Catherine bolted upright instantly, ripping apart the hangings surrounding her bed with her heart in her mouth. Peering into the surrounding gloom, she realised it must still be the middle of the night – and suddenly everything came rushing back. Dr Lovell would have visited by now and delivered his final verdict, the thought of which made Catherine feel as if she might faint. Why had nobody thought to wake her? Surely her parents and Sir William knew that she would wish to be informed of the news!

Unless it was bad news – in that case, Catherine's parents would almost certainly want to conceal the information from her. And in that moment, Catherine felt as if her world had ceased to turn entirely, as she realised that it must be so. Mr and Mrs Taylor were no doubt inconsolable with grief at this very moment, but at the same time determined to spare Catherine the anguish for now. The person frantically knocking at Catherine's door now must then be Sir William – he would have the sense to realise that Catherine needed to be made aware of Bessie's situation; regardless of how much she would suffer for it.

With shaking hands Catherine attempted to fasten her dressing gown, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the tears on the verge of leaking out. She wanted nothing more than to remain in bed and howl with misery, but if she did not allow Sir William to enter soon he might well break down the door in his frantic efforts to get her attention.

"Come in," she attempted to say, but her windpipe seemed to have constricted such that she could barely manage more than a whisper.

She must have been audible enough, for not a moment later the door was flung open and a nightgown-clad figure came rushing in – except it was not Sir William at all, but in fact Catherine's mother who came hurtling towards her.

Catherine was unable to see Mrs Taylor's expression, as her face was completely obscured by her handkerchief – but as she came closer, it became apparent that the garment was soaked with tears. Mrs Taylor uttered a small sob without looking up at her daughter, and the pitiful sight caused Catherine's stomach to lurch with grief. If it had been Sir William stood in front of her now, Catherine might just have been able to accept the news without falling apart – but the sight of her mother's utter misery caused something powerful to stir deep inside her.

For so long Catherine had been the one to remain strong; through each of Bessie's ailments she had been the one to comfort Mrs Taylor, rather than the other way round. For so long it had been Catherine forced into the position of responsibility; forced to hold herself together as her mother fell apart. But now, faced with the unthinkable prospect of a life without Bessie, Catherine suddenly found herself overwhelmed by all the suppressed emotions of the past thirteen years. They came bubbling up inside her like a gushing spring, until Catherine simply could not hold them back any longer – and for the first time in a very long while, Catherine collapsed into her mother's arms and broke down.

Mrs Taylor staggered a little under the unanticipated weight, but recovered quickly, gently patting Catherine on the back. By now, though, Catherine was sobbing freely – gasping, choking sobs which echoed loudly around the bedchamber – and was completely inconsolable.

"What am I to do without her, Mama?" she wailed, wishing the iron fist slowly crushing her chest would release its hold. "She is the most important person in my life – how am I to survive without her?"

"Without her – Catherine, whatever do you mean?" spluttered Mrs Taylor, removing Catherine from her bosom and holding her at arm's length, so that she might peer searchingly into her daughter's blotchy, tearstained face.

Catherine forced herself to meet her mother's gaze, expecting to see an anguished expression mirroring her own. Mrs Taylor, however seemed simply to look concerned for Catherine's wellbeing, and Catherine felt her breath catch in her throat in disbelief; this was not the expression of a woman who had just been told she was to lose one of her children.

"Mama?" breathed Catherine, refusing to allow herself to hope. "She is going to die, isn't she?"

"My dear Catherine!" cried Mrs Taylor. "I cannot think where you have got that idea! Did you not hear Dr Lovell in Bessie's room just now? Bessie is going to live, Catherine! Dr Lovell says she will make a full recovery!"

"Oh, Mama!"

Catherine felt as if the world were turning in slow motion as she struggled to comprehend Mrs Taylor's words. With hearts too full to speak, mother and daughter simply embraced in a whirlwind of tears and joy and laughter, and Catherine felt all the worry of the past few days melting away.

The commotion in Catherine's bedchamber had attracted the attention of Mr Taylor and Sir William, who both appeared in the doorway now, beaming at the tender scenes of felicitation before them.

"You have told her, I take it?" smiled Sir William knowingly.

Catherine withdrew from the embrace, trying to catch her breath. The initial shock was beginning to wear off, and her eyes lit up suddenly as something occurred to her.

"May I see her?" she begged, eyes travelling hopefully between her parents and uncle. "She is recovering, after all, and Dr Lovell said I might see her if she began to recover."

Such was Mrs Taylor's dazed state of happiness that she almost consented unthinkingly, but Sir William was more shrewd and cautious.

"I do not think that is exactly what the doctor said, Catherine," said Sir William in a gentle but firm voice, causing Catherine to colour slightly. "Did he not say you would only be permitted to enter Bessie's bedchamber once you have recovered fully from your cold?"

Catherine hung her head in defeat.

"Yes, Uncle," she said meekly.

"We will have to wait and see what the doctor says when he next visits."

Much to Catherine's displeasure, Dr Lovell did indeed tell Catherine that she would have to wait just a little longer before being able to visit Bessie in her bedchamber. Bessie was still in an extremely vulnerable position, he said, and it would be foolish to hinder her recovery now rather than wait another couple of days to make sure that Catherine was indeed back to full health. He spoke sense, of course, so Catherine willingly obliged – but the next couple of days' waiting, after all the anxiety she had already experienced, was almost more than Catherine could bear. This was the longest time she had ever spent at Donbroke without entering her sister's bedchamber, and she missed Bessie more, if possible, than when she had been in Barnbury.

When Catherine was eventually granted admission into Bessie's bedchamber two days later, however, she truly felt it had been worth the wait. She felt quite wild with joy when Dr Lovell broke the news to her, just about managing to refrain from throwing her arms around the good man – but now, as she stood on the threshold of the very room she had been desperate to visit this entire week, Catherine found herself hesitating, trembling with anticipation.

The scene that met her eyes could not have been more different from that the last time she was in Bessie's sickroom. As Catherine peeked inside, she found herself hit by dazzling sunlight pouring in from the uncovered window, giving the room a bright, cheery feel. Encouraged by this change from the dull gloom she had previously witnessed, Catherine walked in, eyes instantly focusing in on the tiny figure still occupying the bed.

"Oh, Bessie!" cried Catherine, rushing over to the bedside chair, completely overcome with emotion.

Bessie's condition had improved dramatically since the last time Catherine had seen her. Though she still looked very pale and sickly, and was still bed-ridden, she was now sitting up in bed, with open eyes and a delighted smile illuminating her face.

"Catherine!" she cried excitedly, nestling comfortably into Catherine's extended arms with a contended sigh. Moments later, though, the small girl drew back, brow furrowed in a frown.

"You are supposed to be in Barnbury," said Bessie suspiciously. "I have not been unwell for that many weeks, have I?"

"Do not fret, dear - it has only been a fortnight since I departed for Somerset," Catherine told her soothingly. "As soon as Mama sent word of your illness, I had to return immediately."

Catherine lovingly stroked her sister's golden hair as she spoke, noticing sorrowfully how it had become dull and lifeless during Bessie's illness. Rather than being comforted by her sister's gesture, however, Bessie swatted Catherine's hand away impatiently.

"You were supposed to be in Somerset in order to enjoy yourself," said Bessie fretfully. "You were supposed to have fun, because you are not able to amuse yourself when you are caring for me. Now I have spoiled your visit. I always spoil everything for you, Catherine! I cannot bear it!"

Tears were now trickling delicately down Bessie's pasty cheeks, and the sight just about broke Catherine's heart. Instantly enveloping her sister in her arms again before she could protest, Catherine held Bessie to her bosom and rocked her backwards and forwards gently, as she had done many times years ago when Bessie was an infant.

"You do not spoil things for me, Bessie – never think that!" cried Catherine in a strangled voice. "You are the person I care the most about in the whole world. When I thought that – that you might – I could not bear to be without you!"

Now Catherine was sobbing too, and for a long while the girls simply clutched each other in a tearful embrace, both crying freely and noisily until they ran out of tears. By the time their hysteria had subsided both looked just as bedraggled and emotionally exhausted as the other, and once they recovered enough both giggled feebly at the state of themselves, before lapsing into a thoughtful silence.

"May I join you?" asked Catherine after a while. When they were both younger Catherine would often sneak into Bessie's room at night, and the pair would snuggle down under the covers together. Bessie eagerly lifted the blankets now, and Catherine happily nestled in beside her sister. After all the uncertainty of the past couple of weeks, Catherine found herself feeling more peaceful and at ease than she had in a very long while. It was a relief to be able to relax for a few moments, without having to worry about social etiquette and ladylike behaviour.

"I am sorry you had to return early, Catherine – but I am so glad to see you," murmured Bessie after another short period of contented silence.

"My time in Somerset was not as pleasurable as I expected, so you must not feel any guilt, for I was quite glad to come home," admitted Catherine without shame; she and Bessie could be completely open about this sort of thing. "Nobody in Barnbury is half as nice as you, dear."

"What happened?" inquired Bessie, wriggling back up into a sitting position with interest.

The heartfelt words of Catherine's letter floated into her mind; words that Bessie had never actually read, as she had been taken ill before Catherine's letter would have been posted. It was rather odd – at the time of writing those words, Catherine had been aching to discuss its contents with Bessie in person, but now she realised that she felt better for having expressed those difficult feelings on paper, even if they never did reach Bessie after all.

Catherine found she had no wish to discuss the events at Barnbury at present. For now she simply wished to enjoy this special moment of happiness with her sister, untarnished by the unpleasant memories of all that she had experienced during her time away.

"I will share my tales with you in due course, dear," promised Catherine. "But I do not wish for anything to spoil this perfect moment between us. There will be plenty of time for us to talk at leisure about Barnbury and all its inhabitants – for I feel certain I shall not be returning there for a very long time."