By the following morning, Isabel’s fever was raging, and she was shaking with chills so badly that her teeth chattered. Completely delirious and incoherent as she was, there was no way Reed could find out what sort of trouble she was in. The ship’s doctor assured them that her fever was a result of her run-down condition. It appeared she had survived for some time on barely enough food to keep body and soul together. With proper food and care, he told them, Isabel would survive, as long as they managed to get her fever down soon.
In view of the doctor’s diagnosis, Reed relented and allowed Kathleen to help care for Isabel. With Della’s help, she stripped the dirty, vermin-ridden rags from her friend’s thin frame. Together they bathed the filth from her body, and even managed to shampoo her hair. The tepid water helped to cool her and keep the fever from rising further.
By mid-morning Reed had noticed three men hanging about the docks who didn’t look like the usual sailor or dock worker. Something about them nagged at him, but he could not put his finger on what was different about them. They were dressed no differently from any of the other workers and they seemed busy enough . . .
Reed watched them for a while. As he watched one of them lift a heavy crate, something suddenly clicked in his brain. The man had bent from the waist, instead of stooping and letting his legs take the weight, something every sailor or laborer learned early on. It could be the men were merely new on the job, but Reed doubted it. Several times in a few minutes, he saw them dart quick, surreptitious looks about them, often directing their attention toward the Kat-Ann.
Reed searched out his quartermaster and quietly pointed out the men in question. Finley confirmed his suspicions. He, too, had noticed the trio, adding that they’d first appeared yesterday afternoon, to his knowledge. Also, while on watch last evening, he’d seen a couple of men‚ either these or others, skulking about in the shadows of the nearest buildings.
Reed could only hazard a guess, but he bet that Isabel was the reason. The men could be looking for someone to rob, or planning to stow away, but he doubted it. He and Kathleen had openly visited Isabel’s parents the previous morning, and after the old woman’s warnings in the carriage, the coincidence was too obvious.
“Did anyone see our young stowaway come aboard last night?” Reed asked.
“I can’t say for positive, but if you mean those three spies, I think not,” Finley replied. “None of us saw him come aboard. If I hadn’t gone to the galley for a cup of coffee before starting my watch, we may not have discovered the scamp until we’d sailed. I caught him stealing food.”
Reed nodded. “Then whatever occurred happened belowdeck, with our observers none the wiser,” he concluded.
Finley concurred.
“Those three bear watching,” Reed commented, his eyes squinting in thought. “Go about the ship’s business, but keep an eye on them, and alert me to anything out of order. Tell the crew not to discuss anything at all, no matter how trivial, with anyone they don’t know, and I particularly want them to keep quiet about our starving stowaway.”
Finley quirked a questioning brow at Reed.
In answer, Reed said, “I can’t explain now, but you are to consider that a direct order from your captain. The consequences will be dire, indeed, to the man who disobeys it.”
Finley did not attempt to question Reed further. “Aye, Captain. I’ll pass the word along. Anything else?”
“No. Let’s just get loaded. The sooner we’re gone from here, the happier I will be.”
Later that day, Reed sent two of his most trusted men into the town. Several hours and taverns later, they returned with the information he sought. He waited to approach Kathleen until he was certain she was alone in their cabin. He told her about the men lurking about on the dock, and then related what the two crewmen had heard.
“Kat, they found out why Isabel has been in hiding.” His face betrayed his reluctance to hurt her with his news.
Kathleen’s teeth worried her bottom lip. The news was obviously bad, or Reed would be faster to reveal it. Steeling herself mentally, she said, “Tell me.”
Reed heaved a deep sigh and seated himself on the edge of his desk. “Isabel has been married for the last three years to Count Carlos Santiago, a very rich and important nobleman. That is, she was married to him until two months ago. Apparently he was an extremely dominating man, well known for his cruelty to his servants and disliked by many of his fellow noblemen. All that aside, he was found one morning in his private drawing room, slain. A sword was found in his hand, and another near the door to the courtyard.
“At first it was thought that an unknown adversary had entered the room, sparred with him, killed him and left. However, both rapiers belonged to Don Carlos. Also, Isabel was nowhere to be found. A maid identified a shredded piece of fabric found near the body as part of one of Isabel’s favorite nightrobes.
“Isabel has not been seen since early on the evening of the murder. The authorities have been searching for her
for two months now. Needless to say, she is their prime suspect.
“I’m sorry, Kat.”
Kathleen was stunned. She shook her head vigorously in denial. “No! A nobleman has been killed, and they need a scapegoat. There has to be another explanation.”
“Then why hasn’t ‘"Isabel come forward to clear herself?” Reed insisted.
“Really, Reed!” she huffed. “She might just as well buy the rope they’d hang her with! Do you think they’d listen? They most likely want someone to blame so they can conclude their case all nice and tidy, and justice be damned!”
“Alright, I’ll give you that much. The fact remains that we are now knowledgably harboring a wanted woman. The question is—what do we do about it?”
Kathleen looked at him squarely, her emerald eyes glittering with determination, her chin jutting out stubbornly. “Nothing,” she answered firmly. “We go on as if we knew nothing of what you have just relayed to me; as if Isabel never burst through that door last night; as if we’ve not seen her at all.”
“And if the authorities question us?” Reed persisted. “They surely know we visited the Fernandez home yesterday. I believe that is why those three men are observing the Kat-Ann so closely. Since they have not approached the ship, I assume they did not see Isabel sneak aboard last night.”
“If they question us, we know nothing,” Kathleen insisted. “If they come to search the ship, we’ll hide her somehow.”
“And what if she truly is guilty of killing her husband?”
Kathleen shrugged. “Then I can only assume he deserved it,” she stated confidently. “I know Isabel. She is a fine, gentle person. If she was driven to murder, she had good reason.”
Reed sighed. “Alright, Kat. As you say, you know Isabel. We’ll keep her aboard, hide her if necessary. Then, when she is able, we’ll hear her side of it.”
Kathleen’s tense body relaxed, and she offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Reed. I owe you a debt of gratitude for this.”
He grinned lecherously at her, his blue eyes blazing. “And I’ll collect with interest, my love.”
Chapter 2
That evening they traveled down to Seville, where they stayed for two days. Then, under cover of darkness, they slipped out of the river and were soon heading north toward the British Isles. It wasn’t until they were well out into the Atlantic that Isabel’s fever finally broke and she regained consciousness at last. Weak as a newborn kitten, she could barely swallow the nourishing broths Kathleen and Della spooned into her. Through cracked lips, she managed to whisper her gratitude to Kathleen and Reed, but explanations were postponed until she was stronger.
Isabel slept for long periods of time, waking only when the women forced her to eat. Gradually, some of her strength returned, and she could sit up in her bed, propped by pillows. Broths slowly gave way to soft foods, and Isabel’s color improved.
They were a day’s sailing from Ireland when Reed decided the time had come for their talk. “Isabel,”
he began, “after you arrived aboard ship, we heard tales that you were wanted by the Spanish government in connection with the death of your husband. You sought our help, and we gave it. Now we would like an explanation, please.”
Reed had not spoken harshly, or with condemnation. Nevertheless, Isabel’s face took on a hunted look, and she turned frightened black eyes toward Kathleen, seeking assurance.
“It will be all right, Isabel,” Kathleen soothed. “My husband is a fair and decent man. My goodness! You look as if we might dump you straight into the Atlantic! My dear friend, you are safe with us. Besides, I’ve told Reed there must be some mistake. I do not believe you could have killed your husband.”
Isabel’s eyes filled with tears, and her lips quivered as she spoke softly. “But I did, Kathleen. I stabbed him and watched him die; and that much, at least, I do not regret, may God forgive me!”
Amazement held Kathleen speechless. It was Reed who asked quietly, “Why?”
Tears were sliding unnoticed one after another down Isabel’s cheeks. With a helpless, pained look, Isabel recounted sadly, “How do I make you understand what it was like to live with such a man day after day, year after year? Even my own father could not see what a beast he was, but perhaps that was because Papa had arranged the marriage in the first place. Carlos seemed such an aloof, polite person when we were out in public. It was only in the privacy of our own home that he showed his true nature. The servants could tell you how hateful he was.”
Her voice began to shake with emotion, but Isabel struggled on. “It started on our wedding night. The charming man who had courted me suddenly became very impatient with my shyness. I was very frightened and unsure of what to expect, and Carlos was—less than gentle with me that night. From then on, I hated those nights he would visit my bed. I lived in fear of the pain and of him.
“Looking back, that first year was bad enough, but it became worse—much worse. Carlos was anxious for a son, and he was furious when, after more than a year, I had failed to conceive. He blamed me. At any time, he would suddenly fly into a rage and drag me off to my bedchamber, day or night. Then he started coming home with all sorts of strange powders and concoctions he’d gotten from some witch-woman, and he would force me to drink the evil mixtures. So eager was he that I honestly feared that he would risk poisoning me in the process.”
Isabel brought her hands to her face, as if to hide her shame. “I cannot begin to tell you the unspeakable things he did to my body, all for the sake of begetting a child! He beat me so regularly that I was always covered with bruises, often so obvious that I could not leave the house. I became his prisoner, the focus of all his anger.”
“Oh, Isabel! Why didn’t someone stop him?” Kathleen asked.
Reed agreed. “Surely your father did not condone such treatment of his daughter.”
An eerie, mirthless laugh escaped Isabel’s throat. “When my father noticed the bruises, he told me if I were a proper wife to Carlos, he would not treat me so badly. He advised me to learn to please my husband.” The laughter ended on a strangled note. “Only my mother and my dueña Josepha seemed to understand my plight, and they could do nothing. As Carlos’s wife, I was his property, to do with as he wished. In Spain, men have killed their wives, and the authorities do nothing; but for a wife to murder her husband is a crime of great magnitude.”
“What happened that night you finally killed him?” Kathleen asked. “Surely you had been tempted many times before.”
“Ooh! I cannot tell you!” Isabel wailed. “You will never want me near you again! You will be too disgusted, and I shall lose my only true friend!”
Kathleen could see that Isabel was on the brink of hysteria. Gently she gathered the sobbing girl into her arms, stroking her hair. “Isabel, listen to me,” she urged. “Perhaps what you have to say is shocking and very terrible, but I will always be your friend. You came to me in trust. Trust me now.”
“But Caterina! Kathleen! How can I make you see? It is obvious that you love your husband, and he loves you. You must have led such a serene, pleasant life together with your children.”
For one crazy moment, Kathleen wanted to laugh. As she caught Reed’s eye, she was afraid Reed might as well. "No, Isabel. It wasn’t all that quiet at first,” she said solemnly.
The corners of Reed’s mouth twitched. “Emerald could tell you differently,” he stated mockingly.
A frown of confusion wrinkled Isabel’s brow. “Who is this Emerald?”
Kathleen shook her head. “Another time, my friend. Tell us about the night you killed Carlos.”
With a weary sigh of resignation, Isabel hung her head. Her hair shielding her face, she began to speak in a voice so low and trembling it was a mere whisper. “That night Carlos entertained two friends. They were men I’d never met before. He’d invited them for dinner, telling me they were business associates, and ordering me to dress and come down to dinner on time.
“As soon as I could politely do so after the meal, I returned upstairs to my rooms. I assumed the men would take brandy and discuss business with Carlos. No sooner had I prepared for bed, than the door to my bedroom opened, and in came Carlos, bringing his two friends with him! You cannot imagine how shocked I was! But that was just the beginning of a nightmare that will always haunt me. If just one day would go by that I could forget what happened that night . . . ! It was like being thrown into hell, with Carlos as the Devil, his demons at his side!”
A long moan of pure agony escaped her, and Isabel paused to collect herself. Kathleen continued to hold her, seeking to calm the terrible trembling that had overtaken the girl. “What happened?” she urged, although by now she had a fairly good idea.
“Carlos told me he had instructed his friends to bed me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! He'd gone mad! He said that I was a hopeless excuse for a wife; that I deliberately expelled his seed. He claimed I was of no use to him as a wife, so now I would whore for him. He even went so far as to suggest that I might conceive from one of these men, and thus redeem myself to some extent. He was even crazy enough to say that he would claim the child as his heir!”
Isabel choked on her tears, and Kathleen tightened her hold. Fury and misery made her long to strike out at Isabel’s attackers. “They raped you,” she sighed, closing her eyes against hot tears. “How dreadful!”
Isabel nodded. “Yes, each of them; all of them. I tried to fight, but I was not strong enough. The pain and humiliation were unbearable. At some point I must have fainted, but I remember hearing Carlos’s demonic laughter all the while. I remember that most of all, for it seemed a sound straight from Hell! I still hear it in my dreams!
“When I finally awoke, they were gone, and the house was quiet. I crawled from my bed to wash as best I could. My reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. My lips and eyes were swollen, and my cheek was already turning purple. I remember thinking I should get some raw meat from the kitchen to put on my face, so I slipped on a robe and crept down the stairs.
“The hallway to the kitchen led past Carlos’s private drawing room, and the door was open. He was sitting in a chair by the fireplace, smoking a cigar. I probably would have gone on by, had Carlos not looked up just then and seen me. He couldn’t resist taunting me. ‘Did you enjoy the party, Isabel?’ he asked me. ‘I hope so. My friends and I did. In fact, we are going to repeat it quite often, until you are with child.’ Then he laughed that evil, crazed laugh I remember so well.”
Closing her eyes, Isabel drew in a painful breath. “I don’t know quite how it happened, but the next I knew, I’d gone into the room. I had taken down both rapiers from the wall, and was handing one to Carlos. Suddenly, I was strangely calm, and I recall enjoying the look of astonishment on Carlos’s face as I told him I was going to kill him.
“Carlos was a fair swordsman, and I remember wondering if it might be I who would die that night. At that point, it didn’t matter. Dying would be a welcome relief from living with that madm
an.
“Carlos seemed amused at this new ‘game.’ Warning me that if I failed to kill him, things would go worse for me, he promised not to kill me. He swore he’d find more refined ways to torture me in the future.
“As we faced one another with no more than four feet between us, I felt no fear. I was beyond fear, I think. Perhaps he had pushed me over the edge of sanity at that point. His sword came up and slashed at my gown, grazing my thigh. It was much later I realized he’d cut me. Somewhere in my brain, I must have been recalling some of what your fencing instructor taught me, Kathleen, though I was too dazed to realize it then. Carlos threw back his head and laughed at me, never dreaming I’d have the strength to raise the sword against him with any results.
“That laugh was the final straw. Something snapped in me, and from somewhere within I found the courage and strength to attack. Taking advantage of his confident inattention, I raised my rapier and drove it straight through his heart.
“He was dead before he hit the floor, I believe, but not before he realized what I had done. Always, I shall savor the look of absolute amazement on his face as I pulled the sword from his chest!
“How long I stood in dazed triumph over his body, I do not know. I do not recall leaving the house. Instinct must have led me to my parents’ home, for I awoke on the seat of a coach in their carriage house, still dressed in my night-robe. Recalling what I had done, I was debating whether or not to go into the house, when I saw the civil authorities arrive.
“After they’d gone, I crept up the backstaircase into Josepha’s room and waited for her. When she arrived and found me there, she warned me not to go to my father. He was horrified that I had been accused of killing Carlos, and was determined to turn me over to the officials and see me pay for my crimes if I came to him for help. The entire household was instructed to inform him the minute they saw me.
“Josepha, my nurse and companion from childhood, decided to help me. As I had no money or clothes of my own, she gave me one of her old dresses. She hid me until nightfall, then took me to the poorest section of town, to the house of friends of her family. With her own money, she paid for my keep.
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