Claire was staring down at a plate of food. A very expensive plate of food. What's more she was gripping a knife and fork.
Wha…What?
Her head snapped from the plate of food in order to survey the rest of her surroundings.
She was in a large dining room, seated at what seemed to be an overly large table. It seemed overly large because there were only three occupants including her. There were also three maids standing at the ready around the room, but they obviously made no use of the table.
The more she looked around the less sense it made. She had no idea where she was, and panic was beginning to set in. Her hand involuntarily loosened on the knife and fork and they fell onto the plate with a clang.
The abrupt noise seemed deafening considering the dining room was completely silent a moment ago. The well dressed older man was at the head of the table, and equally well dressed younger man a few chairs down jolted. Startled by the noise they both immediately looked up at Claire.
Their startled expressions soon changed into ones of annoyance, and the older man cleared his throat before speaking.
"Well what is it this time Catherine? What possible complaint could you have about the food now?"
Claire jumped out of her chair, sending it toppling backwards. She faced both of the men, her arms crossed in an involuntary defensive stance.
The expressions of contempt had now switched back to surprise. They were expecting her to have done something but certainly not this. The older man once again spoke.
"Good lord Catherine. What in the world are you doing?"
Claire was inching her way backwards from the table. She then audibly gasped.
"You…You're," She strained out.
In that moment a flood of memories entrenched her mind. Memories that weren't hers. They were coming in faster than she could process, the volume quickly overwhelmed her mental capacities.
Claire grabbed the top of her head and screamed. The pain was overwhelming. She couldn't think straight at all. The intense assault on her mind was too much and she could feel herself losing consciousness again.
Wait again? When did I pass out befo…
She couldn't finish the thought. She had already collapsed onto the floor.
Both men Jumped out of their seats and were rushing towards her. But one of the maids had been closer to the girl and was immediately upon her checking her forehead.
"Sirs she's burning up," She said with a slight panic in her voice.
Both the men had reached Claire and the older one was bending down in order to feel her forehead to check for himself.
"How could that be? She was completely fine a moment ago!" He said with shock.
But the maid was correct. Claire's forehead was extremely hot to the touch. The older man removed his hand and looked towards his younger counterpart.
"Arthur! take her to her bedroom!" He was practically shouting.
He then turned his attention to the maid that had initially taken the temperature.
"You should alert one of the couriers that he needs to send for a doctor," He expressed, a little calmer this time.
The women nodded and rushed out of the dining room. The older gentleman stood up collecting himself. The man identified as Arthur was gathering up the unconscious girl in his arms. The other maids in the room had gathered closer. The older man's gaze flicked to them.
"I need you two to gather up more servants to begin preparing to help Lady Catherine with her sickness," He stated matter of factly, finally having composed himself.
"Yes Sir," One of the maids replied.
Arthur had finally risen holding the unconscious body close to his chest in a bridal style carry. The maids rushed ahead of him in order to hold open the dining room doors, but as soon as he was out of the room both parties split in order to accomplish their assigned tasks.
The older noble stood there for a minute, his mind racing. He then realized that he had sent everyone off and he was standing in the room alone.
He walked back over to the fallen chair where Catherine had been eating. He picked it up, putting it back into place. It hit him that he had once again delegated others to his own daughters well being and he hadn't lifted a finger.
Well it's for the best anyway. How would floundering around help anything?
It was true to some extent. He couldn't have lifted his daughter like his son could, and the maids had a system for these types of things. The older gentleman had not left where his daughter had been eating. The back of the chair was still clasped in his hands.
I should probably stay clear. I wouldn't want to get in the way of the maids or the doctor.
It was a logical assessment. His daughter had been unconscious anyway; it's not like anyone's presence would be at all helpful in any regard.
But that face she made, it was like she had seen a ghost! That scream was also…horrible.
It was clear something was seriously wrong, and he was worried. He finally made up his mind.
No, not this time. Even If I just sit quietly in the corner I'm going to be there.
With that he headed out of the dining room, towards Catherine's bedroom.