Angel in Black

by Fela Dawson Scott

  Blake fought hard to control the jealousy, but his voice came out strained. “The big blond fellow?”

  Katrina nodded. “Yes, he has my eternal love.” She saw the hurt on Blake’s face and continued. “Blake, in truth he is no kin, but in my heart, Johnny is my brother and I am his sister. Our love is as strong as any bond of blood and nothing can break it or destroy it. Please understand; he will always have a special place in my life, for he is the brother I never had.”

  “To John then,” David said.

  Katrina started to speak but heard her name called. She froze when her uncle, Lawrence Langsford, and Randolph, his ever-present shadow, approached. For a brief instant, she was reminded of the devil and one of his disciples.

  “Katrina? Is it really you?” cried Lawrence in mock surprise, his arms reaching out to her.

  Katrina stepped away before he could hug her, unable to bear his touch. Perhaps taken aback by the unbridled hatred in her eyes, she saw him take a deep breath before he continued. “It is a miracle to find you alive, dear niece, after all these years.”

  Lawrence’s voice gushed with false sympathy, but Katrina saw the evil flicker deep in his dark eyes. “I trust you have recovered from the terrible fall you took?”

  “Yes,” Katrina said her voice emotionless and flat. “Isn’t it ironic those two bastards who meant to rape me actually did me a favor?” She watched his reaction carefully.

  “In what way, Katrina?”

  “Had they not been chasing me, I wouldn’t have hit my head and recovered my memory. It seems I owe them a great deal.”

  With a casual air, she glanced from one Langsford to the other; her look telling them for now, what happened would remain between them.

  Wary of her hidden agenda, Lawrence cleared his throat, uncomfortable beneath her gaze. He glanced warily at Blake and the lieutenant. “Katrina, there is much we need to discuss … alone. I plan to stop by soon to see you. It will give us the chance to get to know one another better. Perhaps clear up some minor details concerning Camray. When would be best for you, my dear?”

  Katrina’s expression never changed and her voice maintained an even, clear tone. “We have nothing at all to discuss, Langsford; I have no wish to ever see you again. Furthermore, I am not your dear, nor your niece any longer, and you would be wise never to call me so again.”

  Ignoring the gasps of surprise at her rudeness, she turned away. She did not need to see the flicker of anger in Lawrence’s eyes to know he was fuming. With a sweet smile, she ignored the Langsfords and lifted her hand to Blake. “I believe this dance is yours.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  THE STREETS WERE DARK and empty, most people seeking the safety and warmth of their homes as the storm continued to release its fury. A downpour battered the lone rider, and the wind tore about him, whipping the rain into his face. He made his way to the inn just ahead and stopped in front of its sign swinging precariously on its hinges. Stiff and tired, Blake slid from his horse and handed the reins to a young stable boy who appeared from nowhere. He gave him instructions and coin before stepping inside.

  A cold gust of wind and rain blew into the room, causing everyone to turn to see who dared disturb them, but disgruntled words froze in their throats as they were quick to surmise the stranger’s large, muscular frame and black look.

  Blake ignored them all, with the exception of the innkeeper who hurried to do Blake’s bidding. He followed the slight man to a small but comfortable room and waited while he stoked the fire and left. Blake shucked his wet things, glad to be rid of them. He stretched out on the bed, wishing he was in London and not stuck on the coast of France waiting for a storm to pass.

  God, he was tired. Blake closed his eyes and again wondered why Ryon sent him a message telling him to return home. Had something happened to Katrina? No, it couldn’t be, he trusted she was safe with his family. His beautiful Katrina — he missed her more than he’d ever care to admit.

  He had been gone for a whole damn month. Blake hadn’t wanted to take this trip at all, but when he received word his chief manager in Constantinople had died, he had no choice but to go. The man had managed all of Blake’s business in the city — shipping and trade companies, warehouses filled with merchandise, land and properties and other smaller enterprises. The Roberts’ empire had interests in Turkey, the largest trading center between Europe and Asia. It was imperative he select a new manager as quickly as possible.

  Blake made certain the deceased’s widow and family were well provided for and it took some time to find someone capable to fill the former manager’s position. Once he had, he felt confident he had done well in choosing a replacement and made plans to return home. But he received his brother’s brief, cryptic message and left immediately, taking the next ship available. Just off the coast of Spain, a spring storm forced his ship to seek safe harbor.

  Hoping to cover some distance by land, Blake bought a horse and traveled north, but the weather grew worse. So here he waited in a small village in France, his mind filled with worry as he tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong. Why hadn’t Ryon explained in the message? What could possibly be so urgent? He thought of Katrina and his tension eased.

  They had shared a wonderful few weeks following the ball. He’d sent for Jake, Jenny, and John to surprise Katrina — he had never seen her so happy. He devoted the whole time to her and, with a conscious effort, got to know John better. Though Blake grew to like the young man, he still envied the love and devotion shared between them.

  And in the privacy of Blake’s rooms, he and Katrina made love as often as they could. Never before had Blake experienced so great a hunger for one woman. The more he was with her, the more he wanted her. He knew he would never tire of her. With this thought Blake fell asleep, his dreams gentle and arousing as Katrina filled his unconscious mind.

  ONE DAY CREPT INTO two, two into three, and Blake waited with growing impatience for the storm to pass. His mood grew as black as the storm clouds, worry eating at him, leaving him exhausted and worn.

  Finally, he was on his way home — home to Katrina. When he neared London, dread filled him. By the time he reached his townhouse, panic seized him unequivocally. Blake held his breath in the parlor, waiting anxiously for Ryon to explain why he had sent for him.

  “Good Lord, Blake. What took so long? I feared you weren’t going to get here in time.” Ryon paced, looking nervous and agitated.

  “I’ve no control over the weather,” Blake snapped. “In time for what, Ryon? Where’s Katrina? I want to see her,” he demanded, his fear mounting from Ryon’s uneasy manner.

  Ryon stopped and faced Blake, sympathy clear in his expression. “She is not here, Blake. She will not be back.”

  Anger and fear filled Blake. His voice emerged hoarse and strained. “What do you mean, she won’t be back? Where the hell is she?”

  “Katrina is at the palace, by the King’s demand. She is to be married … this afternoon.” Ryon studied his brother, alarmed by the pinched, drawn look on his face and dark patches beneath his eyes. “Blake, it was the King’s decision — she will marry Randolph Langsford today. I sent for you weeks ago, as soon as we heard the news.”

  “That’s absurd,” Blake cried. “Randolph is Katrina’s first cousin.”

  Ryon shook his head. “No, he isn’t. Randolph is actually Lawrence’s nephew by a half-sister, not his son. There is no blood relation whatsoever between Katrina and Randolph.”

  “How? How could this happen?” asked Blake, shocked and weary. He slumped into a nearby chair. “Tell me everything, Ryon.”

  “The King sent for Katrina a few days after you left. He had decided what to do about her claim to Camray. I went with her — I thought she might need the support. You and I both knew how much influence Langsford has gained over the years with those at court and with the King himself. King George couldn’t take lands for Katrina without alarming other noblemen. They would wonder at the King’s stripping a ma
n of his title and lands only to give them to a woman, even if she was a legitimate heir. But I never thought he would marry her off to Randolph; certainly Katrina didn’t. But it solves the King’s problem — they remain at Camray, but Katrina is also Camray’s rightful mistress.”

  “Katrina,” mumbled Blake. “How did she take the news?”

  Ryon cleared his throat.“When the King told her his decision she paled to a ghostly white. She only stared, unable to speak. I thought she was going to faint when she started to tremble violently, but instead, she stood and walked from the room without saying a word to the King. She said nothing during the ride home, and, once here, went straight to her room. When she finally came downstairs, Katrina told us she did not wish to speak of the matter. What must be done would be done.”

  Blake stood; a determined look on his face. “I must see her. I cannot let this happen, Ryon. I will not.”

  Ryon reached out to stop Blake when he started for the door. “There’s nothing you can do — the ceremony will begin soon. Stop and think, Blake. Don’t allow your anger to rule you.”

  Blake pushed his brother’s hands off him, a hard gleam deep in his gold eyes. “I will see her, Ryon. No one can stop me.”

  KATRINA HEARD THE CHIME of the small clock sitting on her dressing table and frowned at being reminded of the hour. Soon she would be married. The thought made her skin crawl. She closed her eyes, tried to think of other things; something more pleasant, something less dreadful than wedding Randolph Langsford.

  “Oh, Blake, where are you?” whispered Katrina.

  “I am here, little one.”

  Katrina whirled about to see Blake standing in her room and, for a brief second, she wondered if he were merely a vision of her longings. Her doubt disappeared when he gathered her into his arms, crushing her to him, despair and longing in his voice.

  “Bloody hell woman — what trouble have you gotten into while I was gone?”

  Katrina pulled away from him. “I had no say in the matter, Blake. It was the King’s decision, not mine. Surely you understand it is not of my choosing.”

  Blake ran his hand through his tousled hair in frustration. “Surely, you understand you cannot marry him, Katrina.”

  “I have no choice.”

  “Yes you do,” Blake said, pain showing on his face. “Come with me, little one. We shall go away — we will be together, just you and I. As it should be; as I long it to be.”

  She placed her hand on his cheek, the stubble of his unshaven beard telling her of his ordeal to get to her in time. Katrina tried to suppress her joy from his show of devotion, but she knew what he asked of her was impossible. “I cannot, Blake. I gave my word to the King I would abide by his decision … and no matter how it displeases me I must stand by my promise.”

  Anger slipped easily into Blake’s numbed mind, overpowering all reason and caution. “Don’t argue with me, woman. I’ll not let you marry Randolph. You are mine — the King will not take what I have claimed as my own.”

  “Damn you,” Katrina countered with her own temper rising. “Damn you. I belong to no one, Blake Roberts. Do you understand? I belong to no one.”

  “Do you wish to marry him?” Blake asked, his tone quiet, belied by the fury in his eyes.

  “I wish to do the honorable thing. I wish to keep my word.” Her words came out tired and strained.

  Blake’s mind snapped. “To hell with your promises, Katrina, I’ll not give in to your bloody principles. Not this time.”

  “You must not interfere,” Katrina exclaimed in exasperation. How could she convince him? She remembered the hours of heated argument with John. The fools — did they think it so damned easy to defy their King? Jake’s curses and Jenny’s endless tears — Katrina wanted to scream. She had her own fears; how was she to deal with everyone else’s as well? She drew a deep, calming breath and set her mind to the ugly task at hand.

  “Blake, you must listen to reason,” she begged, trying to reach him through the hostility and rage.

  “Reason,” he bellowed. “I’ll not stand by and let you marry that swaggering fop. Run away with me — for God’s sake, let me take care of you!”

  “You are a fool,” Katrina spat. “Do not expect me to follow suit.”

  Her cruel words brought a hardened stare from Blake, his jaw flexed and he asked. “What do you mean, a fool?”

  Katrina flinched at the cold tone of his words, but knew what she must do. She could not allow Blake to endanger himself by defying the King.

  “Yes, a fool, Blake Roberts. You expect me to go away with you and mark myself a traitor. You ask me to leave my home and friends forever. I would never see my Camray and you know it means everything to me. I could not leave Jake and Jenny, and what of my dearest Johnny? And all the good people of Tattershall? If I was willing to go to the gallows to help them, I certainly can marry for them. What do you offer that is worth giving up everything I hold dear for?”

  Hurt registered in Blake’s eyes, “We would be together, little one, as it should be.”

  “What? Are you offering marriage, Blake?” Her blunt question caught him off guard, leaving him speechless. “Just as I thought, you will never offer me marriage, and Randolph has. You are a fool. Do not ask me to go away with you — I’ve no taste for fools.”

  Katrina’s heart broke — her own torture and pain greater than that she inflicted. She wanted more than anything to beg his forgiveness, but she could not. Her word had been given, and no matter how distasteful this marriage was to her, she would wed Randolph. Lawrence and Randolph Langsford would be dealt with in due time, on her own, in her own way.

  “You lie. I can see the lies you tell me — your eyes betray you.”

  “No, Blake,” she replied evenly, “it is the truth.”

  “No — you’re lying,” Blake rejected, hurt overwhelming him. “The lies come so easily, don’t they? As long as they achieve whatever it is you are after.”

  Blake could not believe her ugly words, not after the love and happiness they had come to share. To believe their vile intent would destroy him. “Well … the lies so easily spilling from you have accomplished one thing, I hope it is what you meant to achieve, little one. You will have it as you wish; I’ll not play your fool any longer, I’ll not interfere with the marriage.”

  Frustrated and angry, Blake walked away from Katrina, missing the look of relief that overcame her face — missing the look of pain in her eyes. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done, to let him leave when her heart wanted him to stay.

  BLAKE STOOD NEXT TO Ryon and Rebecca, waiting for the ceremony to be over, unaware of anything but his own anguish. He heard none of the whispered gossip and saw none of the curious glances; he only waited. When at last Randolph Langsford appeared, his father close behind, Blake stood perfectly still; only his eyes betrayed the hot anger boiling within him.

  As Randolph looked over the crowd, he met the hostile amber eyes. They locked with his in silent combat. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and an uneasy fear he seldom felt pricked his mind. Lord Roberts’ expertise with pistol and sword was common knowledge and renowned. He prayed never to have to fight this menacing man, for Randolph was not so naive as to believe he would stand a chance against his power and skill.

  Lawrence Langsford witnessed Blake’s threatening stare, but smiled, calm and unconcerned. After tomorrow, Katrina Easton would no longer be a threat to either of them, and Camray would continue to be his — and his only.

  Suddenly, the music changed and everyone turned to see the bride enter. Blake’s heart jumped at the sight of Katrina, walking down the long aisle on the King’s arm. Never had she looked more beautiful. She wore an extravagant gown of creamy satin and lace, a long train trailing behind in delicate folds of fabric. Hundreds of tiny pearls adorned the gown, with strands carefully styled into her golden hair. A necklace of the same pearls covered her throat and dangled from her ears.

  When she passed by,
Blake saw her lovely face showed no emotion. It remained blank and her sapphire eyes stared ahead, nothing in their depths. Blake’s mind screamed at him and strained his already taunt nerves to the point of breaking. Katrina deserved better than this. Why hadn’t he married her long ago?

  Numb, Katrina walked to the altar. She willed her mind to emptiness, forced the overwhelming sense of loneliness to recede into a dark corner. She looked at no one, but when she neared the front where Blake stood, she felt his presence and turned to meet his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat at the agony etched on his face. She felt the blood leave her face and she stumbled. If it had not been for the King’s strong arm, she would have fallen.

  Blake started to reach out for her, the sudden paleness of her skin making him believe she might faint, but Ryon held him back. Briefly, Katrina’s face revealed her fear and her lower lip trembled. He remembered seeing the same terror and vulnerability only in the wake of one of her nightmares. As quickly as her weakness was revealed, it disappeared and Katrina held up her head in defiance, sheer determination giving her strength.

  Dear God, thought Katrina as she made the last few steps, what am I to do? The man I love can only stand by and do nothing. Because I am a woman, I am unable to determine my own destiny — the King can use me as a pawn in a game of power and prestige.

  Katrina stepped up to the altar and took her place beside Randolph. Her spirit returned. No, she decided, she would not be beaten by these bastards. She would find a way out. The King could not control her mind. She chose to give her love to Blake Roberts, and no other man would claim it, no matter whom she found herself bound to by law.

  Unflinching, she met Randolph’s eyes, her gaze steady and calm. All her fear vanished and the hatred she survived on for so long pushed forward to provide the momentum she needed to get through this day.

  The ceremony dragged on but Blake’s eyes never left Katrina. His thoughts kept the words the couple exchanged from entering his mind, but slowly, the uneasy silence descended upon the chapel made him aware something was wrong. Everyone waited for Katrina, for her to say I do, but she said nothing. The Bishop repeated the question, now nervous and stammering. Still, Katrina remained silent.