My name is Katherine Fortworth. I grew up as a maid in a place called Mansfield Park, doing my best to please everyone with my joyous spirits and pure mind that I set to every subject I encountered. Not all my efforts were in vain, as many of those living in Mansfield Park not only enjoyed my company but also trusted me with various important tasks not normally left to any servant. It was just such a task that changed my life forever.

I was nineteen at the time, though hardly anyone knew this and early everyone took me to be at least twenty-two, for my mind and emotions were wise well beyond my years, and particular style which I wore my hair, and the style of my clothes, aged me a few years. So, only those servants who knew me since I was little and liked me enough to care knew my real age. I tell you my hairstyle and clothes aged me, for my features and figure were still rightly young.

The masters of Mansfield Park were varying in their personalities and characters. Edmund was kind, logical, sensitive, though a little too caught up in manners and dignity. Tom, the eldest, was rather foolish, spending most of his time drinking, smoking, and going to parties and inappropriate plays. After this, however few people saw it in him, he was kind and gentle with those he truly cared about who, I wont lie, were few. I fancy thinking he had at one point liked me a great deal, but convinced himself of the foolishness of the situation due to my circumstances. The master, Sir Thomas, was a sour mouthed serious fellow, with a little too much pride and too little kindness. He had a certain favor for African slaves which turned my stomach and brought out the only rebellious thoughts I had ever had.

Sir Thomas had taken Tom away with him to the City for a few months. When they had left, it was shortly after Fanny, a cousin of the Bertram's, had left to go back to her family. She had grown up with the Bertram's since she was around six, though I can't be sure for I was very young at that time. I think I must have reminded her of a younger sister, for she enjoyed my company more than any other servant and called on my often just to talk about things. Fanny had been asked for in marriage by a Mr. Henry Crawford, but turned him down due to his untrustworthiness and reputation. She had already seen his inappropriate behavior with Maria Bertram, daughter of Sir Thomas, during preparation for a play Tom had brought back to the house at a time when Sir Thomas was away dealing with slaves. Maria was engaged at that time. When Sir Thomas came back, the play was canceled, but not before Fanny and others saw the little romances and flirtatiousness between Maria and Mr. Crawford. She had never trusted him after that.

While Fanny was still away, and Sir Thomas and Tom off for slave dealings, I was rather lonely, watching Mary Crawford, sister of Henry Crawford, flirt endlessly with Edmund Bertram, the only man Fanny had ever loved or trusted. Mrs. Crawford and Mr. Bertram were quite close to being engaged when we received word of Tom. He had been left with his friends in the city, had taken ill, and then been deserted. He was nearly dead when he was found and would arrive within a few hours.

Tom was taken up to his room upon his arrival. I was enlisted to nurse him whenever a family member could not. Edmund went off nearly immediately to fetch Fanny for her aid and company.

I had never seen Tom in such a state. I had always wished he had been better behaved, but now all I could do was pity him for his illness. The doctor had done all he could, and now we must simply nurse him and wait. The whole house was in such a state, except for the Crawford's of course, though no one understood why they were at such peace when they had the least hoe of all of us for Tom's health.

A few days after Tom had arrived, Sir Thomas returned. He was like an Omen to the house for me. Whenever he was home, it was like he brought the darkness of the slave trade home with him. I always felt like mourning whenever he was around.

Tom was left to my care one evening. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, vomiting every now and then, and moaning in agony endlessly. I felt so bad for him I wanted to be the one to nurse him always.

I was patting away the sweat on his brow with a cool damp cloth when his eyes flickered open. They were such a deep brown I was nearly lost in them for a moment before I remembered my place and lowered my own. I continued to pat his forehead, ignoring his gaze. He often opened his eyes and looked around, but this time he kept them on me instead.

"Katherine…" He whispered softly before drifting off again. I nearly missed that he had said it, but the house was very quiet and I was very attentive to listening. I wondered if there was something he had wanted, so I looked around for anything that hadn't already been offered to him. I looked through the various bottles of salts and medicines, but found nothing that he hadn't already had. I stood with my hands on my hips, looking around the room for anything that might help, such as a softer blanket or a cleaner pillow, but what I found, instead of aiding him, caused me so much pain I felt ill myself.

On the end of the bed, just visible under his jacket, was a large leather-bound notebook. I lifted it gently, glancing first at the closed door, then at Tom. I slid open the cover; the first page had nothing more than Tom's signature on the bottom right corner. But when I turned to the second page, I had to sit down and put my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming or fainting or both.

Etched in such detail as had to be seen in real life was drawings of the most horrid kind. They were drawing of slaves, page after page, being beaten, raped, murdered, hung on hooks like meat, led in wretched chains into burning buildings, all by people I had never seen before, but that Tom had labeled as his neighbors and friends. Then, I turned to a page with a drawing of his father, Sir Thomas.

I stuffed the book back into the jacket and then looked at poor Tom. His eyes had opened again and were following a tear that was sliding down my cheek. I walked over and sat by his side, his gaze following my face as I picked up the cloth and dabbed his brow again. I looked up and saw sorrow in his eyes.

"I'm sorry you found that… I'm sorry I could do nothing about…" I understood what he was saying, even when it was interrupted by him leaning over and vomiting into a large bowl we had placed there for that very purpose.

"Oh sir…"

"Tom…" He interrupted me. I was surprised he requested this of me.

"Tom, I'm so very sorry. You have a burden not many can handle of having seen these things, these nightmares. You are a good man Tom." It was all I could say. The tears were flowing endlessly down my skin, falling onto my dress and the bed. I grabbed one of the nearby handkerchiefs and wiped my eyes. He hadn't said any more, but he was still watching me with a quiet sorrow. The things he had seen would have haunted me for the rest of my life. I couldn't imagine how he would recover from this, but now I understood the need for liquor. He had seen one too many horrid things and had tried to drink it all away.

"Oh Tom…" I drew a shuddering breath before standing and walking to the window. The candle light was flickering in the glass. Outside, the candles lighting the drive were dancing in their lamp posts. As tears fogged my vision, the lights became orange and yellow blurs that were swimming around in the tears flooding my eyes. When I finally wiped my eyes and turned to go back to Tom, Fanny had come in to take over. My eyes dropped to the floor as I bowed slightly and went to my room.

I didn't get much sleep that night. The images I had seen in the book kept passing through my mind. When I fell asleep, I would dream about them. Sometimes, I was an onlooker, other times I was the slave, or one of those horrible men. One time I woke screaming and one of the other maids came to calm me. I didn't tell anyone anything about the book or the images; I just kept it to myself and remained silent when the others asked me about it.

The next night I was told to watch Tom again, and that he was awake more often, so I might want to tell him a story to take his mind off the pain. I walked in nervous, afraid of what he might say to me and of that awful book. But when I went in, the jacket and the book were gone. That made me wonder who had found it and nearly got me crying all over again at the thought of who else might be having nightmares like mine and Tom's. I sat and began wiping his brow, but his hand reached up and took mine.

"Katherine… sweet Katherine…"

"Would you like me to tell you a story?" I was just repeating what the others had told me, but he seemed disappointed in the idea of yet another story.

"No story, but would you like me to sing to you?" His eyes seemed to brighten as they met mine and he nodded. I began humming a tune my mother had when I was very little, before she died of an illness. It was a lullaby, but it was such a dark, solemn lullaby it seemed peaceful for the moment. I hoped it would help him. It seemed to work. His eyes slid shut and he relaxed.

It went on like this for a few days. I was often the one to nurse him during many hours of the night. The Crawford's had left after Henry had slept with Maria and Mary made much too many comments on her future with Edmund, her plan for Maria (who had been married to Mr. Rushworth) and Henry, and let it slip that she had hoped for Tom's death, thus leaving his inheritance to Edmund. Edmund had dealt with her accordingly and they were never seen again at Mansfield Park. Maria went and lived with her Aunt and stayed out of society.

Sir Thomas had destroyed the book that night, I knew as I found the remains of the leather cover in his fire the next morning. I figured Fanny must have found it, for she had been adamant with Tom over the next few days as well as I. Once when I caught her eye, she seemed to nod a little as though letting me know she knew I had found the book. How could she not have known I knew, for she had seen my face that night and rushed over to be sure Tom was alright.

I prayed for Sir Thomas, that he would see the errors of his ways and repent of them. I prayed for Edmund and Fanny, that they might finally find happiness in each other. I prayed for Maria and Aunt Norris that they might find peace in their situation and that Maria might repent for her wrongs. I prayed that Mr. Rushworth might forgive Maria, even if he didn't take he back, just that he wouldn't hold that grudge against her. But more than the rest, I prayed that the abolition movement would go through and that the slaves would be freed, allowing those of us, Fanny, Tom and myself, that had been hurt by the cruelty, to find peace in life again. I prayed for Tom to continue to recover as well, which he was doing little by little every day as the doctor had hoped. I did not, however wrong it may have been, pray for the Crawford's, who had done nothing but cause trouble and heartache at Mansfield Park.

One night, while I was watching over Tom as he slept, I examined his face. He was quite handsome. There was something unique about his mouth and his eyes were so gentle and kind now that I could help but be attracted to him. His light, brown bangs were over his forehead as I tried to mop his sweat and they got in the way. I put down the cloth and gently, so as not to wake him, brushed the stray hairs away. I had to do it a number of times for them to finally stay put off to the side of his head. My fingertips were still sliding down his bangs, then down his face, then his jaw. His skin was so tight over his strong jaw it sent a chill down my spine. I pulled my hand back as though I had been burned and went back to the cloth. It turns out it was just in time too, for his eyes opened just as the cloth reached his brow. He smiled when he looked up and saw me.

"Hello Katherine…" Closed his eyes and took a deep breath, a small smile still displayed on his attractive mouth. I smiled lightly as I went about, wiping his brow.

"Katherine, would you be a dear and open the shade. I do believe it is morning and I would like some light for once." I rose and walked over to the window. I had thought it was still night, but as I looked I could see a gray haze under the heavy curtains. I slid them aside to reveal a dim gray sky. The sun was just beginning to rise. I danced about the room, tidying clothes and blankets. Finally, the room began to turn pink in the rising sunlight.

I looked out the window and let out a gasp. The sky was streaked gorgeously with pinks and oranges.

"Beautiful." I looked at Tom when he said it, but to my surprise, he wasn't looking at the sunrise but at me. I blushed and pretended I thought he was talking about the sky outside.

"Come here Katherine." He held out his hand to me. I took it and sat beside the bed.

"What was that song you hummed a few weeks ago?"

"It was a lullaby my mother sang to me when I was little. I hope I wasn't too bad for your liking Sir…"

"Tom. And you were just what I needed. You have a beautiful voice." I blushed again and dropped my gaze my hand, which was still in Tom's.

"Thank you… Tom." I choked it out. My eyes fluttered up to meet his, which were filled with affection and curiosity. My stomach tightened nervously when he began to lean towards me, but just then I heard the doorknob and pulled my hand from his. It was then I realized I had been leaning towards him slightly as well. I relaxed in my chair as though I had just spent a sleepless night caring for the poor sick man, which I had, but it was not tiring in the least.

"Thank you Katherine, you may go." Edmund nodded to me as he entered with Fanny behind him. I rose and left, but on my way out, once behind the other two, I looked back at Tom, then blushed and rushed up to my room. He was still watching me.

Tom continued to improve with time. Eventually, he was able to get out of bed and sit in the garden. Then before long, he was walking around without anyone to care for him. I must admit, I missed nursing him all those nights. It gave me an excuse to touch him, to slide my fingers across his brow and to dab his face with the damp towel. It gave me a chance to talk to him and sing for him. I was pleased he was better and out of danger, but we never did any of those things anymore. I rarely saw him at all really.

Then one day I was told I was summoned to a drawing room not usually used. There he was, with a newspaper in his hands, sitting in one of two comfy chairs around a coffee table with tea.

"You asked for me sir?" I asked as I walked over and curtsied.

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's Tom. And yes I did. Please, have a seat." He gestured to the empty chair across from him. I sat down nervously.

"I would like to talk to you about something that's been bothering me. You found my book…" I dropped my head and stared at my hands folded neatly in my lap.

"You have seen some things most couldn't imagine. I pity you for your pain and respect you for not following you father in his opinions on slavery."

"Yes, well thank you. But I really must apologize. There's no excuse for leaving such a heavy thing lying around where you or Fanny could see it. In no way should you have seen those drawings. I'm glad my father destroyed them, that way no one else need see them. They are heavy, as I'm sure you've discovered, and evil. Luckily, we just received word today that the abolition movement succeeded and the slaves are going to be illegal. We need not think about what has happened in the past. Now, how have you been?"

"Alright I think. I have to admit, I had trouble sleeping for a little while after that night, but I think the worst is over. As you said, slavery is illegal now, so we can be at peace. But I have not been sick, as you have. How are you feeling today?"

"Much better thank you. Even after what I had seen, what I did was very foolish. I should not have drunk the way I did. It certainly wasn't an escape from reality. I have been a burden to this house. I'm happy to say I am no longer. I have given up drinking for good. I wish to spend my time doing greater things than going to parties and getting drunk. I realized, through all this, that my friends are no friends at all. I was deserted by them, and yet you stood by me as though I was your brother, when I have been unkind to you in the past. On top of nursing me, you sang for me, and helped me carry a burden I would not have been able to hold without your help. For all this, I thank you."

"Well, that is my duty Sir, to stay where I'm told."

"I think we both know it was more than just your duty that kept you there. You had faith that I would see better days, you always have, and stood by me to help me get there all the sooner. Well, I can tell you the better days have arrived. I won't let you down Katherine, I promise." At this he laid his hand on mine and gently squeezed them in reassurance, but then left it there. I finally had the courage to look into his eyes, ad when I did I started to get nervous again. I had relaxed some during our conversation, but now I was all fluttering inside again.

"Katherine, there's something I've wanted to do for a long time. You, and others, might find it unethical, but I've already condemned myself to life at home out of society. As the heir of this estate, I can marry whom ever I please and it will go well with me. Because of that, I wish to have mercy on one who is, not to be harsh, but beneath us so that she may aspire in a position that much better suits her. As I watched you cleaning the room the other day, it disturbed me to know that that might be the rest of your life. It didn't suit you. I know this is sudden, but after your display of devotion and tenderness towards me, I feel it is appropriate. I wish to give my gift of a happy future to you, Katherine. I wish to make you as happy as money can buy. Please, I know you find me harsh and foolish, but please look past that at your future… as my wife."

"My dear Tom, I must tell you that I cannot do as you say. I cannot look to my future as your wife and the mistress of this estate." His face fell so suddenly I thought it would stay there permanently. All I could do was smile.

"I have no reason to look to my future or to that which you can offer me with money. I don't want you to pay for anything, for that is not why I would marry you… why I will marry you. I will marry you because I love you. And I do, Tom. I've seen the gentleness you posses for those you love and the wisdom you've gained not only these last few months that you've been ill, but also the wisdom you had the months before. You did not choose to do as your father wished. You instead chose what anyone in your position would, the attempt to empty your mind of those thoughts which tormented it. Of course, it may not have been the wisest method, but it was an act of desperation as I understand it. And anyone can forgive you for that. I do love you Tom. You are, as you said, in your better days now. I would be happy to marry you if you were nothing more than another servant. Position does not matter in my eyes, as it does not matter in God's. Only the heart matters and yours is pure, if not before, now. I just want you to be sure it is what you want, to marry me."

"Of course it's what I want. I wanted it years ago, when we were little before I started drinking, but our situation got in the way. Now, those feelings have been aroused once more. I was so concerned about my image and what my friends would think I disregarded my feelings as infatuation. But now, I see that they come from the truth." We were both smiling, but then, as the smiles faded slightly, he stood, taking my hands, and knelt before me.

"Katherine, would you be my wife?" I couldn't even smile. It was the most perfect story I could have ever hoped for. Of course I said yes. He stood and kissed me with the more passion than I was prepared for. We didn't have a very passionate story, but it was lovely none the less.

Of course, his parents were not too thrilled he was marrying a servant, but they soon got over it. As I said before, the whole family was rather taken with me. They knew I would be a good wife and mistress of Mansfield Park.

My prayers had all been answered. Fanny and Edmund were married shortly after Tom and I were engaged and we were married a few months after that. Tom never did go back to drinking and really did stay home most of the time. Of course, business called him away from time to time, but I waited patiently for his return. It was as Mrs. Bertram made it out to be, waiting for a husbands return. It was agony, not knowing if something dreadful had happened to him along the road, or if he would be coming back after a successful trip or a saddening one.

Even those I hadn't prayed for were somewhat happy. The Crawford's had finally found two poor souls that would make them as happy as could be expected.

God has blessed me in more ways that imaginable. We even took in a few freed slaves some time after Sir Thomas had passed. Life was good.

The End