexander Pope, just like the one Mamma had burned once upon a time.

"It's the entire collection, Bea," Catrin informed her. "All his works."

Beatrice spun around and wrapped her arms around Catrin.

"Oh Cadie, dearest Cadie!" She gushed into her ear. "This is perhaps the most beautiful and wonderful present ever. Oh sweet love, you have just turned what was perhaps the worst day of my life into what is now the best one. You got the entire collection for me! Could anything ever get any better. But how...when?"

"That is a secret," Catrin giggled. "And it does get better! There is more to the gift, you will find in your favorite book in the lot. Go ahead."

Wondering how there could be more to this, Beatrice went over and pulled out An Essay on Man.

"Go ahead, open it!" Catrin said.

Scowling a little with curiosity, Beatrice opened the cover and found a plain white card folded in. Balancing the book, Beatrice unfolded the card and read:

My Best Compliments and Many Happy Returns.

Capt. W. F.

Turning to Catrin, Beatrice's scowl deepened in confusion.

Catrin rolled her eyes. "Beatrice Morton! You cannot be that dense."

Beatrice studied her stepsister for a few seconds, while Catrin tossed her head a little, wondering how Beatrice could not understand so obvious. At last it dawned on her.

Captain William Fleets!

"Cadie!" Beatrice said in a low whisper.

"It's from both of us, Beatrice," Catrin whispered back. "He of course would never come here, but...well...we decided that you would love this best of all!"

Beatrice bit her lip and looked at the card and the very neat handwritting. "Cadie...I...I..." She felt her voice choking up. How had her stepsister come up with all this? How had she gotten Captain Fleets to be a part of it?

"Girls!" Her mother's voice called out. "Where are you? Beatrice! This is your party, young lady! Where are you hiding?"

Hurridly Beatrice stuffed the note back in the book and placed it on the shelf and two girls shuffled back into the ballroom. The party would keep going for at least another two or three hours.

Neither of them had noticed the card slip out of the book while Beatrice was shoving it back into the shelf and fall onto the floor.