Autumn's Desire

By Reetika Verma

Catherine Salisbury had decided the discourse of the most ardent dilemma of her life. Granted, the solution to her misery didn't end with the consequences for her alone. 

It would immensely affect her marriage— though she couldn't be sure if her husband would be too much inclined when he heard her decision, at last, to even think about their mockery of a marriage that had loomed over them for about five years now. 

Her fingers trembled at the last words, as she moved her quill over the end of the writing parchment paper.

She stood up from her study and wiped her palms on her skirts to smoothen them but as she withdrew her fingers, she found the ink smeared shamelessly over the top flare of her skirts. 

Catherine sighed. It would seem, no matter how much she tried, she couldn't, after all, succeed being a dignified woman which would suit the position of a wife of the wealthiest industrialist in the Town. 

Knock on the door announced the presence of Mrs. Salisbury by her reticent maid, whose expression clearly showed the pity she wore in her eyes. 

Painting her expression back to that of a serene woman, Catherine opened the door of her study only to come face to face with her mother-in-law. 

Mrs. Salisbury. 

As if in reflex of preventing the need to embarrass herself again in front of her mother— by law, her fingers went by default to her hairs and she felt herself cringe for being once again in the scrutiny of Mrs. Salisbury in her disheveled state. 

Catherine curled her fingers inward, her attempts failing to disguise the ink marrying her fingers. As if remembering her previous debacle, she made to adjust herself to hide the stained ink portion of her morning gown. 

She cursed inwardly, for she was just about to go to the washbasin to clean herself of such indignity which her mother-in-law certainly wouldn't — and never did— approve in any moment.

"Madam. Good morning."

Mrs. Salisbury made to rove her gaze up and down her entire presence — the disdain so obvious on her face for her quite familiar daughter-in-law that Catherine had an uncontrollable urge to rearrange her hairs again. 

But she resisted. She would have to, if only to strive not to give her mother the fodder of having the satisfaction to befuddle her with her judgemental screening. 

Holding her eyes with some prayed braveness and strength, Catherine said, "I'm afraid Philip is yet not home, mam. If you'd want to settle down comfortably in the sit," She gestured towards the door, extending her invitation to the study, "I could send for some tea and refreshments—" 

Mrs. Salisbury dismissed with her hands. "Never mind the tea. Atleast, not solely in my own company."

"Then perhaps you would want to wait for the dinner as I settle—" Catherine made for the door the hallway, her mind reeling with words to escape the present company. 

"Before you settle your whereabouts — of running away from me, to be frank — would you prefer to send for some biscuits—"

"I could certainly bring the whole batch of freshly baked flavoured ones as well—"

"— and tea, and oblige me with your presence?"

Catherine found herself tongue-tied to the query. It was no great revelation that her mother-in-law disliked Catherine's entire existence, let alone her presence in the Salisbury Mansion as the wife of her honorable and most beloved son, Philip Salisbury.

Her husband was out of Town for two days and was meant to return today, but knowing his unpredictability of changing schedules and his straight-forward need to be away from their marriage home for the past three months— Catherine would wager he'd take his longest sweetest course to make an effort to return here — to spend some time in her company.

Not that she cared. After all, the terms of their marriage and the circumstances that required him to marry her, was as clear on Catherine's vision of their future as the stains of the black ink marring her peach colored gown now. 

Too obvious to be ignored and yet too pointed to be forgotten about that easily. 

Moments later, Catherine found herself fisting her hands on her lap, as she waited for her mother-in-law to produce the initiation of such a befuddling encounter. 

"I'm aware you're aware I do not favour you." Mrs. Salisbury lifted her tea cup as she took a sip of the amber liquid in contentment. 

"I have never doubted your disdain and hatred for my presence here," Taking her pointed glare, she hurriedly added,"but I assure you I'd never fault you for feeling it so."

"I do not live for your assurance."

"Pardon me, I didn't mean to imply—"

"Your subtle implication fails to affect me in any way." She took another long sip while staring into Catherine's soul. 

"I feel like we should wait for Philip to come home. I wouldn't wish to agitate you with my presence here any longer, madam."

Catherine made to move herself from her seat but Mrs. Salisbury spoke too fast, too crisp for her to follow through her action,"Have you heard the news?"

She caught her eye in question. "About the return of Prudence Merriweather?"

All the emotions bashing Catherine at the moment combined into the sheer force as she resisted the urge to gasp. 

It wasn't that she was unaware of the news. It would seem she couldn't hide her distress at the arrival of Prudence in her life, after all. 

Her arrival, which extended in her husband's life as well. 

Not that Philips would ever be disloyal to his marriage vows. But to yearn for someone while tied to the holy bond with the personality precisely opposite of the love of your life — she couldn't even bear to imagine his level of hurt and misery. 

If everything went according to her plans, she would surely be able to alleviate some of his pain. 

"Are you trying to retreat now that your sister has returned to inhabit my son's life again?"

"I fail to understand why it should affect me so. I'm of the thought everyone is aware of their love, Madam. A little distance and few years away from each other would only strengthen their bond."

Mrs. Salisbury nodded,"I've heard she made her name as one of the most sought after artists?"

"She wrote to me. I'm aware of her achievements?"

"And also aware of the fact that you'll have to let go of Philip in the end? Isn't he the best husband ever who would never leave his wife for any circumstances?"

"He's your son, Madam. I've never trapped him into any obligation to be tied in this marriage with me."

"Then you're willing to release him? Is he that bad at giving attention to his wife as one would require from a husband?"

"I'm possibly the most envied wife in the world, Mam. I'm never short of gifts, clothes, compliments, jewels, freedom, independence to pursue my interests. others would think my life can never— should never— complain of misery and desperation," She met her mother-in-law eyes," And others would think it right." 

She added, "I've no desire to hold Philip back from whatever he wishes for in his life, regardless of your lowering opinion of me." 

"You're willing to release him too easily? Are you not in love with him? I'd think the circumstances surrounding this marriage would make any woman fall in love with such a man. I reckon, which man sacrifices his life to protect his mentor's daughter from the danger by offering her marriage and the security of her name? I'm inclined to believe it otherwise."

"Then you would be in for a disappointment. While I hold Philip in the greatest regard and affection, you'd find it glad to hear that we are only good friends in this marriage. He thinks of me as his best companion and nothing else. Nothing more. Ever."

"And what do you think of him? Is he also only the greatest friend to you?"

Catherine took her cold tea and sipped,"If you wish to use my emotions against me, then I must warn you that the absence of those emotions would certainly admit you to defeat, madam. As I stated before, Philip and I, are nothing but friends. Good friends."

The friend he married to protect her, of course. 

But she was also the friend he HAD to protect because of the promise he gave to her father's death bed that he would never let any harm come to his only daughter — Catherine Pearson. 

The co-incidence that Prudence happened to be the love of his life at that moment, who also betrayed their engagement and ran off to the Continent to make her name as an artist should not make Catherine think that the only reason Philip married her was to have a familiar companion by his side. 

But I made her think — of this absolute truth — anyway. 

And if ever, Philip would even want her to think otherwise — that she wasn't just a convenient wife to him — his attempts to soothe his pain of heartbreak and betrayal which almost ended up into him turning into the drunkard at the first years of their marriage would always— always— keep Catherine checked in her emotions for him. 

That she was to be protected as she was hunted by her father's enemy. 

To play a role of a loyal wife certainly didn't suit her. Would never suit her. 

Even if that was the only role she desired to be given the chance to play from her father's student. 

The added advantage of their friendship would destroy most things she knew to be hers. And the duty to their friendship also required her to release him from this farce of a marriage as soon as possible. 

Even if that would end up killing her heart in the process, she could not deny the truth any longer. 

That Philip Salisbury would always want the beautiful, tittering butterfly of his Mentor's garden— Prudence Merriweather. 

The irony that Catherine could only be the way these two star-crossed lovers could ever meet shouldn't feel so hurtful and betrayed for her. 

But it didn't lessen the burden for carrying this responsibility for Catherine anyway. 

Whether that responsibility sprouted from her own heart which desired far too many things— a man, in general — out of her reach, or that burden stemmed from the reason that her sister could finally he happy. 

Her step-sister. 

And her husband. 

By Reetika Verma