BEFORE READING:

So, I have been writing this story for quite sometime now and been posting it around ...mostly on North and South related sites and I had to wonder if it would be all right to post it on a GWTW board, but finally I thought why not .. Now, for those who have not seen North and South (the English one from 2004), I don't think it's necessary for you to understand the story and I always try in my stories to explain things as well I can. Hope you like it and feed-back is most welcomed!

Chapter I – Faces and masks

To try to describe a strange being like Catherine Butler is truly an adventure. To be able to understand her is almost impossible, for her soul is filled with songs of loneliness and thoughts of quiet that don't torment nor scare her but that she encourages with infinite pleasure. It is safe to say that she was born Katie Colum O'Hara and slowly became Katie Colum Butler at her fathers insistence and upgraded to Catherine Butler at her own obstinate claims at the age of 7. "I am not a Katie Colum", she cried out … "I'm Catherine the Great of Rome"…. "Of course you are", her mother replied amused but did not fight the change … she knew it to be a useless struggle and she enjoyed the determination of her child's character …. The name of the town changed over the years, as they moved from country to country making use of their self imposed situation as "inhabitants of the world" … but her title stuck … somehow it fit … her bravado was always something to marvel at.

They moved right after her mother died, from Barcelona to New York … the thought of being in the same place where they had lost a person of such importance to them was unthinkable to her and her father …"Losing your half must be the hardest thing in the world … You are condemned to live with half of your body for the rest of your life", Catherine thought when she looked at her father at the funeral. His once boyish grin and ironic look had transformed into a bitter sadness that day and they were never seen again. Of course he still kept his humor and joy of life that Catherine knew she still brought to him, but it was never the same.

Still, New York was good to them for the next 5 years and for the first time Catherine had no woods to run to because they lived right in the middle of the city. She was introduced into society.

Her father thought she would hate it. He knew his daughter to be a free spirit and he was afraid that the rules any society lives by would result in a strong opposition on his daughter's part. But he was frightened by the thought of Cat spending all her life alone … People, he thought, are social creatures … they have to be surrounded by others such as them to live a truly complete life …

His fears soon proved to be wrong. Although, Catherine refused to conform to all of the social rules imposed to young ladies of certain breeding and means, as long as she could, from time to time escape them or even worse, flaunt her disrespect at them, she found her social functions quite entertaining and fascinating, even though at times they caused her infinite amusement. She soon became the toast of New York society and her father was surprised to find that she reminded him of a certain young lady he had met a long time ago at Twelve Oaks surrounded by her southern beaus. "She is your daughter, Scarlett O'Hara. Although, I do believe she has a little more common sense them you", he would say often with a sad smile that reminded him of times that would never come back again.

The ones that were truly thankful for her father's decision, however, were, of course, the men. She was so different from any other woman they had ever met that they couldn't help feeling attracted to her, almost inexplicably. She never seemed to search for the attention of anyone and you could always sense an acute need for independence and self contentment that men, given their rather predatory nature, could not resist. Even her physical appearance made her different. Her green, cat like eyes, her black hair and seductive lips were not uncommon, and although that did not take from their beauty it was her skin that made everyone take notice. It was quite common for young, well-brought up ladies to have perfect, white skin that they protected almost as fiercely as their virginity. Catherine, on the other hand, was born with honey like skin that had preserved its self intact and she could not help that, not even if she had wished it. In concerns to her virginity, she was in no danger of losing it either because, although she did like the attentions of the men that surrounded her (she could not deny her vanity was satisfied and they were quite entertaining), she did not find herself interested in anyone in particular for the longest time. Until there was him ….

William Redcliff … from one of the most respected families in New York, experimented horseman and graduate of West Point… amateur philosopher and singer and sometimes poet … handsome, blond hair, brown eyes and conveniently honey-like skin … He was, by all accounts, the perfect American gentleman.

Catherine found herself admiring his large, perfect smile one night while they were having dinner at the Brown's. It was the first time she had seen him and the first time she felt her knees go soft. She knew not what attracted her to him but she suspected it was the pleasure he took in the life he was living that she, at times, felt an acute urge to escape from. She thought that maybe if he would love her, she would finally feel she had a person to call her own and to which she could give herself to. Being completely free and alone was fine with Catherine but for the first time, that night, she acknowledged the fact that she needed someone to look at her the way her father used to look at her mother.

During the night they were introduced. He had a pleasant voice, especially when he was talking about West Point and his views on the perfect life: "Sunny days filled with smiles and the complete lack of any kind of opposition … that is what I call the perfect life. Don't you agree, Miss Butler?", he said cheerfully.

"I believe the perfect life comes from the people you decide to share it with. If they are the right ones neither storms, tears nor the strongest kind of opposition could ever destroy the serenity of one's life, Mr. Redcliff". Catherine smiled when seeing a strange kind of admiration rise in William Redcliff's eyes. He added quickly:

"I will write you a poem tonight. You deserve to be the muse of the greatest poets that ever lived but unfortunately you will have to content yourself with me".

He kept to his word and many poems were written in the following weeks. Although Catherine would have preferred a long walk and rational discussions, she soon discovered that when it came to William Redcliff, she took whatever was offered.

She heard him mention once that he loved lilies, so lilies were immediately planted in the Butler garden. He once said that he did not like lavender. She threw the bottle of perfume instantly. These were small change and in regards to things that Catherine did not have a strong attachment to … in those respects they never had the slightest disagreement, perhaps because they never talked about important things for any extended periods of time … but William did begin to cause some subtle changes in her, and in a obstinate creature as Catherine Butler the slightest change is the result of a much bigger issue.

Her best friend, Mary Andrews (an other independent soul that vowed never to marry anyone that disagreed with Darwin) noticed the difference immediately:

"You are in love with William Redcliff. Do not deny it, Cat", she added when Catherine tried to cut in, "it's quite useless. You can not hide it."

"Nonsense"

"It was bound to happen eventually and you could have done much worse, I suppose", Mary added with serene resignation.

"Well, I'm truly glad that I have your approval, Mary. I don't know what I would have done otherwise", Catherine replied winking. She knew she had nothing to worry on Mary's part. She liked William very much even though she did not like to admit it.

But the months went by and William did not give any indication that he was interested in making their acquaintance more profound then just a strong friendship. She did not understand him.

She still didn't understand him now. Now that she was on a boat going to England. She did not understand his reaction when she told him she was leaving New York to join her father on his ventures overseas, a reaction that seemed truly of disappointment, or his lack of solution to their sudden separation. She was sure that if William had proposed marriage, her father would not have opposed it, because, although he had never said anything about William, he knew that he was what she desired.

But William remained silent.

There was, however reason for joy, because before joining her father, she was to stop in London to visit Ashley Wilkes and his family, which had settled there over ten years ago, ever since Beau had established a lumber business there. She was going to see Beau and Billy, which she missed terribly. They were, after all, the closest thing she had ever had to brothers.

But not even that could change her sense of loss at thinking that she might never see William again. That she had lost her only chance to share her life with someone else. The thought of being the wife of an other or even to be loved by an other man repulsed her completely. She only wanted William to have those feelings for her. That confession she made to herself made her cry out in desperation… "William, come for me!" and she buried he face down in her pillow trying to hide her tears …

So there she was … Catherine Butler … on a boat that would take her over an ocean and ultimately to a small town of Milton, she had never heard of, and ever so more apart from the first man to ever write her poetry.

"Make sure to visit Edith and especially Sheldo … you know how much he looks up to you … oh, and my aunt Shaw". Margaret stopped at seeing her son cringe at the thought of spending an afternoon with a woman who thought cotton was for peasants. She smiled: "I know, I know … she can be quite tiresome, but if you do not go I will never hear the end of it. If I was feeling better I would have come with you and speared you the aggravation but this cold is going to keep me in for quite some time, I'm afraid".

James Thornton was sitting at his desk trying to finish some last minute issues that had to be resolved before going to London. "Anything for you mother", he said smiling before being absorbed once again by his business.

He did not want to go on a trip when there was so much that required his immediate attention at the mill but he could no do otherwise. Fanny's daughter was getting married and as head of the family he had to be there.

"You must not forget to talk to the lawyer to draw the papers for the new machine", his grandmother stepped in with her well known practicality, "I've heard Slikson saying that his is already on the way".

"What Slikson says and what the reality is are two different things. Especially since he lost a great deal of money on useless speculations", Thornton said leaving his chair quite irritated.

"Well,", his mother interrupted "business is important of course", she continued arrangeing her son's collar, "but we must remember this is a wedding and you are allowed to have fun", she said looking at her mother-in-law, "and who knows maybe even …"

A look of reproch from her son silenced Margaret. "I am 32 years old. I think I am quite capable to give the bride away and take care of my business", he pauses for a minute and then he added: "and even spend an hour in Aunt Shaw's company without needing guidelines or protection". James loved his mother and grandmother but sometimes they still treated him as if he was twelve years old.

"So do not worry! Both of you!", he concluded smiling.

Margaret loved that smile. It reminded her of the man she still loved so much and had lost too early. In fact, everything about her son reminded her of John. His face, his voice, his decided character. They were all there present so she would never forget what she once had. She was grateful for that.

"All right, Jamie. Have a safe trip and I am done nagging. I promise", she says caressing his face.

Hannah continues to saw. It was not in her nature to show affection, although she felt it. As strong as she had once felt it for his father. After her son had died, James was the only reason she was still living. She knew she could not die until she made sure he would be a true and worthy descendent of John Thornton.

James understood the love that his family had for him and with it, the immense burden of the hopes both those women had placed upon his shoulders … the hard task of replacing a great man that they had both loved so much. Even before he knew what his own wishes were, he was sure that he had to do anything in his power to fulfill theirs. Luckily for him, controlling the mill was not a task that his own character felt against … All to the contrary, ever since he was old enough, he knew that he wanted to take up his father's business.

The train to London crossed many interesting landscapes. He did not see any of them. He was too absorbed in his problems even to take notice. He must talk to Bill Wilkens about the machine. They would probably have to travel to Liverpool together. It had costed a lot of money, but investing in modernizing his mill always seemed good business sense to James Thornton. Luckily, the Wilkens's would come to the wedding seen that they were close friends of the Watson family.

A two week prewedding affair seemed excessive to James but then again, everything Aunt Fanny did was excessive.

He would not stay there for the entire period. After all, he did have important things to do. He could not be expected to spend 2 weeks playing pool and talking about British politics. He really did not understand how men in the South could spend their entire lives doing next to nothing. Of course, his mother would most likely disagree with him.

Although, Margaret Hale was now completely Margaret Thornton, the memory of the south and it's serene and green life still lingered in her mind. He knew that and understood her and he even had to admit that southern ladies did hold a certain claim on him. With their milky skin, idealistic eyes and perfect manners they would most deffinatly make for exemplar wives, although until the present he had not found any one in particular to determine him to take the necessary step.

As he finally got off the train in London, a young lady smiled at him and then quickly disappeared under the safety of her umbrella. She was dressed with a beautiful, summer, white muslin traveling dress with her blond hair pulled back in a complicated fashion.

It was not uncommon for him to experience such events. He felt amused and acknowledged the fact that the woman was, by all criteria, quite beautiful.

"I wondered what she would think if she knew I was a cotton manufacturer from Milton?"

"You are even more beautiful then I remember. Of course you were just a lass when I saw you last. You have grown in quite the young lady". Harriet Wilkines was sitting on the chair in the salon looking straight at Catherine as she sipped her tea and tried to eliminate the traveling air that surrounded her ever since she got off the boat.

"If only your poor mother would be here to see you. She would take such pride in it".

The mention of her mother brought on some very sad feelings but also amusement. Harriet was the only person Catherine ever heard call her mother "poor". It was obvious she did not know Scarlett O'Hara Butler well. The only thing she had ever been poor in was common sense, as her father would say.

It was also obvious that Harriet had not been able to rid herself completely of her Irish connection. "God knows how many looks and words she has had to putt up with!", Catherine thought. She knew exactly how the English felt about the Irish, and it was not a good feelings altogether.

"You do look so much like your mother", Ashley interrupted, "the same good disposition and lively eyes". Ashley still appreciated those features of character that were so foreign in his own person.

"But look at us", Harriet jumped as if she had remembered something, "keeping you in the salon when you must be exhausted after your long journey. I will take you to the room. I hope you like it. You'll have a wonderful view."

"Oh, but I don't feel tired at all. On the contrary, I wish to stay with you longer so you can tell me about your life here seeing as we'll be sharing the same country", Catherine joked, "honestly … and I want to see Billy and Beau … I did miss them so!"

But Harriet was so determined to send Catherine to rest that she could not be convinced otherwise even if her husband would have liked more time with their guest. "Besides, Billy is gone on business. He'll be back in two days. And Beau is at the office. You'll see him tonight and catch up! But until then, it's time to rest."

The room was indeed very beautiful, but honestly, what did Harriet think she had done on the boat? Work at the coal engines? There were very few things you could do on a boat, other the rest. Besides, she did not want to be left alone with her thoughts, for there was no escaping William Redcliff.

She took a long bath and she thought of him. Quite shameful thoughts that made her blush.

She wrote her father a letter announcing she had arrived in London… and she thought of him. The memory of their discussions seemed so much more intense now, the occasionally touches, his breath accidentally touching her face … it all took an erotic connotation in Catherine's mind until she came to the conclusion that she would eventually find her way back to him. It couldn't be otherwise. And she would find a way to make him as much in love with her as she was with him.

After three hours of day dreaming that did her more harm than good, it was finally time to go to dinner. Beau had come from work and she was grateful to have something else to occupy her mind. Her "elected brother", as she liked to call him, was as happy and active as she remembered and she was glad to see that he was doing something important that gave him a lot of pride:

"Oh, yes, the business is going very well. And you can not belive the sense of accomplishment a finished building has on you. To know that you participated in something that will last long after you are gone", he went on and on, with an excitement that Catherine fully enjoyed and participated in. "But, Cat .. Enough of business. How rude of me! To go on about wood and bricks when I have such a goddess by my side. You are even more beautiful! I did not think it was possible".

"Hush, Beau, stop it! You are going to make me blush and you know how much I hate that!", Catherine stopped him with infinite tenderness …

"I'm truly sorry but I can not avoid it … I shall have to protect you like a hawk for as long as you are here! Oh, and at the wedding …"

"What wedding?"

"Oh, yes … you shall have to go to the wedding", Harriet suddenly mentioned

"What wedding?" Catherine asked again with increasing curiosity.

"The Watson one. Fanny Watson .. remember I wrote you about her … a friend of mine?", Harriet explained, "her eldest daughter, Eleanor is getting married … to a German count apparently" …

"Oh …" Catherine seemed to remember Harriet mentioning something about that friend of hers …

"It will be quite the event, Cat. Quite a long affair, lasting two weeks and you'll get to enjoy the country side and get to know English men". Catherine looked at Ashley alarmed. She could hardly believe her ears. Beau noticed it too so they both bursted out laughing.

"I am quite serious", Ashley continued, feeling obviously in his own element, "English men are an option worth exploring, Cat" and started laughing himself.

Fanny Watson, she had now been informed, was the widow of a very rich and lucky investment agent that had speculated big and won just as much. He had been dead for quite a while now and left behind his wife and two daughters: Eleanor and Charlotte.

The country house was not far away from London and they traveled with the Wilkens coach. Billy had come back and joined them on the journey. He had not changed much either. A much more silent type then Beau, but still with a pleasant disposition.

"It is fortunate that this trip came up, otherwise I should have traveled again and would not be able to spend more time with you"

"How so?", Catherine asked. Billy did seem to be traveling a great deal.

"Well, I have a client that has bought a quite sophisticated machinery that is due to arrive in Liverpool in a few days but there are still a few details to take care of before that. Luckily he is Mrs. Watson's nephew and as such he will be present at the wedding."

"Well, then, I very much like your client even if I've never met him. He has the most convenient relatives", Catherine lighthearttly replied

"Well, enough of business! Cat, I desire you to try to like Mrs. Watson and her daughters", Beau said with a peculiar smile on his face …

Catherine paused for a minute to look at him and then at his brother that shared the same suspect look. "Why?", she asked with suspicion

Beau did not answer, but continued smiling …"I suppose that Charlotte Watson should be of particular interest to me", she replied amused … Beau was in love, she could tell. She was happy for him …

"It's not that she should be of particular interest", Beau said trying to hide his intentions. "But I do think that you might find you have a great deal in common with the younger Miss Watson. For example, she plays the piano almost as well as you", he added quickly remembering Catherine's fondness for the piano …

"Quite better, I should suspect", Catherine teased.

"Oh, no. I did not say that but …"

"But … ", Catherine interrupted, "I'm sure she will make a perfect partner for a duet" and put her hand on his … Beau was satisfied …

When they arrived at the house, they were greeted by a Mr. Robinson, the administrator of the estate that told them the family was out on business and that they would be back in the evening. Meanwhile, he was given instructions to show the guests to their rooms. Almost as soon as they entered the house the rain started to fall hard.

Once in her room, Catherine felt a sense of agitation that sometimes overpowered her. She had realized that there had been quite a while since she had walked through the grass barefoot.

She took off her shoes and pantyhose, let her hair down and ran outside in the garden.

The grass was soft and worm and the rain filled her with energy. She was once again at peace. She started running around laughing as she used to do in the woods when she was younger, with her arms extended as if ready to take flight.

She finally stopped in one place and started spinning around looking at the sky. All of a sudden she noticed a shadow on the ground. She stopped and looked around to find a man sitting in the entrance of the garden. She felt his eyes fixated on her. His dark blue eyes. She felt them almost as if they were burning her skin. He did not move, he did not speak but he did not remove his eyes from her either. She felt as if she was naked in front of him, or even worse, exposed. In front of a stranger. The thought was too much to bare so she turned away from that look and started running as fast as she could. Where, she did not know … Just as far away from those eyes as possible.

So, what do you think so far?