Surrender The Night (35 page)

“He’s better then?”

Rachel flushed. “Ais, ’tes selfesh I’ve been, not to let you see hem more.”

Katrina patted Rachel’s shoulder. “That’s all right. I know you only wanted him to rest. I’m just relieved to hear he’s on the mend.” She hurried into John’s room.

His once brown face looked pale, but his broad, welcoming smile sparkled as much as ever. He patted the quilt beside him. “Set, lassie. How have ’ee been?”

“I’m well, John,” Katrina answered huskily, touched by his concern. Most men would have thought only of themselves in the circumstances. She sat beside him and took his outstretched hand.

“I know thes has been hard on ’ee. My messus was no help as feared for me as she were. Yet ’ee found food, and plenty of et, from what Rachel has been brengen’ me. Where, lassie?”

Katrina had been ready with a vague excuse, but under those direct brown eyes she couldn’t lie. “His lordship.”

John looked stunned. “Carrington?”

“No, no, Devon Cavanaugh.”

“Ahhh.” John drew out the single syllable.

Katrina blushed. “I was in no position to refuse. I gave him nothing in return save my thanks, I assure you.”

“Nothing, my girl?” John teased.

Katrina remembered that passionate kiss and went even rosier. “I’ve already told him we’ll not accept more. And I . . . think I’ve found employment, so we’ll not need to.”

“Yes? What ‘employment’?” John’s eyes narrowed when Katrina shifted her feet.

“I’d rather not say, John.” Feeling guilty, Katrina pulled her hand out of his slack grip.

John leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Not ’ee also, lass. Two smugglers en the famely es two too many. Esn’t there another waay?” He opened his eyes and glared at her.

Katrina didn’t know how to banish the frustration she saw there. She understood he felt helpless, adrift now he could no longer be the family’s primary support. She bowed her head, searching for comforting words.

Before she found them, he said grimly, “I’d rather ’ee went to Cavanaugh. At least he’d not endaanger ’ee.”

Her head reared up, and for the first time anger kindled in her eyes. “I never thought to hear you say that, John. You know why I can’t be indebted to Devon.” She cleared her throat and said more softly, “You just concentrate on getting better. When you’re well again I’ll stop. I promise.”

John’s grunt proved what he thought of that, but he obliged her by changing the subject. They discussed the various family members, but he seemed concerned most about Ellie. “Has she seen that Englesh rascal?”

In truth Katrina had been too worried to heed Ellie’s activities, but Billy had visited twice since John had been hurt. “A couple of times.”

“Send Ellie to me,” John said. When Katrina reached the door, he added, “And please, lass, be careful. Though many of them be' my friends, the free traaders can be a ruthless lot, ’specially them who deals weth the placen’ of the goods.”

“I’ll be careful, John,” Katrina said without turning her head. As she went in search of Ellie she decided it was a good thing John didn’t know she planned to discover as much about the smugglers’ activities as she could. Men bold enough to defy the law would be the ones who threatened the gentry. The risk to her own safety was less important than feeding the family and protecting Devon.

The next few days were peaceful. Katrina wasn’t bothered by male visitors. Even Will was absent, aside from one harried examination of John’s healing leg and ribs. Katrina started at every knock on the door, but the visitor she hoped for didn’t appear. She was glad, she told herself, yet the fear grew that Devon had finally taken her at her word. If that wasn’t just like him—after she’d finally decided to throw her scruples to the wind, he left her dangling in it. With feminine perverseness Katrina decided she’d soon change his mind.

Her frown softened into a smile as she caressed the billowing skirts in her lap. He’d take notice right royally if this dress turned out as she hoped. She turned to Ellie to gauge her progress. By making the s
kirts less full than fashion demanded, they’d saved enough silk to stitch Ellie a gown, too. Ellie had the skirt finished and was tacking on the bodice insert. Katrina nodded in satisfaction. If they were diligent, they should each have a new dress for the summer festival, which was one of the county’s most anticipated events.

“Do you attend the fair with anyone, Ellie?” Katrina asked in apparent idleness. Inwardly she tensed as she awaited the answer. The day John summoned Ellie, Katrina had heard their raised voices.

Ellie sighed. “Billy has invited me, but Da doesn’t want me to go with him. What do you think I should do, Katrina?” Having her suspicions verified didn’t please Katrina. Here was just one more problem she’d brought into this family, indirectly or not. Katrina shared John’s worries about Billy’s intentions, but how could she warn Ellie against outsiders when she herself planned to consort with one?

“I can’t make the choice for you, Ellie. I understand how you feel, but only you can decide which is more important to you: your father’s peace of mind or Billy’s company.” Katrina nipped off her thread and smiled sympathetically into Ellie’s anxious eyes.

As she measured another length of lace Katrina thought wryly that this year’s fair should be more eventful than those, in the past. ...

The cottage’s grim atmosphere lightened when that late June day finally arrived. Even John became eager for the celebra
tions. His loyal men had presented him with a sturdy litter, and four of them would come at dusk to carry him to the hill where the festival would begin. Rachel scurried hither and yon, preparing her finest pasties and using some of the precious sugar Devon had given them to make tiny cream-and-currant cakes. Ellie and Katrina worked frantically to finish their gowns so they could help Rachel with preparations.

Robert jabbered from dawn to dusk. “Can I carry a torch this time, Jimmy, please?” The affirmative reply didn’t satisfy him long. “Will you wrest
le this year? I can’t wait until I can.” When Jimmy escaped to help carry furze for the bonfire, Robert badgered Ellie and Katrina until they hurried into the loft to try on their finery.

Hopping with excitement, Robert turned to his harried mother. “Can I jump through the fire this year, Ma? Please?”

“We’ll see, Robbie. Maaybe Jimmy well help ’ee.”

When he tugged on her skirts with another question, Rachel slammed her fingers down on the dough she was kneading. “Land’s End, son, go talk to Da.”

Robbie scampered away, leaving her in peace. She’d just finished the cakes and put them in her Dutch oven over the hearth when she heard a rustling. She turned. She brought one floury hand to her mouth to cover a gasp.

Ellie came first into the kitchen, biting her lip nervously. “What does ’ee thenk, Ma?” She turned slowly before her mother.

The gown she’d fashioned was a sleek fall of silk that emphasized her willowy figure. The tight waist was low and pointed, emphasized by a pleated inset of cream linen. The same pleated linen made a narrow band about the hem and trimmed the elbow-length sleeves. A fichu of the same linen framed Ellie’s pretty shoulders. The linen looked expensive because it was; it had been Rachel’s best tablecloth until she pressed it upon a reluctant Ellie. They’d not had enough lace for both gowns.

Katrina glided down the stairs next. Rachel blinked in astonishment. She’d always known Katrina was lovely, but properly gowned, Katrina seemed too exquisite to be real. Katrina had embellished her best petticoat with silver- embroidered stars and lace, then turned the silk skirts back away from it in scalloped tiers. Stars decorated the peak of each scallop and made a decorative band about her elbows above the fall of exquisite lace. The deep, square bodice was trimmed with an upstanding ruffle that moved with Katrina’s breaths. Rachel well knew what effect that ruffle would have on every male present. She suspected Katrina knew also. What was the girl up to?

“I’ve ne’er seen two prettier ladies.” Rachel finally sighed. “But surely ’ee won’t wear such finery tonight to the bonfire.”

“I can’t wait, Ma. I’ll not be leaping the fire this time.”

“Nor I,” Katrina added.

“ ’Tes lovely ’ee both are, as ’ee both know. But ’ee’d best sneak out of the house wethout seein’ John. He’ll not let ’ee out ef he sees’ee.”

Katrina winked at Ellie. “’Tes yourself ’ee should be looken’ to, Rachel Tonkin,” she teased. “Go and see what lies on my bed.”

“In a moment.” Rachel looked only mildly interested as she checked her cakes. Then, after washing her hands, she pre
ceded the girls up to the loft.

Her eyes widened as the setting sun lingered on the soft white dimity. She picked up the dress, held it to herself, then scurried over to the tiny mirror. Katrina and Ellie leaned against one another, watching. When tears came to Rachel’s eyes, they each blinked rapidly.

“It wasn’t fair that you couldn’t get a new gown as well,” Katrina said simply. “So we refashioned your wedding gown. Do you like it?”

Rachel nodded and smoothed out the dress with trembling fingers. Katrina had patched together the last pieces of silk, then smocked them to hide the seams. She used the trim to make a wide ribbon for the waist and narrower bands at high, ruffled neck and wrist-length sleeves. Using material they’d scrounged from the too long hem, they’d let out the waist to accommodate Rachel’s more matronly figure, then attached the ribbon to cover the mending.

When she could speak again, Rachel said huskily, “But I was saaven’ thes for Ellie’s wedden’.”

‘ ‘Who knows when that will be?’ ’ Ellie asked, hugging her mother. “You’ve sacrificed enough for your bairns, Ma. You needed a dress, too.”

“Thank ’ee, daughter.” Rachel kissed her daughter’s cheek, then beckoned Katrina and pulled her into her other arm. ‘ ‘And thank ’ee—daughter. Ef not of blood, surely of heart.”

Katrina swallowed and buried her head in Rachel’s yeast- scented shoulder. She would not cry, she told herself. Her own mother had died when she was a babe. Was this how it felt to know a mother’s steadfast love? What luxury. In truth Rachel had been as much a mother to her as any daughter could have wished for. Katrina pushed away the thought that she’d never know this joyous give-and-take with her own children.

She lifted her head and smiled tremulously at the two dear faces. “What I’ve given has been but a mite of the measure I’ve received. Now, before we all turn to watering pots, we’ve preparations to make!” Katrina whirled and led the way downstairs.

When they were finally ready for departure, Katrina and Ellie held their shawls close to keep from upsetting John. However, his eyes seemed glued to his wife, who blushed like the bride he was obviously recalling. As his men carried him she walked next to him, holding his hand.

Katrina and Ellie each held hoops of flowers interwoven with herbs. Jimmy carried a blazing torch, lighting their way to the highest tor in the district, where the bonfire had been set up. Robert held a smaller torch, rotating it above his head, imitating his brother. The arcing motion lent a mysterious, flickering quality to the faces that were turned eagerly toward the tor.

Traditions like this had sustained generations of Cornish. It was hardly any wonder, Katrina decided, that the people of
Cornwall so fiercely held to their independence. It was bred into them from the cradle with rituals such as these.

“I wonder if our ancestors looked the same as they lifted their torches at midsummer to defy the increasing night,” Katrina murmured to Ellie.

“And if they made hoops like these, and threw them on the fire to ward off evil spirits—or to invoke good ones,” Ellie added, her eyes searching the thickening crowd.

“Ye’ve no need of witchcraft, Ellie,” a deep voice said from behind her. Ellie froze. “For the sight of ye in that dress is magic enough.”

Slowly Ellie turned to meet Billy’s eyes. He bowed and kissed her hand.

Katrina smiled to herself. She should have known Billy wouldn’t leave Ellie a choice. John turned his head. He frowned, but when his daughter’s pleading face turned in his direction, he sighed. He waved her away. Her eyes reflecting the torches, Ellie took Billy’s arm and disappeared into the crowd.

John and Rachel exchanged a smile. Rachel bent to kiss her husband’s cheek, but he turned his head and took her mouth instead. Discreetly, Katrina looked away.

Only years of shared toil and plenty imbued a couple with that wordless understanding of one another. If she became Devon’s . . . bedmate, then she would never know that comfort. She didn’t delude herself that she could hold his affections indefinitely. He’d grow weary of Cornwall and leave her. Would she be enriched or impoverished when that day came? She couldn’t answer that question. Yearningly, she searched the crowd for that one face, trying to quiet the forebodings chanting again in the back of her mind.

When she couldn’t spy Devon, Katrina told herself she was glad. She needed to speak to Will first, anyway. He’d made no effort to court her as he’d vowed to, so she hoped he’d not be upset at her decision. Honor required that she release herself from obligation to one suitor before encouraging another. She would have told him before now, but had lacked the opportunity. She wondered yet again what had kept him so busy this past fortnight.