Lord Blake Roberts owned a number of ships, and his ships were only one small part of the vast empire built in the twelve years since he left his family home, Windsong.
He stood alone in the peaceful night and remembered how proud he had been when his grandfather turned over the running of their estates to him and his younger brother, Ryon. Blake was twenty-one at the time; young, cocky, and so damn naive. Eager to experience the glamour of society, he’d spent much of the first year at their town-house in London. It was there, at court, he met Catherine, a red-haired beauty with emerald-green eyes.
Blake winced at the memory, at how quickly he’d been ensnared by her flirtatious charm. In his youthful foolishness, he believed he loved Catherine, and was certain he couldn’t continue to exist without her by his side as his wife. Blinded by her beauty, he could not see the scheming tramp she was. He’d learned soon enough, though, when she spurned him for an elderly nobleman with twice his wealth. The shock and pain of his beloved’s betrayal scarred him. Never again would he play the fool for a woman. The Blake Roberts who made that vow was a wiser and harder man.
He took another sip of brandy and forced his mind away from Catherine. He should be grateful, if it hadn’t been for his need to escape the very thought of her, he would never have turned to the sea, never have established the trading and shipping company. It brought him both wealth and satisfaction. And he would have never known the peacefullness of sunsets such as this one.
A soft breeze ruffled Blake’s hair, and his eyes focused on the darkness about him. The ship’s rocking beneath his feet brought him back to the present, his memories receding to their proper places in the past.
The ship would dock in London tomorrow and within days, he would be home. It had been too long since he had seen his grandfather and brother. Now the old man lay ill, perhaps dying. The thought misted Blake’s eyes — he found it painful to imagine Windsong without his grandfather’s presence.
Blake’s mother had died giving birth to his younger brother, Ryon, and their grief-stricken father passed with the same year. Their grandfather raised the two boys and Blake’s heart ached when he thought of all the years he had been away. Why hadn’t he spent more time at home, especially during these last years, when his grandfather needed him most? The knowledge that Ryon remained at Windsong brought some comfort to Blake. He also knew the joy his grandfather felt when Ryon married a year ago. The young couple now expected their first child — perhaps the babe already born. Blake smiled at the thought of being an uncle. Certainly being a great-grandfather would delight Jason Roberts tremendously.
With one last look at the stars, Blake turned and went below deck to his cabin. Thoughts of family and Windsong made him realize how much he missed them. It certainly would be nice to be home again and enjoy the peace and love of family.
Chapter Three
THE SUN SHINED BRIGHT and hot on the small group of workers. The unusual warm spell combined with the humidity gave them no relief from the heat. Rina straightened her aching back, resting one hand on her hip while her fingers massaged her sore muscles. She glanced around the never-ending field of wheat, feeling the sweat rolling down her back and between her breasts. Her thick hair was pulled back in a long braid with several unruly strands curled on her damp face and neck.
The others left the field to seek a short rest and a bite to eat. Rina grabbed her bundle and crossed to a nearby oak tree. Its giant limbs spread out like a canopy, providing shade from the warm sun. Deep in thought, she nibbled on a piece of bread and did not notice the young man who came up beside her.
“You shouldn’t be so serious, it makes you frown. You’re so much prettier when you smile, Kat.” A young man grinned at Katrina as he plopped on the ground beside her.
“Johnny, you startled me,” Rina scolded, pretending to be mad. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.” Despite her efforts otherwise, her frown turned into a smile and a mischievous sparkle lit her eyes.
“If you weren’t so deep in thought, you would have heard me.” John playfully pulled Rina’s hat down over her eyes, and tugged gently on her long braid. Rina laughed, pulled the hat off and started hitting him over the head with it in a barrage of painless blows.
“Okay, okay — I give up, Kat. You win.” John groaned in mock-defeat and stretched out his long frame, his broad shoulders resting against the trunk of the tree. His strong, stocky build with tremendously powerful arms and shoulders relaxed and he casually raked a big hand through his unruly blond hair.
He watched Rina and a look of love and tenderness filled his eyes. Dirt streaked her face, her gorgeous hair was pulled back into a braid, and the coarse dress she wore was plain, stained from the day’s work. Despite all this, she was beautiful.
They’d been inseparable since she’d moved into the cottage down the street from him eight years before. They’d fought and played like brother and sister, but lately, John found himself more and more disturbed by her loveliness.
“Why the frown, Johnny?” Katrina asked, unaware of the path his thoughts had taken.
“Damn it, Kat — you get prettier every day,” John muttered.
“You shouldn’t call me Kat. It would be better if you called me Rina like everyone else does,” she snapped. Uncomfortable, she blushed at his probing gaze.
“I only call you Kat when no one is around … and you know it. So don’t change the subject.”
Much to John’s amusement, Katrina glanced away. An anger sparked in her eyes as her color darkened further. But, determined not to be undone by him, she forced herself to meet his gaze. As he looked into those deep pools of blue, John realized she had no idea how she affected men, and how dangerous her beauty was.
“You know every unattached man in the village is madly in love with you. It’s become a full-time job lately to watch out for you.” John paused a moment, then voiced his next thought. “You know, Kat, sometimes I wish we hadn’t grown up together.”
Concerned by his sudden remark, Rina reached out and caressed his cheek, her touch tender and loving. “Johnny, I don’t understand — you’re the brother I never had. Why would you wish it to be different?”
He heard the hurt in her words and sighed unhappily. John had watched Rina grow from a scrawny little girl into a strong, beautiful woman. He saw the way men looked at her, heard the ribald comments, and he felt completely helpless to stop the reactions she stirred in men.
“If I hadn’t grown to love you as my sister, we could marry and I wouldn’t have to worry about you so much. Most men would respect a married woman, and those who don’t — well, I could take care of them easily enough. Rina, you can’t trust men — not when their need is roused. I’m afraid one day I won’t be around and someone will hurt you.”
Just thinking about this made John see red. He would kill anyone who thought of harming one hair on her head. The truth of her identity never mattered to him. When she first came to the village she, frail and alone, John sensed her fear and distress. His heart reached out to the sad, lonely girl and their friendship grew into a strong binding trust. John shared Rina’s secrets and knew of her promise to get Camray back and destroy the vile man who had usurped her birthright.
“Johnny,” Katrina broke into his thoughts, “you’re being silly. You know I can take care of myself. You, of all people, should know that.”
“Yeah,” he agreed grudgingly, “I suppose you’re right.”
Petite but strong, Kat was a formidable opponent. Untold hours spent with Jake learning how to defend her own honor, combined with her quickness and agility, made her fearsome when angered.
John grinned and teased, “I should be worried about the poor bloke who would be stupid enough to try anything.”
“Right,” laughed Rina in agreement. “He would be in sad shape, so no more of this big-brother talk. Understood?”
Taking another bite of cheese, she shoved the rest in John’s mouth and let out a shriek when he bit her finger. He
grabbed her and started to tickle unmercifully, making her roll with laughter, begging him to stop. But all laughter retreated into silence when Rina spotted a cloud of dust approaching them.
A black carriage drawn by a pair of matching black horses pulled up to the field. A shadow passed over Rina’s face, leaving it solemn and unreadable. She watched closely as the two men sat smugly in the fancy barouche and looked over the field.
“It looks like His Highness is out to inspect his lands, making sure we are doing our job right,” John growled, his gaze following the men warily.
Lawrence and Randolph Langsford looked alike, the similarity in their personalities frightening. They were both thin and of average height, but their musculature was apparent beneath their finely tailored clothing. Fair skin made their raven hair look blacker, their features more sharp and distinct. But their eyes caused people to take notice; it was as if those ebony spheres saw things others could not. Thin lips rarely smiled, and when they did, the smiles lied, for their dark eyes always revealed the truth. If it were not for the cold evil emanating from them, they might have been considered handsome. But to Katrina, the devil himself rode in the carriage, and from what she knew of Randolph, she did not think much better of the beast’s son.
In truth, Randolph was his nephew, but Lawrence treated him as a son. It was common knowledge when Lawrence was three years old, his mother, who had lain with countless men since her brief affair with her grandfather, gave birth to a second bastard child, a girl. Lawrence hated his mother for the mark of shame he and his half-sister, Anna, were doomed to bear. He tried to protect his delicate little sister from the sneers and hatred, lavishing all his affections on her, the only person he ever loved. At fifteen Anna had gotten pregnant, the secret of the father’s identity dying with her when she gave birth to a son. Her death almost destroyed Lawrence. In his grief, he transferred the overpowering love for his sister to the baby, and took him to rear as his own.
Lawrence held up a hand to shade his eyes from the blinding sun. God, it was warm. He wondered why he had decided to leave the coolness of Camray to inspect his fields. His heavy coat of black velvet and its handsome matching waistcoat proved to be extremely hot, and Lawrence regretted the choice he had so carefully made when dressing. He removed a delicate handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. He glanced about and took notice of the scattered workers.
“Why are these people lazing about?” Lawrence snapped in irritation at his foreman, a look of sheer disgust crossing his features at their shabby appearance.
“They are having their midday break to eat and rest, my lord,” replied the man riding next to the carriage.
“They seem to be finished eating. Get them back to work … now. They are wasting precious daylight.” He dabbed at the perspiration on his upper lip and grabbed his whip. With a fierce crack over the horses’ rumps, he steered them back toward Camray. Impatient to reach the cool interior of the house, he drove them still faster, anxious for something to quench his growing thirst.
The foreman watched as the Langsford carriage disappeared over the hill, then ordered the people back to work. Slowly, everyone got to their feet, grumbling their time was cut short. Rina and John exchanged angry looks and then went back to the field. They worked until darkness shrouded them, and exhausted, trudged back to their homes, seeking the meager comfort they provided.
Silent, Rina walked with John down the dry, dusty road. They wound through the narrow, cobbled street and he left her to her thoughts, knowing the cause of her dark mood. When they reached Rina’s cottage she turned and walked instead into the shack next to the small, whitewashed hut. A smile came to her face and she hastened to the single stall within. A whinny greeted her as a warm, soft nose nuzzled her neck. Rina stroked his muzzle and whispered lovingly into his ear, causing the horse to paw the floor in delight at seeing his mistress. He was a magnificent animal, as black as coal. Grabbing a handful of straw, Rina rubbed him down. John picked up some hay and oats to feed Blackstar.
“I hate that bastard,” she declared, finally breaking the companionable silence.
John paused in his work to look at the fury claiming her eyes, the pain touching her face.
“I don’t know how much longer I can sit by and do nothing. I want to kill him for what he did to my parents, but what he does to these good people is a crime as well. Though a bit slower in his method, he is killing them just as surely.”
Rina stopped as the uncontrollable anger crept over her. Blackstar sensed her tension and hesitated in his munching, ears alert to her voice. He turned and nibbled tenderly on her ear, and Rina hugged him to her. Satisfied, he returned to his meal.
“He sits in his mansion … my mansion … surrounded by wealth, not giving a damn he is starving and working these people to death. Every year he takes more and more, leaving them less to live on. Johnny, some of them will not make it through another winter. The children … there are so many to care for. They won’t survive without proper food, warmer clothing, and more fuel for heat. Too many died of sickness last winter … unnecessarily.”
Rina’s eyes clouded as she remembered each death. She fought for their lives with all the knowledge she possessed, but it was not enough. Over the years she had lost friends to the diseases winter’s cold brought. It was a losing battle and it terrified her.
“We can’t hunt for our food in the forests; it takes game from Langsford’s table. We are allotted pitiful amounts of wood, to make certain he doesn’t get cold in his huge mansion. He wastes enough food in one meal to feed this whole village. What he spends on one suit of clothing would provide warm clothes for everyone. Did you know most of these women have little more than a shawl to ward off the cold? And the children — some don’t have shoes. Damn — damn his murdering soul to hell.”
Rina struggled to control her overwhelming rage. John pulled her to him, holding her as she trembled and tried to calm her. Slowly, the fires inside her subsided in the security and comfort of John’s arms. When she had regained control of her emotions, Rina resumed currying Blackstar’s coat again.
“Johnny, we must find a way to feed everyone. I can’t bear to watch them suffer and die anymore. Not while rich, hypocritical bastards sit on their fat behinds with their fine ladies dripping in jewels worth a small fortune.”
“I know how you feel, Kat. But what can we do? You can’t be responsible for everyone in the whole village, not yet anyway. Maybe when Camray is yours again, you can do more to help.” John knew the compassion and love Rina had for the people in Tattershall, but what could a girl of nineteen years do? He understood as an Easton she felt it her duty to care for them and provide for them as best she could. His words fell on deaf ears and he tried again.
“Langsford is cruel and greedy, but we can’t do anything to stop him. We can’t take what we need or we’d be hung for stealing. There is nothing we can do, Kat.”
“That’s it,” she cried, her eyes widening at the simplicity of it. “That’s it, Johnny. We should start taking what we need to survive … like Robin Hood.” Rina paused, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She bit her lower lip in contemplation and considered her notion further.
John knew from the look in her eyes she was serious. “That’s crazy,” he protested. “They would hang us for sure.”
“Not if they didn’t know who we were. We could wear hoods; conceal our faces, like Langsford did. We could get a couple men from the village, ones we could fully trust, to form a band of highwaymen. All we steal, we will give to families in need. Wealthy people are always on the roads at night and they always have jewels and gold. They’d never expect it.”
“And what would you suggest we ride? You’re the only one with a fast horse. We’d need good weapons and saddles. Just how do you figure we’d get them?” he demanded.
Rina gave it some thought before she answered. “I have my sapphire-and-diamond jewelry. I could sell them for the funds we need to buy horses and weapons.”
r /> “No,” John objected firmly. “That’s all you have left, Kat. You can’t sell them. You would never be able to replace them — they mean so much to you.”
“My reason for selling them is much more important than my need to hold onto a memory. And I know my parents would understand, after all, they’re only jewels. I’ll always hold my parent’s love in my heart, with or without a memento of our last time together. I would have sold them long ago if Jake and Jenny hadn’t insisted I keep them. But I will not take no for an answer this time. Don’t you see, Johnny? I have to try. I can no longer sit back and do nothing while innocent people die because of one man’s insatiable greed and cruelty. This is one way we can fight back. Will you help me?” Rina pleaded, looking desperately into his eyes.
He shook his head slowly. When she looked at him like that, he could deny her nothing. “You know I will. Actually, it would be nice to see Langsford through the sight of my pistol, shaking in his boots.”
His statement made Kat smile again. “Well — I’d better go.”
They said their goodbyes and left plan-making for another day.
SUNDAY DAWNED GLORIOUS, BUT hot, especially in the rough woolen dress Rina wore. She wore her Sunday best winter and summer, but the woolen garment was warm and scratchy during the summer months, and too light in the bitter-cold winter. Father Murray’s sermon was long, and the small, cramped church stifled the parishioners. She found it difficult to concentrate on his words as his voice droned on. Her thoughts wandered to her secret swimming hole and the cool, clear water she longed to be in. Finally, Father Murray concluded, perhaps realizing the congregation grew restless. Outside in the church yard, he stopped to speak with Rina.
Angel in Black Page 2