Of Fairytales and Happy Endings

Chapter 3. Derwen Goch Manor

Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated. ~ Confucius

Chapter 3

Derwen Goch Manor.

A timid knock on the door, followed by an earnest, "Bea, it is Catie. Amy said you were up, please let me in," finally pulled Beatrice out of her novel. Rising from her seat she unlocked the door and let her stepsister inside. Once Catrin was safely inside Beatrice closed the door and locked it once more.

"You made Mamma very angry," Catrin said, sitting down in one of the chairs. "She wishes to speak to you and was upset how you slept in so late and then did not let her into your room."

"Mamma ought to know by now that the one thing I long for after an extended trip to London is solitude," Beatrice retorted.

"Why are you always so angry when you come from the city?" Catrin asked as she stroked Argos, who had walked up to her and put his head on her lap.

"Because I do not like it there and I wish Mamma would stop dragging me against my will."

"I suppose that means you did not have a good time while you were away."

"Catie, do I ever have a good time when I am away?"

Catrin shook her head. "Tell me how was London this time?"

Beatrice settled back in the large armchair. "It was filled with excitement and fun. The balls were never dull and there was always someone to make interesting conversation with. The gentlemen were courteous and never once did any girl want for partners. The parties were filled with interesting folk who spoke of pleasant things. The sights and sounds of the capital filled the soul and made one feel as though she were a princess in a great city brimming with adventure and wonderful surprises."

"Was it really like that?" Catrin asked, her face full of delight and wonder.

"No," Beatrice flatly replied. "It was nothing like that at all. In reality it was cold, smoggy and bleak. The balls were overcrowded; there was never enough air to breath. And at those intolerable card parties all people did was gossip, gossip, gossip."

"Then why did you tell me such a fib?"

"Because I knew it was what you wanted to hear. That is the London you made up for yourself, and even when I tell you what it is really like you never believe me. What you need is to go and see for yourself and then you will understand when I say London is the most rotten place on this earth."

"You know how much I would love to see London, but Mamma will never take me." Catrin sadly looked out the window. "She says I am not strong enough. We must wait until my health improves."

Beatrice didn't know how to answer. She didn't understand why her mother was so insistent that Catrin remain on the manor. True, she was slim and delicate, but not to the extent Mrs. Llewelyn kept insisting. Catrin was already nineteen years old, it was long time for her to be out. How did Mamma plan to marry her off if society didn't know she existed? Beatrice had often approached her mother with the idea of taking Catrin on one of their many trips to Bath. Surely Catrin could make the journey there; it was far closer than London. But Mariah Llewelyn had always brushed the idea aside.

"Tell me of the six offers you turned down," Catrin spoke up again. "It was all Mamma could wail about. Every time your return from a trip to London Mamma does nothing but weep how you did not catch a husband. Is it really so hard to find one?"

"Oh, Catie, Catie, my dear, naive Catie," Beatrice shook her head. "I am a very pretty girl with a dowry of thirty thousand pounds. That is all the men are after. If I was without the dowry they would hardly give me a second glance. I do not want to be the wife of a man who only cares for the money I bring with me. I want a man who will love me no matter what, who would marry me even if I didn't have a penny to my name. But so far I have not found such a man."