Marie Higgins

by Amazon Sunset

  “Are ye hungry, child?” the housekeeper asked.

  “Not really.” Katrina placed her hand on her stomach. “I couldn’t possible eat at a time like this, not until I know Felix will be all right.”

  “Ye must eat. Gain strength. I have fruits and nuts sent up.”

  Apparently, Katrina’s words didn’t mean much at her father’s house. “Fine.”

  “I have tub and water brought up for bath.” The other woman bustled to the nearest armoire and opened up the doors. Many gowns hung in the space, filling it up.

  Katrina gasped and walked to get a better look. Such lovely colors—like a rainbow after a rainstorm. Satins and silks, and lace galore.

  “Ye dress in one of deese, yes?”

  Apparently, her father didn’t want to meet her unless she looked like a lady. “Yes, I suppose I could wear one of those gowns.”

  “Good.” She waddled to the door. “I have de water brought up now.”

  Once the woman left, Katrina took careful steps to the door and opened it to peek down the hallway. She had no clue where the men took Felix, so she must do as the older woman asked. What else could she do besides worry?

  Blowing out a frustrated breath between her lips, she wandered back inside the room, walking slowly around each piece of furniture. She ran her finger across the material of the sofa, careful not to get it dirty, since she was certain she was filthy. In the corner of the room stood a mirror. She hesitated in going over to look at herself. Since they left the little village of Manaus, she hadn’t looked in a mirror. Now she didn’t dare.

  Curiosity moved her closer. Good heavens! Was that her? She looked horrid—bad enough to scare small children. Dirt was smudged all over her face except where tears had streaked it, making her almost unrecognizable. The dark hair color coating her strands was definitely not the shade she’d started out having when she first went on this journey. Even the texture had changed. No longer was it silky smooth, but instead it was ratted. She groaned and pushed her fingers through her hair—as much as she could, anyway.

  Her gaze wandered down her neck to her shirt. Hadn’t it been beige when she first put it on? Now it was the color of a mud puddle after a heavy rain. And her trousers and boots… Just filthy!

  The doorknob rattled mere seconds before the door was opened and the housekeeper brought in a tray of food, as promised. Behind her a man carried a tub and three other men carried buckets of water—one in each hand. Once the tray of food was on the table, the woman moved to another cupboard and pulled out a bar of soap and two towels.

  “Come, come. Time for bath.” She gestured with her head.

  Katrina waited until the men poured the water in the tub and left before she started undressing. She removed her boots first, enjoying the feeling of her toes being unrestricted.

  She searched to find the other woman and found her standing by the armoire. “You can leave now. I can bathe myself, thank you.”

  The woman nodded and pointed to the gowns. “Wear pretty dress when ye meet yer father.”

  Katrina held her breath, trying not to voice her annoyance in front of the other woman. “All right.”

  The housekeeper then moved to the door. Before she left, she looked over her shoulder at Katrina. “Name is Mrs. Cooney.”

  Katrina smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

  The woman turned and left the room.

  It didn’t take Katrina long before she had taken off all her clothes and stepped into the warm tub. As she sank into the water, letting it splash over her, she sighed and closed her eyes. How she had missed this. It seemed like ages since she’d felt such refreshing, calming water run over her. Steam rose from the liquid, relaxing her even more. Weariness consumed her, and she realized if she stayed in here much longer, she’d fall asleep.

  Shaking the sleep out of her head, she quickly washed her hair and then her body. Little by little she started feeling like herself again instead of the dirty ragamuffin she’d been earlier. Her body felt smoother, and she could actually comb her fingers through her hair without difficulty.

  She climbed out of the tub and toweled herself dry. Immediately, her thoughts turned back to Felix. She prayed he was all right. If he had taken a turn for the worse, someone had better inform her, or she’d tear through this house looking for him. Being by his side to nurse him back to health would not only do her good, but him as well. He needed to be able to talk to her coherently. She wanted to tell him things as well. There was so much in her heart she wanted to say to him, things that should have been said yesterday if her pride had allowed it.

  As she searched through the armoires, she discovered plenty of clothes, not only undergarments, but gowns and shoes and bonnets. It was remarkable when she noticed they were all her size. How had her father known? They’d never met. Had he been spying on her all of these years?

  Chills crawled up her spine but she shrugged it off. All these questions would be answered as soon as she met Mr. Henry Landon.

  She dressed in a pale pink dress with a white lace over-skirt. The full shoulders puffed out and the short sleeves narrowed to just above her elbows. Although it was a lovely gown, she especially liked it because of the square neck trimmed in white ribbon. In this humidity, the more air her body could get, the better she’d feel.

  Once dressed, she sat at the vanity and picked up the brush. This afternoon’s heat had mostly dried her hair, but thankfully, it was easy to stroke through her thick locks. Whatever that soap was made of also gave her a rose fragrance. Truly, she’d never felt so lavish before.

  On the vanity, there were many small, jeweled hair combs and silky ribbons. She didn’t feel like doing anything special with her hair, so she braided it down the back, tying the end with a pink ribbon.

  A knock came upon the door before it opened. Mrs. Cooney peeked her head inside. “Ready to see yer father?”

  Katrina stood and squared her shoulders. “Not yet. I want to know about Mr. Knightly. Is he well? Was the doctor able to help him?”

  The housekeeper smiled wide. “Yes, Miss. Doctor gave him an antidote. Soon poison will be outta body, I’m sure.”

  “You’re sure…but you don’t know?”

  The kind eyes of the woman softened. “I have seen many men recover after the antidote was given.” She nodded. “Mr. Knightly will recover. He is a fighter.”

  Happiness filled Katrina’s chest and tears stung her eyes. She rushed to the older woman and clasped her hands. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes. He will be up and moving around in a few days.”

  “Oh, thank the Lord.” Sighing, Katrina placed her hand to her chest. “Can I see him now?”

  “No. He’s resting.”

  Nodding, Katrina dried her eyes. “Then I shall see him after I visit my father.”

  “Very good.” The older woman motioned her hand. “Follow me. I take ye to de master.”

  This time when Katrina thought about seeing him, her nerves didn’t shake through her whole body as they’d done before. Of course knowing that Felix was all right comforted her greatly. She still wasn’t certain how she would behave in front of Henry Landon, but she must act like a proper woman. She must make her mother proud, and Felix. He would want her to be gracious. So for Felix, she would be…to a point, of course.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “In here, Miss.”

  Mrs. Cooney led Katrina into another section of the house. Curtains were drawn over the windows, and a musty scent hung in the air. It smelled like death. There was another scent in the room as well—something sweet—reminding her of the medicinal herbs Felix had taught her about.

  Only a few lamps were lit, casting shadows everywhere. On the far side of the large room sat a thin man in a heavily cushioned gray chair. Pillows propped up his arms and a blanket lay over his legs. The white hair on his head was scarcely thin, making his pale face appear more gaunt. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew they were directed on her. Chills climbed up h
er back, but she tried to keep the disgust from showing on her face.

  Silence grew through the room after the housekeeper left and closed the door. Katrina tried to keep her breathing calm. She reminded herself that he could not hurt her. Of course, if she went with her first instinct to yell at him and throw accusations his way, then she might injure him in his delicate state.

  She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “So, you are my father.”

  “Yes.” His voice was very rasp. “Come closer so I can see you better. I fear my eyesight isn’t as it used to be.”

  Calmly, she walked to him, reminding herself that she could do this…she could carry on a decent conversation with him without spouting out hateful words. At least for now.

  When she reached his side and stopped, he moved his shaky hand to turn up the lamplight on the small table next to his chair. A narrow, ghastly face met hers. His sunken eyes appeared as if his skull was trying to swallow them. It was no wonder he kept himself hidden from the rest of the house. He was a living nightmare, to be sure.

  “You are a very lovely young lady,” he said. “You remind me of my sister when she was your age.”

  “Then I wish I would have known her.”

  He motioned to the empty cushioned chair beside him. “Would you like to sit? I’m certain you have many questions for me.”

  “Several, in fact.” She sat on the edge of the chair and folded her hands in her lap. It wasn’t until now she realized her body quivered in nervousness. Once more, she reminded herself that she was in control here—not him! There was nothing to be afraid of. If she had made it through the jungle in one piece, then she could certainly get through this conversation.

  “Although,” she continued, “I probably had more questions for you while I was growing up. I fear I have hardened my heart against you now that I’m an adult.”

  His frown deepened as he nodded. “That is understandable, but will you allow me to tell you why I left you?”

  She shrugged. “I honestly don’t think it will matter one way or another.”

  “Please, allow me this, nonetheless.”

  “I suppose it will pass the time.” She nodded. “Go ahead.”

  His shaky hand reached to the small table to lift his teacup. It shook as he brought it to his mouth and sipped. Once again, she detected that sweet scent, reminding her of an herb. She couldn’t quite put her memory on which one, though.

  “I met your mother in Boston. I was a young man with dreams of traveling to every foreign country I could. Your mother was the personal maid to my aunt. Lucy was very lovely, and she knew how to charm. By the time my visit ended with my aunt, I was smitten with Lucy, so I stayed around a bit longer than I had planned.” He cleared his throat. “Before I decided to leave again, Lucy informed me that she was with child. My aunt insisted that I do right by Lucy and marry her, which I did.”

  Katrina adjusted in her seat and smoothed out the wrinkles around her knees. She’d heard this all this before from her mother while growing up, but she let him continue.

  “Not long after we were married,” he resumed, “I met a few men who lived in the area. I was hoping someone would help me find employment. Instead, what I discovered was heartbreaking and disturbed me greatly. Apparently, I was not Lucy’s first…um, man to love her.”

  Katrina arched an eyebrow. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? “If you’re trying to shock me by telling me that my mother has made quite a few men fall in love with her—”

  “No, that’s not what I’m telling you, Katrina. To be blunt, your mother was not a virgin. She’d lied to me. In fact, it was worse than that. She sold her favors to men. That was how she earned extra money.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “My mother wouldn’t need extra money if she was your aunt’s maid.”

  “Katrina, your mother is the kind of woman who always needs more money. My aunt paid Lucy well, but that wasn’t enough for her. She always wanted more, which was why she sought out men for one reason only.”

  Katrina’s stomach twisted and the urge to deny his accusations slammed in her head, but for some reason it wouldn’t come forth on her tongue. Imagines of years gone by flashed through her head. She’d been young and hadn’t gone to sleep as her mother had instructed her to do. Katrina had noticed her mother go to the door and let a strange man into the house. Within minutes, she took his hand and led them to the back room. Once odd noises began to each through the quiet house, Katrina had become frightened and hurried to bed, throwing the blanket up over her head.

  Another memory came forth from the dark recesses of her mind. She was older, and had secretly watched her mother leave the house when she thought Katrina was asleep. A man waited outside for her mother, and grabbed her in an improper embrace, kissing her like he’d known her for years.

  Suddenly, more and more memories flashed through Katrina’s mind. She wanted to squeeze her eyes closed and cover her ears. She wanted to run back to her bedroom, curl up on her bed, and cry her eyes out. Indeed, her mother had been a strumpet. Katrina understood her mother had done these things to put food on the table, but this kind of disgraceful behavior would definitely keep her from marrying a respectable man. She wasn’t worthy of a respectable man with such deceit in her past.

  A small pain pounded in her head and she rubbed her temple. Tears stung her eyes no matter how hard she tried to keep them away.

  “Is that why you left her?” Katrina’s voice squeaked so she quickly cleared her throat.

  “Yes.” He took a deep, slow breath. “I wasn’t even certain that she carried my baby.”

  Katrina nodded. “That explains why you never sent her money.”

  “After a few years had passed, I was burdened with guilt. I wanted to know if you were my child or not. By this time in my life, I was making money in the trading business and in hopes of purchasing a plantation. I hired an investigator to find you and your mother. He reported Lucy worked in a tavern with her young daughter.”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes, from as far back as I can remember, I helped the owners of the tavern in the kitchen. It wasn’t until I was older that they allowed me to work outside the kitchen.” More memories flashed through her head. Her childhood wasn’t so terrible because the wife of the tavern owner had treated Katrina like her own daughter. Yet when she started working in the tavern, the patrons looked upon her as used goods. Now she knew why. They thought she’d be like her mother.

  “I was kept informed on your progress as you got older,” he continued. “I still wasn’t certain that you were my daughter, though. One day I was in Boston on business, and decided to drop by the tavern and see you for myself. I wore a disguise because I knew Lucy would recognize me if I didn’t. When I saw you, I couldn’t believe my eyes. You resembled my sister so much, I felt as if I was a young man again teasing my sister like I used to do. That’s when I knew I was indeed, your father.”

  “How many years ago was that?”

  “Five.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Really? Why didn’t you make contact with me, then?”

  He drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Actually, I did. I sent a letter to your mother. When she responded, she told me to leave well enough alone—that the two of you were getting along just fine.” He shook his head. “I knew differently, of course.”

  Katrina released a gasp. “Are you kidding me? Why would she turn you away? She was desperate for money.”

  “Your mother would never allow me to talk to you. She would not allow me to even introduce myself.”

  “Why do you think she acted in such a way?” Deep down, she figured she already knew the answer, but it still made her stomach twist in disgust.

  “Because I knew things about Lucy that she didn’t want you to know.”

  Exactly! Little by little, her heart began to break. Her mother knew five years ago that Henry Landon would send them money? Yet, she turned it away?

  Tears burned in Katrina’s e
yes, so she quickly tried to blink them away. She didn’t need to show emotion at a time like this. She didn’t want her father to think he had won. “Tell me, Henry, how were you able to get a letter to us this time?”

  His wrinkled mouth turned up into a smile. “I finally decided to address the letter to you, and not your mother.”

  She fisted her hands in her lap. “Nothing makes sense. When I received that letter and showed it to my mother, she told me it was high time you contacted me. She convinced me that we needed to take your money and travel to Macapá to collect more—funds that were mine because I was your daughter.” She heaved a deep breath. “If my mother didn’t want me meeting you because you might have information about her, why did she decide we needed to do as your letter suggested?”

  “I can only assume it was because she didn’t want you to find out that I had tried to contact you before. She wanted to continue to make me look like the terrible parent who neglected their only child.”

  Another gasp sprang from her throat and she rose to her feet. “But you were! You were the one who didn’t stay married to her just because you thought I could have been someone else’s child. You were the one who didn’t try harder to support your child who starved many nights because my mother was too poor to buy us food. Forgive me, but in my mind, that does in fact make you the neglectful parent.”

  Silence stretched in the room for a few awkward moments before he hung his head. She studied him as close as she could through the shadows, and noticed his throat jump.

  “Yes, you are right,” he said low. “I have made many mistakes in my life, and I have regretted every one of them.” Slowly, his gave lifted to hers. “And that is why I wish to make amends. I wish to show you that I do care about you. And I wish to show you that although you believe your mother to be the saint in this situation, she is indeed just opposite.”

  “Why?” Katrina fisted her hands by her side. “Because she did all she could to make sure there was food on the table and a roof over her daughter’s head, even if it meant doing immoral things?”