<div style="margin:20px; margin-top:5px"><div class="quotetitle"><input class="button2 btnlite" onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = '';      this.innerText = ''; this.value = 'Hide'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerText = ''; this.value = 'Show'; }" style="text-align:center;width:100px;margin:0px;padding:0px;" type="button" value="Show"/></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://img.poptower.com/pic-77315/the-tudors.jpg?d=600">[ img ]</a></div></div></div></div><br/><br/>Tenby, England, Home of the Cartwright family.<br/><br/>Tenby was, by no means, a big or a modern city. If compared to London, it would probably seem like another world. The people, the places, the trades, everything was different. Most of the trades held in Tenby were those essential for survival. Politics was pretty simple, and intrigue was non existant. Gossip was a reality, but just basic, small town gossip, such as whose son was courting whose daughter, or why a certain youngster was not bethrothed yet.<br/><br/>The beauty the town could offer, though, was enough to make it worth dealing with a much bigger amount of gossip. The seaside peace it offered, and the rustic look of the town would probably be lost to foreign eyes, but held close to the hearts of those born and raised in Tenby. Unlike William Blakeslee, Catherine Cartwright had lived in Tenby her whole life, just like her parents and grandparents before her. And she would not have it any other way, given the choice. Her plan in life was to live in Tenby for the rest of her days, and raise a family there. Naturally, if the man she was to marry had different ideas, she would, as a good wife, follow him wherever he went. In her dreams, though, that was not the case. She could only hope her dreams would come true.<br/><br/>And in her romantic dreams, sometimes, a specific person came to her mind. She could not have a particular image for a while, since he had been away for so long. But more than once, his name was the last word murmured by her lips as she laid herself to sleep after the nightly prayers. Every letter dispatched to him as he was out carried with it pieces of her heart and her hope. Yes, Catherine did know she was not supposed to get her hopes up. After so many years, maybe he wouldn't even remember what she looked like. Still, she refused to believe so.<br/><br/>In that particular afternoon, though, it was not romance which brought him to her doorstep. It was something more serious and less joyful. Mister Cartwright had been feeling indisposed for the past week, and after much pressure from his only daughter did he agree to have a doctor look at his condition. Catherine was at her father's bedside, seemingly tired and concerned, but the knocks on the door made her stand  up and dash for the entrance. It had to be him. With a sigh and running her hands on the crimson dress she wore, a simpler one, more suitable for staying home than for having company,<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">Why did I not wear something better?</span></span>, she opened the door and took a step back.<br/><br/>Was that<span style="font-style: italic">her</span>William? Her lifelong friend? He looked so... grown up, and serious. And extremely handsome, she had to admit. It was with some hesitation that the young woman took another step back so the doctor could step in. Forcing herself to think he was her childhood friend, and not a stranger, Catherine brought herself to hold out her arm and touch one of William's hands. "Thank you so much for coming, Will. William, I apologize. Should I call you Doctor Blakeslee, now?", she asked, as her hands now motioned to help him with his coat. "Father has been unwell, but I believe it is a cold and nothing more. At least I hope so. I would have sent for help sooner, but there was none, before you came back, and it took me some time to convince him to allow me to send for you."