Peace and blessings be upon you.
Your servant,
Katharine closed her eyes and steeled herself against the pain. She felt almost a physical blow to her stomach that made her sick as she scanned the short note and took in the words. Mohammed had made love to another woman. He had held another woman in his arms and caressed her as he had done with her. Had he looked deep into this Safiya’s eyes as he possessed her? A wedding was to take place? She felt a sickness deep inside her.
She moved away from the blanket, stumbling as she went. Her head swam and she clutched at her stomach. Thoughts were swirling in her head. He was marrying an Arab woman befitting his station. Her mother was right! She had given him everything, and now he was marrying another woman.
Yasmeen’s voice taunted her: He’ll sell your body to the highest bidder once he’s tired of your cunt and taste. But no, it was much worse than that. She had simply been discarded like trash. Did he give no thought at all to his son? Her son. Oh God, why? It was like a physical pain. The tears fell on her cheeks and she moved away from the manor house. Why? Why? It hurt so much she couldn’t bear it. Why? She was blinded by the tears and collided with a figure who stood in her way.
“Katharine? What is it?” Thomas asked, worried.
He saw her in great distress as she approached and she seemed to have not seen him. He had been walking to clear his head on his last day at the manor house and saw her.
She had tears on her cheeks and she clutched a letter in one hand.
“Oh, Thomas,” she sobbed. She allowed him to take her in his arms as she cried. “I can’t bear it. It hurts so much.” She closed her eyes against the pain.
He shushed her gently and touched her blonde hair, which was loose down her back.
His hand moved to soothe her back and she calmed herself. She suddenly felt her knees go weak and his arms were around her. She felt dizzy and confused.
“Katherine,” he said, knowing she was in great pain. He sank into the grass, holding her.
“Thomas I can’t bear it. It hurts so much,” she said. The betrayal and the feeling of being used as trash and Mohammed moving inside another woman made her sick.
He held her tightly and tried to comfort her. She sat beside him as he touched her hair and soothed her. Suddenly, Katharine realized her posture and her close proximity and was ashamed.
“I’m sorry, Thomas. How awkward for you,” she said. She looked into his eyes, her blue ones filled with unshed tears and pain.
“Dearest Kat, can I help you?” He fell into using her old nickname.
“I have gone from complete to bliss to utter darkness in one moment,” she said, her wet blue eyes searching his. “I see nothing ahead.” She unfolded the letter and gave it to him, which he read.
“Katharine, I’m very sorry. This letter is deeply upsetting,” he replied. They sat on the grass together before she moved to stand and he followed.
Katharine walked with him toward the house before she murmured, “You have been so kind, but I, I need to be alone,” she told him. She gazed down at the letter and he nodded.
“Of course.”
She looked lost and confused as she made her way back to the house. Thomas watched her go and felt his heart tug.
Katharine returned to her room and reread the letter several times, which only caused her fresh pain. The tiny wounds reopened in her heart. She felt so many things that it was hard to focus on one pain; it was all formed into one oozing wound. She knew there was nothing now. There would be no marriage, no home, and her dearest child would have no father. He had married another. Yasmeen’s and her mother’s words had come true. She was cast aside after he had taken what he wanted.
She felt tired and wanted to sleep. Katharine spent the next day in bed and, though Abigail tried to coax her out into the warm sunlight, she politely refused and stayed in her room. Her father also tried his best to bring her out of the darkness, but with no luck.
Thomas had asked his host if he could stay on and he tried to bring her out as well. He brought her flowers and left her little nonsensical poems he made up to make her smile.
She spent several days in bed, sleeping and eating very little, and every new breath was painful. But she had a son whom she adored, and for him, she tried to mix with company.
She spent day after day in Abigail’s company and came to love the woman most dearly. She was a calm, steady influence and Katharine knew she was protective of her son and herself. She read the Bible to her under the great oak tree and they read books aloud to each other. She was the mother Kat had never had.
Her own mother all but ignored her, and once Mohammed’s letter became knowledge through gossip, Anne smirked but said little. To have a daughter who was used goods with a living reminder of it was not a light subject; she was mortified that now even the marriage that was supposed to have occurred would not. She watched Edward grow more silent and knew that he ached for his daughter’s unhappiness. Never mind that had everyone listed to her and married Katharine off, this would not have happened.
As the days passed, Thomas also stayed on at Willow Manor and was welcomed. He was cheery and everyone enjoyed his company, especially Francie, who also came to see her friend.
“He’s certainly a handsome man,” Francie said one day as she and Katharine embroidered in the downstairs sitting room.
“Who, Francie?” Katharine quizzed.