Randolph’s lips tightened in anger, but she refused to answer. Blake knew she would not. Finally, the King himself answered in her stead. When Randolph went to place the gold band on her hand, she forced him to reach for it. He snatched up her hand and roughly forced the ring onto it. After the pronouncement they were now man and wife, the groom bent to kiss his bride and Katrina turned her head away, allowing only an awkward peck on the cheek. When the couple left the chapel, Randolph was red-faced with humiliation and fury.
Once out of sight of others, Randolph jerked Katrina around and grabbed her painfully. “You little bitch. I should beat you for the scene you caused.”
Katrina ignored his hurtful grasp and narrowed her eyes. “Lay one hand on me and you will never see tomorrow.”
The words came out in a vicious hiss, stunning Randolph. Katrina wrenched free and stormed off, leaving her new husband alone. Blake emerged from the church just in time to see Katrina disappear. He could tell by her angry walk and by the expression on Randolph’s face the groom had just learned what a hot-tempered vixen his bride was. Blake could not help but smile.
Katrina ran into the powder room, startling the young girls waiting to attend the needs of the ladies. They stared blankly when the bride slammed the door in anger — and for good measure kicked it. Katrina noticed their frightened expressions and felt contrite; sensing they feared her anger would be directed at them. Her own personal maid stood and crossed to her. Becky’s face did not reflect any alarm; they had gotten to know each other well over the past few weeks.
“Becky, I have this terrible need to break something,” Katrina said, fuming.
Picking up an empty pitcher, Becky handed it to her. “Here, try this, mum.”
Katrina grabbed it and hurled it against the wall, letting out a frustrated cry. All the girls’ eyes grew wider as the object shattered into hundreds of pieces. The violent act soothed Katrina and when she turned back around, laughter bordering on hysteria overtook her.
“Oh, dear,” she giggled, “I feel so silly, but it felt wonderful. I imagined it to be Langsford’s head.”
Nervous laughter erupted among all the women in the room. Katrina wet a cloth and soothed her warm brow, knowing she would have to go back to the reception and dinner. Smiling at Becky, Katrina removed the heavy gold band Randolph forced onto her finger only moments before.
“Here, Becky, this should make up for the extra work I’ve caused you. Split whatever you get with all the girls here. Buy yourselves something frivolous for a change.”
Becky stared down at the gold band, knowing it would bring more money than any of them would ever see at one time. She shook her head and objected, “Oh, mum, no. ’Tis your weddin’ band. You cannot give it away.”
Katrina shrugged her shoulders indifferently, “I don’t want it. If you don’t take it, I’ll just throw it away. I will never wear it. Never!”
With tears in her eyes, Becky nodded and slipped it into her pocket with a promise to share with the others. Katrina hugged her, “I think we had better clean up my mess, before someone else comes in.”
“Oh, no, milady — we will take care of it. You sit down an’ I’ll make sure everythin’s in place.”
Obeying her, Katrina sat and let Becky fuss with her hair. Just then, the door flew open and Catherine Ramsey flounced in, a nefarious smile on her face.
“So, there you are. You naughty girl, you certainly know how to cause trouble.” She crossed the room to Katrina and noticed the shattered pitcher. “Really, Rina, you must learn to control your temper. You may intimidate Randolph, but I assure you, Lawrence will not put up with it.”
Katrina stood, stiff with anger, yet she managed to bite back the snide remarks and ignored Catherine’s taunts. “My name is Katrina. Or Lady Easton, if you prefer.”
Raising an eyebrow at her foe, Catherine continued her taunts, determined to put Katrina in her place. “No matter, Lady Langsford. You are, afterall, Randolph’s wife now. I’ve heard he is the randy type, so I am sure he will keep you with child most of the time. Blake will no longer desire you when you’re fat with another man’s brat. Blake will be mine, in the end.”
Incensed at the woman’s words, Katrina stepped closer. “You had best watch your tongue, Lady Ramsey, my patience is worn thin and as I recall, you don’t like me angry.”
Catherine did not heed her warning and chattered on. “You have no right to Blake. He should be my lover, not yours, as it was before.”
“Before?”
“Surely he told you, dear. Blake asked me to marry him when we were younger, but my father had already consented to my marriage to Lord Ramsey. There was nothing I could do then, but now, nothing stands in our way. Nothing.”
Stunned, Katrina did not reply.
Catherine laughed; the sound harsh and cruel. “It’s funny how everything has worked out, and I doubt I could have planned it better. You’re at the mercy of Lawrence and Randolph, and, for some reason, I don’t believe you will last long in their care. It is a husband’s right to beat his wife; and today you have given him sufficient reason. I’ve been told he enjoys using a whip.”
Katrina’s endurance snapped, and if she had carried a knife like she usually did, she might have used it. Instead, she picked up a nearby pitcher full of water and threw it into Lady Ramsey’s face, soaking her thoroughly. Catherine screamed and turned to the mirror — her gown ruined, her hair drenched.
Calm now, Katrina returned the water pitcher to the table and said, “Blake Roberts will never be yours. He wouldn’t lower himself to sleep with a bitch like you, let alone marry you. Well, not now anyway.”
As Catherine sputtered in rage, Katrina left the room with a smile on her face. Just outside the door, Rebecca ran up to her. “I heard a scream. Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine, Rebecca. I am afraid I accidentally spilled water all over Lady Ramsey’s new gown and drenched her lovely hair. ’Tis a pity she won’t be able to attend the reception and dinner.” Katrina’s eyes sparkled mischievously and she tried to suppress a giggle. Rebecca looked at her friend and back to the closed door, behind which Catherine’s tantrum could still be heard.
Rebecca linked her arm through Katrina’s and said seriously, “Yes, what a pity.”
Together they burst out laughing and, in a strangely happy mood, returned to the dull, strained reception and dinner.
Randolph glowered at his wife when she came to stand by his side. Blake watched them, curious at the amused look on her face. When Randolph whispered hotly in her ear, Katrina smiled, and ignored him. Rebecca returned to Ryon and Blake; and after much probing, the men learned the reason for their mirth. David and John joined them to wait in the reception line, filing by the not-so-happily married couple.
David noticed everyone’s odd behavior and couldn’t help but ask, “What is so funny, Blake? I didn’t think I would find you smiling today.”
“It seems our little wildcat is up to mischief. I do believe she will succeed in making Randolph, and the King himself, regret making her marry against her wishes.”
Blake smiled, but his friends were aware of the angry flicker deep in his eyes. It was hard on all of them to stand by and do nothing. John also chuckled but it did not relieve his inner turmoil. “Yes, Kat does not like to have her life controlled, by King George or anyone. Nothing will stop her from making life miserable for Randolph and Lawrence. I’m afraid her outlandish behavior during the ceremony was only the beginning.”
Ryon nodded in agreement. “She dumped a pitcher of water on Catherine Ramsey’s head a few minutes ago. I would have given anything to see it.”
Their laughter prompted the other guests to stare curiously, and drew Katrina’s attention to her friends. Just as Ryon and Rebecca reached her, Randolph snatched her hand and demanded, “Where is your wedding ring, wife?”
Calm, she smiled at her husband, but Katrina’s eyes held no warmth, only a hardness that made him wince. “I threw
it away, husband.”
The words struck Randolph like a blow, and for a brief moment everyone tensed, thinking he would hit her. Katrina stood her ground, daring him to strike her in front of her friends. Lawrence paled at her audacity and nerve. It was apparent Randolph wanted to beat the smile from her face, but common sense stopped him. He feared the wrath of the men now surrounding him.
Unfazed, Katrina turned to Blake and smiled again, this time a devilish look sparkled in her eyes. “Perhaps this gentleman would like to kiss the bride?”
Blake knew she was treading in dangerous territory but could not resist her tempting lips. Yes, he was willing to die for one last kiss. Bold as brass, Katrina wrapped her arms around Blake’s neck as he pulled her to him. Randolph moved to stop her, but John side-stepped into his path.
Reluctant but resigned, Blake released Katrina. But before she let go whispered into his ear, “Wait for me tonight.”
He nodded and, without a word to Randolph, walked on. Randolph’s fury did not lessen as the evening progressed, but every time he glanced around, Blake and the others were there. During dinner, Randolph drank excessively of the fine wine, undoubtedly trying to drown his sorrows in drink. Finally, the huge clock reminded everyone of the lateness of the hour, and Randolph leaned close to his bride. His breath reeked of wine and his words came out slurred.
“You had best go upstairs and prepare for your wedding night, and remember, bitch, it is I who will come to your bed, not Blake Roberts.” He belched crudely, the pungent odor sour. “You shall regret the trouble you have caused this day.”
Randolph drained his goblet, unsteady, despite being seated in a chair. His eyes drooped and he yawned, open mouthed and rude. A satisfied smile crossed Katrina’s face and she whispered, “Never.”
Just as Randolph was about to force an explanation, Katrina stood and left the great hall with Rebecca following behind. Randolph brooded over her curious smile — looking like a cat that just caught a mouse. Damn the whore. He would make her pay tonight. Another great yawn overtook him.
When it came time for Randolph to go to his young bride, the men gaily followed. Their lewd taunts and jibes echoed in the hall, but by the time the groom reached his bedchamber only four escorts remained. When he glanced about him, he choked back his laughter when he found himself staring directly into Blake Roberts’ deadly gaze. The men accompanying him: Ryon, David, and John.
“W-what’s going on?” Randolph inquired weakly.
“Why, nothing,” explained Blake smoothly. “We’ve come to deliver you to your lovely bride, nothing else.”
Randolph swayed precariously and Blake slipped an arm about him to keep him from falling flat on his face. He opened the door and all but carried him inside. Katrina stood dressed in a gown and robe, surprisingly calm and in control. Randolph looked at her through heavy-lidded, bloodshot eyes.
“W-why aren’t you in … bed?” Wobbly, Randolph grabbed the bed post for support. He felt so tired. The wine — he had drunk too much wine. Perhaps if he just lay down for a moment. He stumbled to the side of the bed, sprawled onto it and passed out, forgetting about the men in his room, forgetting his bride who stood watching him with disgust.
“Good Lord,” David exclaimed. “He’s out cold.”
Blake looked at Katrina; saw a satisfied smile curling her lips. “What did you give him?”
“Just some powder to make sure he sleeps through the night.”
“What about tomorrow night, and the next?” Blake asked, concern edging his voice.
Katrina answered him honestly. “I don’t know. I am not sure of anything any longer. Oh, Blake, I can think only of the day at hand, leave the visions of tomorrow be. Let us think only of this moment — I want tonight to be ours.”
When the couple turned to leave Randolph’s chamber, they were alone. In silence, they walked to Blake’s room. Once inside, with the door bolted, Blake pulled her into his arms. “God, Katrina — I truly don’t know if I can bear the thought of losing you to another man. It seems we found something good between us. I cannot stand by and let it slip from my fingers. Come with me, we will go away.”
Katrina shook her head and pulled away. “Blake, I have told you, I cannot. Do you forget so quickly?”
“I have not forgotten, Katrina. I also remember all the lies — I’ll not believe you mean what you say now. I will take you away, willing or not.” Blake scooped her into his arms, his intention clear.
“No,” Katrina shouted. She twisted about frantic, hitting him as hard as she could. It did not faze him. “No, I cannot break my word.”
“Hell, woman — your word is not so damned important.” Blake yelled, angry again as he lowered her to her feet.
Katrina’s eyes widened; then narrowed. “Why? Because I am a woman? Does that mean my promises do not matter? If I were a man you could respect my wishes?” There was no answer. “You insult me — you insult my honor and pride. Do you respect me so little? For once, Blake Roberts, think of someone else’s needs besides your own? Do not slight me further by asking me to go with you again. I gave my word to the King and I will abide by his decision.”
Blake plainly read the hurt in her eyes and he asked, “What are your needs, Katrina? What is it you want? Do not tell me you wish to be married to Randolph, not in a million years will I believe this.”
“I will tell you the truth only if you promise to leave things alone; let me work out my problems on my own terms, without interference from you.”
He considered her request. He wanted more than anything to force her to go with him, but she would never forgive him if he did. Blake saw the grim determination on her face and gave in. “You have my promise not to interfere.”
Katrina knew how difficult it was for him to agree to her demand, but there was no other way. Not one she could consider, anyway.
“Oh, little one, what do you hope to achieve from this marriage?” The question came out sad and broken.
“Camray will belong to me, just as it belonged to my father and great-grandfather. I will not allow Langsford to be her master — Camray will be mine and only mine.”
“Is it so important?”
“Yes, it is,” Katrina’s eyes pleaded with Blake to understand. “It is more important than life itself.” She reached up and placed her palm against his cheek. “It is more important than my love for you. What I feel for you is a new and tender thing, whereas my need for Camray is old and established, woven firmly into my heart and soul. Camray must be mine, as it should be.”
Blake stood unable to speak. Had he heard her right? Katrina loved him. He cupped her face so he could look into her cobalt eyes; the honest, unmistakable truth before him. He closed his own eyes momentarily as if to spare himself the pain yet to come.
“What of Randolph? He is your husband.”
“He is nothing, Blake. I have done as the King commanded; he cannot demand I act as wife to this man. I give you my love, and only you will be my lover.”
“But tomorrow —” Blake could not finish.
Katrina smiled with warmth and loving. “Again, you worry of things yet to come. Blake, we have so little time together. Let us not waste it.”
He hugged her and whispered hoarsely, “If I were to lose you now, it would be more than I could bear.”
“You can never lose me, Blake. I am forever yours, death would not change this. My soul is yours, so guard it with care and love.” She reached down and pulled off her father’s ring and slipped it onto Blake’s finger. “This is the most precious thing I have. As long as you wear this ring, it will be a constant reminder of my love, especially when we are apart.”
Blake lifted Katrina into his arms and kissed her tenderly. When he looked into her eyes, all the love she spoke of was there. Blake carried her to the bed and laid her on it; removed her gown and robe.
Once his own clothes lay in a pile on the floor, he joined her, and together they shared pleasure only they could give one another.
In Katrina’s mind, Blake was her husband, and she his wife, their love binding them together in a way no ceremony could. As the sun crept into the heavens, Blake and Katrina slept, peaceful and content, with no worries of what this new day would bring.
Chapter Seventeen
THE MORNING DAWNED TO reveal gray clouds, brewing with menace over the city. But nothing affected Katrina’s happiness; not the news she would be leaving for Camray within the hour, not the forced company of her uncle and husband. A strange hope clung to Katrina, believing once she was home she would find a solution to her current situation. And, it helped knowing Blake would be nearby at Windsong.
Lawrence and Randolph waited for Katrina by the carriage; their attitudes impatient and stiff. Katrina started to step inside the plush conveyance but paused to look up into a window. Blake watched her, his face only a shadow to her eyes, but she did not need to see him to know the sadness etched on it. She raised her hand to her lips and blew her love a kiss good-bye, caring not if the gesture angered the two men who stood next to her. Randolph shoved her inside the coach and crawled in, his fury apparent on his ruddy face. Once Lawrence settled comfortably across from them, he banged on the ceiling and the coach lurched forward, headed for home, for Camray.
Katrina chose to ignore her companions and remained silent, but Randolph did not. “You are a stupid bitch and will pay dearly for last night.”
She looked at him amused and knew her smile incensed him further. “I trust you slept well?”
Lawrence’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment, as he realized the servants’ gossip was true. Humiliated, Randolph’s face flushed to a darker shade of red and he slapped Katrina across the face, leaving a stinging imprint of his hand on her cheek. He expected her to crumple into tears from the hard blow and was stunned when she did not. Calm, dry eyes filled with hate met his and he suddenly recalled her earlier threat. Her look told him he just made the mistake he would regret.
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