The Raven's Revenge

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The Raven's Revenge Page 12

by Gina Black


  He came awake all at once, grabbing her and thrusting her away. She landed on her bottom on the floor.

  “Mistress?” he gulped in dismay, looking down at her. “Have I hurt ye?”

  She shook her head. Lifting a cautionary finger to her lips, she nodded in Henry’s direction.

  Jeremy sat up. “Cromwell’s own army would not wake our friend,” he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “He drank so much brandy his words came out tangled. I had to help him to his bed.” The groom yawned. “Why are you here, mistress? What is amiss?”

  “All is fine, Jeremy.” Katherine got up. “It is just that I have decided we must part company with our traveling companions. And ’tis less complicated to do so now than to wait until morning.” She brushed off the back of Nicholas’s cloak.

  Jeremy searched her face in the darkness. “If he has harmed you in any way, I will call him out.”

  Katherine looked down. “He has not harmed me.” She felt herself color, glad of the mask of darkness. It was not a lie, yet not exactly the truth either.

  Jeremy nodded. When he spoke, his words came out softly. “I see you are wearing his coat. You have brought your belongings.” He nodded to the two bags at her feet and her shoes and stockings. “But where is your cat? I cannot believe you have decided to leave Montford behind without good cause. What happened, mistress?”

  “We lost a day of travel because we have an incompetent guide. I would prefer to go on without him,” Katherine snapped, not wanting to explain her decision.

  Jeremy looked unconvinced, but then he nodded. “I do not trust him, and have always felt we would be better off without him.”

  “We can travel at night as he suggested. Now that I know how to read the stars we can get to London without further mishap.”

  “I will saddle the better horse for us.”

  Katherine shook her head. “I will not ride. The horse is not ours, and I would not take what is not mine.”

  “It will lengthen our journey by several days. Yet, I understand why you do not ride.” He nodded. “Aright, mistress. I shall be ready in a moment.”

  Katherine turned her back to him. As he dressed, she plaited her hair into one long rope, and put on her stockings and shoes.

  Once out of the stables, Katherine paused to locate the North Star. Shrugging off the memory of Nicholas’s hands upon her, his breath on her cheek, she forced herself forward. Fixing the bright star above her left shoulder, she led Jeremy from the courtyard, and through the town.

  Katherine hugged Nicholas’s coat against the chill. As they walked quietly through the empty lanes, his scent enveloped her, mingling with the smells of habitation. Their footfalls were loud in the hush of the still night. The weak light of the crescent moon provided scant illumination. A dog barked.

  They had not been clear of the town long when Jeremy stopped and tossed down his satchel. “It has come to my mind, ‘twould be best to return to Ashfield.”

  The loud chirping of a cricket filled the silence before Katherine answered. “I have already told you I will not go back. I would as soon travel alone as return to Ashfield with you.”

  “’Tis my duty to take you to your father.”

  Katherine shook her head. “I absolve you of all duty to me. Either come as my friend or come not at all.”

  “’Tis not so easy as that.”

  “Come Jeremy, or stay as you will.” Katherine’s voice was sharp and exasperated. “I do not wish to argue with you now. I go to London.”

  Jeremy reluctantly nodded. He reached for one of her bundles, and picked up his own. “To London,” he agreed, but he did not sound happy.

  * * *

  Nicholas stretched. He could hear the bones in his back crack. Damn, but the floor was hard. It would surely be good to get back to London, to his rooms and his feather bed. This business of being a gentleman and taking the floor had little to recommend it.

  He opened his eyes to see the early morning light creep in through the window. A warm presence against his chest told him Montford had joined him during the night. He reached over and scratched her behind the ears. A loud purr erupted from the feline, and she extended a long languid leg.

  He smiled, and gave her one last pat. As he sat up the cat fell sideways with a peculiar lack of grace. Sending him an irritated glare, she righted herself, and began to wash a spot just between her shoulders.

  Nicholas chuckled then hushed when he realized he’d not heard a sound from Katherine. He glanced toward the bed but could not see her under the tumble of covers.

  Who would have guessed his little Puritan would be so delectable? And so naïve. He could not remember ever being so innocent himself. And certainly never so frightened by a kiss. He had heard her fidget for quite awhile before he’d drifted off to sleep.

  Against the protest of his joints, Nicholas stood. From this new perspective, it became immediately apparent Katherine was not there. He scowled. Where could she have gone?

  To the kitchens?

  Maybe to speak with the boy?

  Nicholas frowned down at the other occupant of the room. “Where is your mistress?”

  The cat paused in her morning ablutions and studied him gravely.

  Raking a hand through his hair, Nicholas made a quick assessment of the room. Her cloak was here, but her satchels were missing.

  “Do you think she has left us? I can understand her leaving without me. But without you? Or do you think—“ Nicholas broke off as he realized he spoke to a cat. Placing his hands on his hips, he cast a glance heavenward. But then he looked back down at the wee beast. “Do you think she is just gone for the moment?”

  Montford threw him a companionable glance and began to clean a paw.

  Nicholas scowled. He could not take time with his toilet. Stuffing his feet into his shoes, he looked about for his cloak, but it, too, was missing. Hastening to the door, he turned back to Montford before leaving.

  Feeling ridiculous, nevertheless he shook a finger at the cat. “Do not go anywhere. If your lady returns, bid her stay.”

  Montford gazed back unblinking.

  Moments later, Nicholas arrived at the room off the stables where Jeremy and Henry slept. Katherine had not been in the kitchen, nor the common room, nor standing about in the courtyard. But he’d not really thought to find her in any of those places. And Jeremy’s pallet was empty.

  He shook Henry awake. “They are gone, man.”

  Henry looked at him through reddened eyes. He raised a trembling hand to his head. “Have ye no care for me head, Nicky?” He sat up unsteadily, rubbing his jaw. “My tooth it is better, but me head pounds dreadful now.”

  “We must leave. Right now,” Nicholas commanded. “Pull yourself together then have the horses brought round, unless they are also gone.”

  * * *

  Gerald Welles looked up as the Ashfield butler interrupted his morning meal, yet another reminder that nothing had run smoothly since Katherine’s departure.

  “Yes?” he inquired through a mouth full of sausage.

  “A letter. From the postal messenger.” Old Blake proffered the folded paper as if he held a dead rodent.

  “Well, give it here, man,” Gerald wiped a greasy hand onto his shirt and reached for the missive. He’d expected word from Finch by now.

  It had been two long days spent in prayer with Father. His knees hurt, and his back ached. Worse, the older man’s sermons on sin and fornication had moved on from being directed at Katherine and Jeremy to Gerald.

  He ran a thumbnail under the wax-seal. Holding the letter at a comfortable distance, he read the unfamiliar handwriting.

  Master Gerald Welles,

  Be it known your daughter, Katherine, is safe. She is enjoying good health and will be returned to you with her maidenhead intact, only when you release Ashfield and your claim upon it to me, the rightful owner.

  As an act of good faith to your family for seeing this unjust situation righted, all amounts paid to Cro
mwell for the estate will be returned to you in the form of a dowry for your daughter.

  Should you choose to turn down this offer, please know I intend to pursue my claim to Ashfield with an influential friend, also returned from exile, who I believe will be sympathetic to my plight.

  You may respond to my man of business, Henry Fitzhughes, Abermarle Road, London.

  I remain,

  Nicholas Edward Henry Philip Montford, Earl of Ashton

  Gerald put down his knife as he re-read the signature line.

  Montford.

  Earl.

  Ashton.

  The words popped out at him.

  Katherine still had her maidenhead. Relief hit him hard and sure. Jeremy hadn’t already got it, then. This was colossally good news.

  Of course Gerald would not comply with any of the demands, even though the prospect of having Finch as a son-in-law had been losing its attraction ever since the deal had been set. He would use this to get back into Finch’s good graces.

  Gerald carefully folded the letter and set it aside. He smiled and took another mouthful of sausage.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AS DAWN’S GLOW illuminated the murky shadows, green pastures and trees gradually emerged from the blackened gloom. In the light of the new day, Katherine’s tired mind could no longer push away the doubts that had gnawed at her during the night.

  Why had she left Nicholas?

  Was it because he was an unreliable guide?

  Or was it because she found him handsome and liked his kisses?

  The most pleasant thing a man and woman can do together.

  If she had stayed at the inn, would she have been tempted to discover if he spoke the truth?

  Katherine shuddered. Her insides went fluttery as she recalled the feel of his lips on hers, of his tongue exploring her mouth, of his hands pulling her to him. The smell of exotic spice and coffee wafted from his cloak, reminding her of the comfort she’d found in his strong arms while riding atop the horse.

  Trudging at Jeremy’s side, she moved in a growing misery of aching legs and feet. Even though the groom had taken the heavier bag, her arms had long since grown weary of the other. Strands of hair had worked lose from her braid and hung limp in front of her eyes. She blew at them but they resettled before her nose.

  Waves of exhaustion broke over her. A pebble had lodged itself in one shoe and she had not stopped to take it out. The growing irritation worked like a scourge of self-punishment. She felt a queer tightness in her chest and her eyes stung.

  Reaching the apex of a hill, Katherine wavered. Fenced-in parcels of grazing sheep, cultivated fields, woodlands and farms dotted the landscape that stretched out before them. The road dipped downward and then up again as if it would go on forever. Would it lead to London and Cousin Alicia’s house? Or had she got Nicholas’s instructions wrong? Perhaps after days of travel they would find themselves in Wales.

  And what if they did get to London and Cousin Alicia didn’t want her?

  Katherine’s vision blurred and a moan rose from her throat. She dropped her satchel and fell to her knees on the dirt road. She pressed her hands to her eyes, but she could not stop the tears from spilling over and running hot down her cheeks. Strange choking noises finally erupted in a great sob.

  “Mistress?”

  At the note of alarm in Jeremy’s voice, she bawled all the more.

  “Are you all right?”

  “No!” Pulling her hands from her eyes, Katherine saw a look of panic on his face. She took a deep breath to steady herself, but the sobs burst forth again. “Oh J-Jeremy,” she wailed, “I am so s-sorry.”

  “Sorry?” he squeaked.

  “For this f-fool’s journey we are on.”

  Jeremy took a step toward her. “I think ye be needing food and rest.”

  Katherine shook her head. “I don’t know where we are.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “And if we do ever get to London, Cousin Alicia doesn’t know I’m coming!”

  Jeremy’s jaw dropped.

  Katherine wiped her eyes on Nicholas’s cloak, catching another whiff of his special smell. A great longing hit her. She wished he’d been the kind of man she could have trusted. Or maybe that she hadn’t been so afraid.

  But she could not change that now.

  “My cousin had said, when she was last at Ashfield, she hoped I could come for an extended visit.” Katherine clenched her teeth and blinked hard so the tears would not come anew. “But she might have guests when we arrive. Or perhaps she has gone visiting herself and is not at home. Or perhaps I mistook the invitation.”

  She looked up at him. “An’ it may not matter, since we could be lost, and we may never find her. Or even London, no matter how grand a place it is.”

  Jeremy took another small step toward her, raised his eyebrows and made a beckoning smile as if coaxing a stray animal. She half expected to see him stretch a hand forth with a choice bit of food on it.

  “Let us rest, mistress. ’Twill seem different, no doubt, when our bellies are full.”

  Katherine sniffled.

  Jeremy reached into his satchel and pulled out a half-loaf of brown bread. “Here. I have what we need.”

  In spite of the lint adhering to the crust, Katherine’s mouth watered, and her stomach growled. Hysterical laughter rose in her chest and came out a strange giggle.

  Jeremy helped her up.

  They found a spot to eat and rest near a grove of ash trees, just out of sight of the road. Katherine took off Nicholas’s cloak and spread it on the ground. Releasing her feet from the prison of her shoes, she tossed away the pebble and sank down beside Jeremy. She picked the fluff off the bread and took a bite. As she ate, a great lassitude stole over her. Robins chirped in the nearby trees. A caterpillar inched its way toward them across dew-laden weeds, its progress slow but purposeful, unaware of the obstacle they would present to its journey. Katherine wondered if their efforts were as futile as the bug’s.

  “How far do you think we have come?” she asked.

  Jeremy hazarded a glance in her direction. “’Tis hard to say. I should think at least eight miles, but less than twelve.” He flopped down on his back. Shielding his eyes from the rising sun, he added lightly, “Had we taken a horse, we’d be closer to London now.”

  Katherine shrugged at his rebuke. “Or, being lost, we could also be further away.” She sighed. “And what of my father and our neighbor? Where do you think they are?”

  “Far, far, from us, mistress. England is a very big country, and two people are very small. There is no reason to think they would find us after these many days.” Jeremy rolled to his side. “Ouch,” he rubbed his elbow. “What is this?”

  Katherine had completely forgotten about the pocket on the inside of Nicholas’s cape. Jeremy eagerly spilled its contents onto the cloak. She breathed easier when she saw no sign of the Raven’s black cowl. She did not want to explain that now. Happily, the coins remained, which meant dinner could be bought when they reached a village or town.

  Jeremy’s eyes widened when he saw the odd cylindrical device she’d first seen in the cottage. “Why, I think ’tis a spyglass!” He picked it up and put one end to his eye. Then turning it around, he peered through the other end. “I have always wanted look through one of these.” As he gazed through the strange object, his mouth curled into a smile.

  Katherine followed the direction of his eye, but failed to see anything of interest, except perhaps the caterpillar she had noticed earlier. It had managed to find its way around them and still plodded onward.

  “What does it do?” she asked.

  “Look,” Jeremy held the spyglass up to her eye. “Close t’other.”

  Katherine looked through the eyepiece and almost fell backward as the world rushed toward her. She pushed the instrument away. “It brings everything close. ’Tis dizzying.”

  “What do you suppose he is doing with this?” Jeremy raised it again to one eye.

  Kather
ine could well imagine the uses of such a devise for a highwayman, but she just shook her head.

  Leaving Jeremy to play with the spyglass, she yawned and lay down. With her stomach appeased, weariness overcame her. Nicholas’s scent rose from the fine wool of his cloak and wrapped around her. She snuggled into the fabric and fell asleep.

  * * *

  “Damn the wench,” Nicholas muttered. And damn me for being an imbecile, he added silently. Last night when she’d stepped into the hallway, he’d lost control of whatever good sense he possessed. Why couldn’t he remember she was a missish Puritan and not one of the court flirts?

  Nicholas glowered. If he had imagined just one month before, that he would be searching the countryside for a wayward Puritan heiress with the questionable help of his brandy-sick, but nevertheless faithful, retainer—and a cat—he would have thought it all a good joke. Yet today he failed to see the humor in it.

  The situation was serious. He had to find her, and fast. With only the boy for protection, she would be easy plunder for any highwayman or ruffian she came across.

  The sun had well passed its zenith when they turned into the courtyard at the King’s Tavern in Marlborough, discouraged and tired after hours of fruitless searching. Nicholas threw his reins to the hostler as he dismounted, then untied the basket containing Montford, who protested with loud meows.

  Henry swung from his horse. He landed unsteadily and winced. Raising shaking hands, he massaged his temples. “Nicky,” he spoke in almost a groan. “No matter what I say or do, if ye care for me at all, do not let me take even a nip of brandy ever again.”

  Nicholas scowled. “I offered to leave you behind while I searched for the girl.”

  Henry pulled himself to his full height. “An’ you remember what happened last time ye left me behind?” He shook his head, and grimaced from the motion. “Nah. I could not let ye go on your own.”

  “So it’s to protect me that you have come along, my mighty friend? I do feel much safer.”

 

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