Surrender The Night (36 page)

Katrina was too occupied searching the crowd to realize the stir she caused as her shawl slipped away from her shoulders. Farm boys, millers, townsmen alike stared as the blazing torches reflected off her burnished hair and tinged her fair skin to rose. The breeze caught her bodice ruffle, making it flutter just enough to entice, but not reveal.

Katrina didn’t see Jack stiffen in the act of bringing a jug to his mouth, or notice as Davie let go of a dairymaid’s hand to peer after her. Carrington whirled from conversing with one of his tenants to follow her progress with hungry eyes.

There he was! “Will,” Katrina called, weaving her way toward him. She didn’t see the richly dressed man veer toward her at the sound of her voice. He followed her as she reached Will and put a hand on his arm.

“I’ve wanted to speak with you for days.” Katrina forced a smile under the sweep of his eyes. She pulled her shawl back over her shoulders and added, “May we talk privately?”

Possessively, he put her hand through the crook of his arm. “Certainly, my dear. I’ve missed you, but I’ve not been deliberately delinquent in my attentions.” He led her out of the crush to a cluster of huge boulders standing just past the curve of the hill. He seated her atop one, his hands lingering at her waist. The many torches and brilliant moon revealed his face.

“Have you been so busy, then?” Katrina didn’t move as his hands slipped about her waist. A snapping twig caught her attention, but Will’s comment distracted her before she looked behind him.

“Dull business that wouldn’t interest you, but I’m done for a time. I would have called, except I knew I’d see you here. I’m so glad you watched for me, but I’d have found you in a much larger crowd than this.” Will’s lips inched forward. Katrina turned her head, and his mouth drifted across her cheek.

Katrina was too intent on carefully framing her words to notice the low growl that issued from behind Will. “Will, when we spoke the other day, you caught me at a sad moment. I’ve since . . . reconsidered. I don’t want to hurt you, but I . . . can’t let you court me when my affections are given to another.”

A short distance away broad shoulders heaved a relieved sigh as Katrina went on. “Please, try to understand. I’d be doing you as much a disservice—nay, more—to encourage you falsely.” She couldn’t bear Will’s stricken features, so she turned her head away and finished quietly, “Forgive me. I literally owe you my life, but my love, it seems, is not mine to give as I would.” She
kissed his cold cheek, scooted down from the rock, and hurried back up the hill, dashing away her incipient tears.

Will stood where she left him, his hands braced on the boulder, his fair head bent.

Katrina almost ran into the wide chest of the man who turned to block her path. Her shawl slipped. “Hello, Kat,” Devon said quietly.

The picture of Will’s face, locked in a rictus of pain, ruined the joy Katrina had expected to feel at sight of him. She nodded coolly. “How gracious of you to associate with the lower classes, my lord.”

That old, bold smile flickered to life as he scanned her trim figure from stem to stern, lingering at her bodice. He cleared his throat and said huskily, “You’re in error. From the look of you I’d say it’s you who are slumming with the rabble, myself included.” He took off his hat to sweep her a deep bow. “Never have you looked more like an angel, my very dear lady. You’ve still got stardust clinging to you.”

“A very fallen one, sir, as you well know,” Katrina said, then bit her lip in regret at the tart comment.

He slipped neatly into the opening she’d left him. “Indeed. It is my fondest wish that you let me catch you once again.” When she tried to push past him, he caught her arm. His voice grew serious. “I cry quarter, Kat. Tonight even such repartee does not satisfy me. I want only to be your escort among these people you’ve taken to your heart, and try to understand both them and you.”

Anger failed her under his earnest intensity. She’d made this dress for him; she’d hurt Will for him; she’d endangered her own safety for love of him. She’d be foolish to spoil this moment. Past recriminations would not ruin all her hopes for the future. She took his proffered arm.

“Thank you, Devon,” she said gravely. “I shall be delighted.” They strolled to the top of the hill to watch the lighting of the bonfire, oblivious to the resentful eyes that followed them.

One of the tar barrels ignited. Flames trickled like liquid gold over the pile of stumps and sticks, catching another strategically placed barrel, then another. The bonfire roared into life. As more and more wood caught, the flames climbed toward heaven.

The Cornish broke into a cheer and began to dance wildly about the fire. Devon pulled Katrina away from the stomping feet and stared as several young men, whooping in glee, leaped through the lowest edge of the bonfire.

“Are they mad?” he asked Katrina. Several young women followed suit.

“Perhaps. On the joy of midsummer. You’re watching an ancient tradition, Devon. Your own ancestors no doubt practiced it. They believe that leaping through the flames helps protect them against evil. It purifies them.” She slanted him a sidelong look. “I’ll wait a day or two if you want to follow suit.”

He lifted her chin and said softly, ‘ ‘Wipe that smirk off your face, my girl, or I shall kiss it away.” When her smile faded, he added, “If you still fear for my soul, Katrina, there’s a more effective way for you to save me.”

She was suspicious of the gleam in his eye, but she asked anyway, “How so?”

He came closer still until his breath stirred the hair at her temples. “Why, by the love of a good woman. Won’t you redeem me, Katrina mina?’ ’

The curious stares, the roaring fire receded. Katrina’s world was filled with gold-brown eyes. Brandy seemed to flow through her veins, intoxicating her. She melted against him, but then a dancing couple jostled her. With a drowning gasp she backed away from Devon.

“Must throw this in the fire,” she muttered. She stumbled around the dancing couples to fetch her discarded hoop and throw it into the flames. She watched the flowers cringe, crumple, then blacken. Quaint custom or not, she closed her eyes and said a brief prayer. She knew God heard, and if a few heathen spirits were listening as well, she’d not eschew their help.

Strong hands caught her waist. “Come, dance with me, earthly angel.”

Devon held her close and began to move to the rhythm of the fifes, drums, and flutes playing a slow tune. Katrina gave up all thoughts of propriety and rested her cheek against his broad chest. When her shawl slipped, he lifted it to cover her lovely shoulders from staring eyes.

The last, haunting remnants of the past dissolved under the heat of the flames. The whispers that warned of future retribution were muffled by the beating of the heart Katrina lay against, and the one that answered. For once she’d heed only the bliss of the present. If, for a fleeting moment, she remembered what had happened the last time she lived the moment, she pushed the thought away.

“Don’t you want to know why I haven’t been to see you?” he asked, his voice muffled against the top of her head. He breathed deeply of her rosewater-scented hair.

“I suspect I know why,” she answered. She lifted her head and fingered the top button of his waistcoat.

He caught her hand as she traced the path of buttons to his waist. “Be still, wench, lest I embarrass us both. Tell me why, then.”

“ ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder.’ ”

He chuckled huskily and pushed her head back against his shoulder. “You do know me. But you can hardly complain. I only obeyed your own request to leave you be.” When she stayed silent under the provoking remark, he demanded, “Well, don’t keep me in suspense! Did it work?”

She peeped up at him with languid eyes and smiled when she felt his heart—and something else—surge against her. “Perhaps. Maybe I can tell you. Later.” He stumbled, his hands growing slack about her.

She laughed joyously at his shocked expression and caught his hand to drag him away from the dancers. “Come, visit with John. I know he wants to thank you for the food.”

She felt his eager eyes as they walked, but this time she made no effort to shield the fluttering ruffle. He could hardly mistake her signals, but she was past shame. This bold seducer of women should sample his own tormenting brand of flirtation.

As they wended their way through the families picnicking on blankets, Katrina stopped here and there to greet people. In each case she introduced Devon; in each case they responded curtly.

Devon’s smile grew fixed as a mother pulled her daughter out of his path. “Do they think I’ll mow her down?” he muttered to Katrina.

In answer she tugged harder on his hand. John was respected in the community. Mayhap when the others saw how cordially the Tonkins treated him, they’d come around.

Katrina waved when she spied John’s litter. Rachel paused in cutting a slice of ham for Robert to nod in welcome. Robert, who sat next to his mother, squirmed with his usual excitement.

After greeting John, Katrina sat next to him on the quilt and drew Devon down beside her. She kissed the top of Robert’s head. “And has the fair been to the master’s liking?”

Robert pouted. “Ais, it’s been fun, but Ma won’t let me leap through the flames.”

“Now, Robbie, ’ee knows ’ee can’t do et alone, and Jimmy has gone off weth those . . . friends of hes.” Rachel slammed the slice of ham down on a thick chunk of bread and handed it to her son. She looked inquiringly at Katrina. Katrina nodded, so Rachel made two more sandwiches.

“Thank ’ee for the ham, and the other thengs,” John said gruffly to Devon.

Devon accepted the sandwich Rachel thrust at him. ‘ ‘It was my pleasure. If I can help again in any way, please just let me know.”

“We’ll manage well enough, weth the lassie’s help.” John took a draw on his pipe and seemed not to hear Katrina’s hissed, “Shhh!”

Devon paused in taking a big bite and lowered the sandwich. “What does he mean, Katrina? Have you found employ
ment?”

“Er . . . yes.” She tried to avert more questions by setting aside her own barely touched food and drawing Robbie into her lap. “Mayhap I can swing you through the flames, Robbie.”

“You’re not strong enough, lass,” Rachel said.

Devon let the diversion work, for now. As he nibbled he looked thoughtfully at the bonfire. It had begun to bum down, and now many fathers were swinging their offspring over the more feeble flames. “I can take him, if you like, Mr. Tonkin.”

“Call me John, my lord. ’Tes up to the lad.”

“Please, my given name is Devon.” Devon rose and held out his hand to Robbie.

Robbie looked from Devon’s hand, to the bonfire, back to Devon. Katrina could feel his tension. Would the dislike of Devon Jimmy had taught him win against his longing to experience one of the most anticipated rites of a Cornish childhood? She wasn’t surprised when he virtually leaped off her lap.

Shyly he took Devon’s hand. Devon smiled down at him; Robbie smiled back.

As they walked toward the fire Katrina reflected that even small boys were not proof against Devon’s charm. When they reached the fire, she watched as Devon securely caught Robbie’s hands and swung him high above the flames. Robbie laughed in glee as Devon stepped back and began to whirl him in a circle. One second Robbie’s face was alight, the next dark as he swung away from the fire. Devon set him down, but Robbie caught his arm and turned a pleading face up to him. Devon went down on his haunches to talk to him, catching Robbie’s shoulders in his strong hands.

“He’ll maake a good father one daay,” Rachel .said, enunciating Katrina’s secret thought. When Katrina closed her eyes in pain, Rachel clapped her hand over her mouth.

John caught Katrina’s hand and pulled her closer to him. “ ’Ee love hem, do ’ee not?”

Unable to speak through the lump in her throat, Katrina nodded.

“Then go to hem, lass. Taake what happiness ’ee can.” John looked toward Devon thoughtfully. “ ’Ee maay be surprised at what response ’ee gets.”

Katrina threw her arms about John and hugged him, hard. “You’re like my father, come to life again, John. I can almost be happy at the sorry turn of events that led me to you.”

John patted her back. “ ’Ee’ve had enough grief, lass. Go on now. Follow your heart.”

When Devon came back, Robbie skipping happily beside him, he didn’t notice that those he passed seemed more polite than before, but Katrina did. His hair mussed, grass clinging to his satin coat, he seemed less intimidating, reminding the others that he was a man first, a peer second, He’d not scorned their customs, either, which Katrina knew had not gone unnoticed.

She smiled at him brilliantly when he sat down beside her. The flames seemed caught in his eyes as he smiled back. His gaze dropped to her bodice. She took a deep, shaky breath, making her ruffle bounce. He swallowed, staring at her cleavage, but the moment was spoiled when a cultured drawl interrupted them.

“She is pretty as a picture, old chap, but you’ve had her long enough.” Carrington caught Katrina’s arm and pulled her to her feet. “Come dance with me.’’

Katrina smelled the liquor on his breath. She turned her head, but tried to keep her reply polite. “I’m tired, but thank you for asking.”

“Let her go,” Devon ground out through his teeth, standing slowly.