Angel in Black (37 page)

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Authors: Fela Dawson Scott

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance, #Romance/Historical

BOOK: Angel in Black
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“Beat her?” Li cried, alarmed. “Beat me if you must, but surely you would not beat a sick woman? It would kill her!”

Something in her voice, the fear in her eyes, made Trevor turn his gaze back to the woman he held firmly in his grasp. For the first time, he noticed the deathly pallor of her skin and the glassy eyes staring blankly at him. His hands could feel her shaking violently, and something told him it was not from fright. A small worry worked its way into his mind and he turned back to the other woman. “What is wrong with her?”

Li blinked at the fierceness in his voice and hesitated. Trevor released Katrina and demanded, “She hasn’t got the plague, has she?” he whispered, suddenly fearful. “Tell me, girl.”

“No,” answered Li, her eyes wide with fear. “No, she is with child.”

Katrina felt the world sway and she fought to maintain consciousness, but a black void persisted, easing its way into her mind. A cold clamminess washed over her, and slowly, Katrina gave in to the darkness enclosed about her. But as she sank into oblivion, Li’s words echoed in her mind —
she is with child
.

 

A
LMOST FOUR MONTHS HAD
passed since Blake’s sudden departure, and Ryon had received no word of his whereabouts. He and Rebecca remained in London as long as possible, hoping Blake might contact them, but now they prepared to leave for Windsong. Sitting alone in the library, pain plagued Ryon, as it had since Blake’s disappearance. His brother’s actions left him helpless and frustrated. Yet, he wished for his return; a terrible argument would be better than waiting, and not knowing where he was or if he was all right. If he were here, Ryon could make an effort to explain and make things right. Sighing, Ryon stood, intending to seek out Rebecca and his daughter. They always eased the sorrow.

Just as Ryon reached the staircase, a knock at the door diverted his attention. He answered it himself and was surprised to find John standing there.

“John. Come in, come in.” He reached out to grasp John’s extended hand and greeted his friend happily. “What brings you to London?”

“I’ve come to see Blake. Is he here?”

John had not seen them since the funeral, so he did not know of Blake’s disappearance. “He is gone, John. I don’t know when he will be back.”

At John’s grave look of concern, Ryon took him into the library and explained everything. When he finished John stood, furious. “How could he possibly believe that woman’s slanderous lies? Kat did nothing but love him. Is he such a bastard he would think her capable of doing such horrendous things?”

Ryon understood how John must feel but came to his brother’s defense. “He nearly went mad with grief, John. Catherine’s lies were the breaking point for him. He loved Katrina — we both know it, though I doubt he fully realized it himself. My brother is not a man who gives love easily, and when it was taken from him, he couldn’t cope. For whatever reasons, Blake believed the lying bitch. Now he is gone and I fear he may never return to find out the truth.”

Pouring two whiskeys, he handed one to John. “Why did you need to speak with Blake? It must be urgent to make you ride to London.”

John ran an impatient hand through his hair, came to a quick decision and said, “She is alive, Ryon. I received a brief message from her three days ago. I came straight here.”

He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Ryon.

“She’s alive?” Confused, Ryon unfolded the note with trembling hands.

Dearest Johnny,

I know you’ll be shocked to get this, but I am alive and well. I cannot explain now and no one must know, except Blake. You must tell him in person. I will be unable to reach London until spring of next year. Please, no one else must know. Destroy this note after you read it.

— Always my love, Kat

“Katrina is alive?” The words came out a whisper, handing the note back to John. “But we saw her, John. She was dead.”

John shook his head, “I don’t know what happened. But this note proves the woman we saw wasn’t Kat. I recognize her handwriting. She is not dead, Ryon, but it seems her life is in danger, so no one must know of this note but us. No one.”

“Dear God.” Ryon sighed — questions needed answers, but they would not find them today. “I will pray Blake returns by spring.”

“Yes,” agreed John sadly, “it would break her heart if she returns and he is not here.”

“And we have no way of telling him Katrina is alive.” Ryon closed his eyes, weary, the months of worry taking its toll. “What else will go wrong, John? They love each other, and yet they have had so little happiness together. And what of Randolph?”

John’s shoulders slumped in exhaustion. “I don’t know, Ryon,” he mumbled, tossing the paper into the fire. “I just don’t know.”

 

C
HIN
L
I SIGHED, CONTENTED
as she watched a bird in the sky above, the sun warm and bright. She thought about joining her friend walking along the beach in search of shells. But, feeling wonderfully lazy, she decided to stay where she lay in the soft sand.

Katrina lifted the hem of her colorful cotton dress, like the ones the natives wore on the island, and waded deeper into the blue-green water. She considered a swim to cool off, but decided against it, knowing Li did not like her to swim alone. She tenderly ran her hand over her swollen stomach, feeling the baby kick inside her womb. It would not be long before she would give birth to her child, and soon, she could return to England — and to Blake.

God, she missed him. She wondered if Johnny received her message, and if Blake knew she was alive. How he must have suffered. Sadness touched her and she stared forlornly into the water swirling about her legs. The thought of their secret pond flooded into her melancholy mind, and with it remembrance of all their bitter arguments. Like a pendulum, her mood would swing and memories of loving, tender moments would overwhelm her. She reeled from suppressed desires and longed for his touch. Shaken from the painful longing of her heart, Katrina tried to draw her mind to other things.

She could hear children as they played along an old wooden dock not far from her and she shielded her eyes against the sun to see them. With a smile, she waved at her friends, their cries of greeting echoed back. A sudden, intense spasm ripped across her belly and threw her back, bringing a gasp of surprise from Katrina. Li, ever diligent, heard the noise and quickly scurried off to get Trevor Wilde.

Katrina still marveled at Trevor’s kindness to them. Something had changed when he learned she was pregnant. He brought Katrina and Li to his home on a secluded island right after he had taken them from Captain Walker’s ship, insisting they stay as his guests until the baby’s birth. The perfect host, the months rolled languidly by and a friendship developed. Despite his occupation, Trevor was a good man, kind and generous. He had seen to it her message was carried to Johnny in England. He graciously offered all the comforts of his home to ensure Katrina enjoyed her confinement in the Caribbean.

By the time she experienced a second contraction; Trevor rushed to her and whisked her into his strong arms. “What is it, Katrina? Are you all right?” His face was pale, concern furrowing his handsome brow.

“It is all right. I think he is anxious to be born. It’s going to be a boy, Trevor. I know it.”

 

Chapter Twenty-two

 

K
ATRINA GAZED AT THE
lush gardens below, her thoughts of the months that passed so quickly. It had been close to a year since she left England. All the events taking place cast a veil of sadness over her heart.

A baby’s cry made Katrina smile, dispelling the sadness when she bent down to kiss her son’s head. Tremendous joy touched her as she watched his smiling face. Jason gurgled incoherently to his mother and she lovingly lifted him into her arms.

“Would you like to go out to the garden, Jason?”

Jason’s answer consisted of a happy shriek and a small fist waved about in the air. His baby-fresh smell pleased Katrina, as did the gleeful chirps and squeals he always had for her. It had been three months since she gave birth. She remembered none of the pain she endured to bring her cherished child into the world — it had been forgotten the moment she first held Jason in her arms.

Katrina devoted most of her time to Jason. She passed the months in a blissful daze, unaware of certain things, one of which was her own blossoming as a mother. Her figure was slender and firmly muscled, just as it had been before. But the rosy tint on her cheeks, sparkle in her eyes, and loving smile gracing her face was what people noticed.

Unfortunately, the other thing Katrina remained oblivious to was how her presence affected Trevor Wilde. As each day passed he found it more and more difficult to deny his feelings for her, to remember she was married and she planned to return to England soon. And to complicate matters more, Jason aroused feelings he never knew existed — the baby felt like his own son.

Unbeknownst to Trevor, Katrina counted the days until she could return to her home. She knew it would be hard to leave; Trevor was a good man. She suspected he might have feelings for her, though he had never said as much. But her heart belonged to another and he understood this.

There were times she worried about Blake’s reaction to having a son. But when she looked at Jason’s face, she could not believe any man would fail to love his perfection. Jason squealed his delight as a colorful bird flew by the window and Katrina brushed her lips against the baby’s soft curls. She walked from the cheery nursery and into the adjoining sitting room where Li sat. Katrina paused by her chair and asked, “Would you like to join us for a walk in the garden?”

Laying aside the needlework she worked on, Li smiled and agreed, anxious for some fresh air and sun. “Do you think Mr. Wilde will return from New Orleans soon?”

Nodding, Katrina answered, “Perhaps today, Li. He didn’t plan to be gone long.”

The two women and the child barely reached the bottom of the stairs when Trevor burst through the front door; a delighted grin spread across his tanned face when he spotted the small group descending the stairs.

“Trevor,” cried Katrina happily and quickened her step to greet him.

Overwhelmed by the beauty before him, Trevor could not resist leaning down and kissing her tempting red lips.

The passion of Trevor’s kiss made Katrina embarrassingly aware of his true feelings. The shock of it left her dumbfounded.

Seeing Katrina blush a brilliant red and knowing he caused her confusion and discomfort, Trevor cursed himself for his stupidity, and he, too, was at a loss for words. They silently and awkwardly stared at each other, neither able to move.

But to the man in the background, it played out in a different perspective. Shock flooded through Blake, leaving him standing in the doorway, unable to believe what he saw.

She was alive! His mind screamed it, the reality of it making him numb. A haze of emotions descended upon him in force, but anger sprang forth and seeped past all else when he witnessed the passionate kiss. His gaze fell to the baby Katrina held — the pirate Trevor Wilde’s child. Betrayal and hatred hit him so hard, he felt breathless and shaken, but by the time Trevor and Katrina pulled themselves together, Blake managed to find some of his composure.

Katrina handed Jason to Li, and when she turned back to Trevor, her gaze fell on the man standing in the open doorway. The sunlight filtered into the hall behind him and made it impossible to see his face, but Katrina froze, her face paling and her knees buckled.

Trevor reacted and put his arm about her waist to steady her, fearing she was going to faint dead away. “Katrina, are you all right? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Blake stepped forward and shut the door. With a calm and casual manner, belying the tremendous turmoil inside him, he said, “Actually, I am the one who has seen a ghost, Trevor. After all, you are supposed to be dead, aren’t you, little one?”

Katrina fought to maintain control of her speeding heart and found it difficult to catch her breath. Waves of extreme heat flushed over her, her mouth so dry she could not form words. Nervous anxiety struck her dumb and she could do nothing but stare.

Trevor looked from one to the other in total confusion. He was aware of Katrina’s sudden discomfort, but when he met Blake’s look he was taken aback by the burning hatred he saw. Trevor’s words came out uncertain and broken; posing the question he dreaded asking. “What are you talking about, Blake? You know Katrina?”

“I am talking about a grave marked with Katrina Easton’s name and, until now, I believed to be her final resting place,” Blake said with sneering contempt. “I am talking about a woman dressed in your clothing found murdered — raped and beaten beyond recognition. And, until this moment, I believed it was how you met your violent death. Who was she, Katrina? Who was the poor woman who met such a foul end in your stead?”

Blake’s eyes burned into Katrina’s. The hate and anger in them added to the whirlwind of emotions assaulting her, leaving her unguarded and distraught. “I don’t know her name. I … she was a p-prostitute on the docks … I don’t know any more,” she whispered, still unaware of Blake’s train of thought. What made him think she would know who the woman was? She looked away, sickened, and pushed past Trevor to escape his venom.

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