A/N: Ok, so here I go. Sorry about the wait. It's hard because I want it to make sense, and sound at least a litttttttttleeeee like Bronte's words. It also takes a little while for me to get the different way of writing, so the first bits are always very un-Bronte sounding. Sorry. I can't just jump into the story like I always do. So I hope that waiting was worth it! *makes hopeful face*


The night had been horrid, taking an eternity to pass even a few minutes. Sleep evaded both Heathcliff and Cathy, the former all the more cross for it. He stood, preventing himself from yawning as he saw Nelly Dean ambling over. Her gait was not quite dignified –she was too homely for that –but she carried herself with all the pride she could muster. She greeting him coldly, as if they had never known each other; in truth, had Nelly the chance she would choose to never have met him in her lifetime. He blinked, once, twice. If he had taken anymore time to respond one might think he were simple as a dog. As if an afterthought, he proceeded.

"Mrs. Dean, would you be so kind as to take this note to Cathy?" Heathcliff asked, the smirk on his face his only form of expression. He hoped the lady would take it to Cathy, though she disliked him. He held it loosely in his hand, holding it from a corner as if it was something to be detested.

"Of course. Unlike some, I am a kind person."

"Oh, I could not be so sure of that were you, Mrs. Dean." The look she sent over her shoulder was enough to wilt the clumps of heath by the Heights. He merely smiled back at the lady, never letting the smile reach his eyes, leaving them cold and hard. Ellen Dean shuddered and quickened her step opting to be away from the great shadow.

She knocked on the door, lightly. She closed her eyes in a quick prayer; perhaps Mrs. Linton would have nothing to do with the brute.

"Come in," a weak voice answered. Ellen stepped in, instinctively placing her arms around her thin frame, not noticing that she dropped the letter from Heathcliff.

"It's so cold in here Cathy –oh! The window! Why is it open, you'll catch the chills again. We don't want that now, do we?" She positively ran towards the window, closing it with such vigor that a pane slightly cracked.

"No, but did Hea –"

"Come now, put this throw over your shoulder," the lady said, hurrying over to a blanket placed on a red couch. Picking it up, she started to talk, her words rarely ceasing.

"Now, I hope you had a nice night madam?"

"Of course, did Heath –"

"Certainly the window was closed all night?" She gingerly put the blanket over the upright form of Catherine, who had donned a very bothered face.

"No, I left it open in case –"

"Goodness, may the good Lord impede my heart. Why on earth would you leave it open! You are going to catch quite a cold one of these days. And the baby! We don't want it sick now as well, do we?" said she, muttering to herself as she walked closer to the door. The girl was mad, trying to kill herself for sure. "I'm going to get you some nice hot breakfast and tea, Mrs. Linton."

"You can call me Catherine." She called out after the receding shadow of Ellen. She leaned back on her pillows, content that the housekeeper had left, but with a heavy heart was saddened that Heathcliff had not asked for her.

"Heathcliff, you break my heart. If I die today, you'd not know how much I love you –need you. Come save me from this place."


The dark man paced the floor waiting, always waiting. What was keeping her so long? What would Cathy say? He saw Mrs. Dean, ever the fiend, and hastened his way over to her. He grabbed her shoulders in a similar way like he did earlier to his Cathy.

"What did she say?" When he got no answer he started to climb the steps, three at a time, but Ellen stopped him.

"You shan't bother her Heathcliff. She left her window open last night, but for how long she didn't tell me; I hope she hasn't caught her chills again, she just got better. She didn't say much, she certainly didn't ask about anyone, not even me." She said, tilting her head in remembrance. He coiled back, and stepped back down. Not dangerously, but slowly, deliberately.

"Honestly? No one at all? Not even I?" She shook her head. "Impossible."

Ellen's eyes widened as she remembered the note –she had forgotten to hand it to her. It was too late to tell though, and she could not possibly tell the great shadow that she had forgotten. He caught the change in the housekeeper's eyes; something was amiss. He grabbed her shoulders, and held her firmly, looking her straight in the face.

"You haven't done anything terrible have you?"

"Nothing you wouldn't have done, Mr. Heathcliff." He was not quite sure how to interpret her meaning, although he thought of terrible things she could have done, some of which were too terrible for his complicated mind to take. He let go of her with a heart wrenching shudder, and sat heavily on the steps. He was quite comparable, at this moment, to a dog with his tail in-between his legs. After a moment he groaned out from behind his hands, with which he had hidden his face, and stated:

"You've done her in, haven't you? Poisoned her tea perhaps? Stabbed her now, is that right? Or perhaps thrown her out the window; seems to be all the rage now over in Liverpool. But you might also have –"

"Stop it, Mr. Heathcliff. I'll have none of this nonsense," she bit her lip, contemplating if her next action would be acceptable. "Come on then, I'll take you to see her yourself. I wouldn't be so cruel as to show her to you dead now, would I?"

Heathcliff said nothing and was mellow. His face had a look of indifference, cold, almost as if there was not a thought of any importance in his dark head. She turned around and walked away the same way she came, ambling in a way that was so characteristically Nelly. She stopped after she did not hear Heathcliff's quiet footsteps behind her.

"Well, come on then."

He followed without a word and did not look up around him or take in any of his surroundings. His only thought now –though one couldn't tell –was of Cathy. The pain he had to endure because of her, so immense it almost outweighed the vast joy she caused him.


A/N: Oh dear, I must must must stop here, or else I will shoot the chapter into horrid little pieces. I'm liking my direction of the story, but I have a few possible paths I can take this by. Good Lord. If you have any questions, or and plot things you might like to see, please do tell me, and I could fit it in (also because I always draw a blank).

Was this chapter ok? I took forever in getting this up, I think that it has been a few months, but I am trying to update a few of my stories! But I wouldn't be on the edge of my seat just yet, and I am notoriously slow at doing even the fastest tasks slowly.

A tout de suite!

-Lorna Badeau