Catherine Nowells

Chapter 7 - matter of cunning

"Wake up, lazybones, I'm telling you to wake up," Catherine insisted for the third time in the dim light. With the help of a meager candle, she observed as her servant slept peacefully among rollers and shawls, ignoring her completely. She looked for something to help wake her up and spotted a bowl of water, so she went to get it and poured it on Nina. 

"But, milady!" the dripping, newly awakened woman exclaimed, between sobs and panic. 

"I can't believe you're sleeping so peacefully with the predator lurking at our steps," Catherine whispered meaningfully as she threw her a towel. 

"We agreed that we wouldn't go..." Nina dried the stream of water running down her nose. "It's too risky because we know Lord Raynolds will be looking for her." 

Catherine clicked her tongue and shook her head. 

"You still have a lot to learn about Catherine Nowells. I'm not going to stop making the money I need because of him. How long do I have to put up with his influence on my life? His mood swings and his ego? No, I'm not going to let myself be intimidated. Do you remember Nala's friend?" 

"The one who wears a veil to cover her face?" 

"Exactly! I'm going to propose something to little Marcus tomorrow." 

"Ma'am...be careful with what you're going to do...the Duke is no fool." 

"Any man can be a fool when seduced. Lesson number one of a professional cabaret dancer. Don't look at me like that, I've been a professional since I get paid to sing and dance, no matter how many hours I do it."

"I understand, milady, but what are we supposed to do now?" she looked at the clock, which read 5 in the morning. 

"Oh! Nothing important, don't worry. Here, put this on," Catherine extended a dark suit similar to the one she was wearing. 

She obeyed, thanking for the dryness of the new clothes and getting rid of the sleeping cap to be able to comb her hair. 

"Leave that, it doesn't matter," Catherine said. 

"But do you want me to go with my hair like this?" she pointed to the tangled hair, half with curlers and the other half without them. 

"Yes, we can't waste time. I've already lost too much trying to wake you up," Catherine pulled her towards the hallway. 

"At least can I know where we're going?" Nina asked. 

"To Marcus's room. Don't stop. Walk or I'll have you whipped when the sun comes up. Very well, like that, and fast. We need to find the checkbook he always uses to bribe and buy women." 

"I wonder where it is!" 

"It's in a chest he keeps in the closet." 

"I forget that there's no Marcus Raynold's pin without examining."

A subtle, imperceptible breeze caused by Catherine's hand on the doorknob, slipped into Marcus's bedroom. He slept brazenly, semi-naked and with the blanket thrown to the side. The lady in question stood there for a few seconds, staring at the partially exposed buttocks until she remembered why she was there. On tiptoe and with Nina keeping watch for any sign of latent threat, Catherine opened the door to the wardrobe with a torturous slowness for the nerves of the maid. She couldn't see anything, she hadn't brought a candle so as not to give herself away and she regretted it. So she ventured to run her hands over the shelves, silently knocking against all kinds of objects until she touched something cold and metallic: the chest. She carefully pulled it out, making sure not to knock anything over and brought it to the faint light coming in through the window. There, she realized that the damn box was locked. She was about to give up the mission, but if there was one thing she could boast of, it was her perseverance, so she turned her head almost three hundred sixty degrees looking for options.