Katrina paused and turned to look directly into his light blue eyes. “I’ll fight you, Walker. I’ll fight you every step of the way. Death strikes no fear in me, so I’ll stop at nothing to be free of you. I will not be sold.”
Grant stared at her, unable to say anything. He felt anger, passion, and admiration before he turned and climbed the ladder. Never before had he wanted a woman as much as he wanted Katrina, but he knew she would fight him, and the thought of rape left a foul taste in his mouth. He would never know her passion and he would never be able to bring himself to sell her either. What the hell was he to do? These thoughts weighed heavy on his mind as he made his way to his cabin.
KATRINA’S TWISTED ANKLE WAS sore, but it didn’t take long for the pain to disappear completely. During the third week at sea she began experiencing periods of weakness and vomiting. Mornings were a miserable time for her, and soon the greasy stew refused to stay down at all. Katrina could not understand why she would be seasick after weeks at sea. For the next two and a half weeks, she ate only bread and water. Li gave her share of bread to Katrina but she continued to lose weight. She refused to let Li tell Walker of her illness, and let him think her anger kept her below, not wanting to risk an encounter.
The weather had been calm so far in their journey, but five weeks out the ship ran into a squall and lasted three long days. Katrina knew only misery. In her weakened state, with her stomach so uneasy, the storm kept her bedridden. She never knew it possible to throw up so much, and after being slammed against the hard crates they slept on, she felt as if she had been beaten. It was cold and wet in their hole, the small ship tossed about like a leaf in the wind, Li fearing they would be swallowed by the sea. Lightning streaked through the black night and thunder deafened them as they huddled together, shivering, nerves raw and hope gone.
Li clung to Katrina, trying to keep her from being tossed onto the floor. She prayed to every God she knew of, hoping one would be merciful and hear her. Katrina had a fever now, and Li feared for her friend as she watched her toss and turn fitfully on the straw mat. What little sleep Katrina got was filled with terrifying dreams, nightmares that left her trembling with fear. Awake, Katrina tried to be strong and unafraid, but as fevered sleep overtook her, all the horrifying memories she struggled to forget claimed her weakened mind.
In the middle of the third day, the storm ceased its violent attack and left the ship in one piece. A calming rain, warm and sweet, continued to fall, filling the barrels with fresh water. Katrina stirred when the ladder was lowered into their hole and Captain Walker climbed down. The two women huddled on their bed at the back of the hold, and he lifted a lantern to see into the darkness. When his gaze fell upon Katrina, all the color drained from his face.
He sloshed through the six inches of water leaked into the hold, despite the tarp covering the grating. The room smelled of sickness and both women were covered with grime. Panic seized Grant when he lifted Katrina into his arms as gently as he could. He noticed the grayish color of her skin and matted, dirty hair. Dark crescents marred her eyes, and when they fluttered opened, he saw no sparkle, only pain. Bruises covered her pale skin, and he tried not to hurt her as he carried her to the ladder.
Angry, he glared at Li and murmured, “Why have I not been told of this? How long has she been ill?”
Li’s own worried eyes met his, but it was Katrina who weakly answered, “No one has bothered with us for three days, so stop your barking.”
Grant ignored her remark and climbed the ladder. He carried her to his own cabin with Li following and laid her onto his bunk. He spoke to Li again. “She couldn’t have gotten this bad in three days.”
Li looked timidly at her feet, fidgeting with her hands, nervous and afraid.
“Well?” Grant asked, much more patiently than he felt, but he saw her fear.
“Leave her be, Walker. I’ve been feeling sick for three weeks now, seasickness, I guess. This storm made me worse.” Katrina struggled to sit, and started to get up.
“Stay there,” he ordered gruffly. “You look like you’re already dead and you smell worse.”
She felt sick enough to die, but Katrina’s temper flared none-the-less. “Well, if you would provide decent food, instead of the disgusting grease you call stew I wouldn’t have gotten so weak the storm bothered me. As far as my personal hygiene is concerned, you would smell, too, if you had been stuck in a hole for six weeks, in a brig unfit for a pig to live in.”
Weak but determined, Katrina stood on her trembling legs and hobbled toward the door. Grant blocked her way in an instant, his manner unyielding. “Li go to the cook and get some decent food. And order some water heated for a bath.”
After Li scurried out to do as he bid, Grant picked Katrina up and carried her back to the bed, this time dumping her carelessly on it. He instantly felt contrite when she grimaced and he saw her biting her lip to keep from moaning out loud.
“Take off your clothes,” he demanded.
Katrina looked shocked and only stared at him.
“As lovely as you are, Katrina, at this moment you evoke no desire in me. You cannot bathe with your clothes on; besides, they should be burned.”
“I have nothing else. Those two bastards left me only this chemise and slip,” Katrina blurted out in alarm.
“Well, they need to be washed. Here,” he said, tossing her a blanket, “wrap up in this.”
Dizzy and weak, Katrina submitted and peeled the filthy clothes off her. It didn’t matter Walker watched her every move. A bath — God, it had been so long.
In no time, a tub was set up and filled. A feast was brought in and they ate their fill, and for the first time in weeks, the meal stayed in Katrina’s stomach. Already, she felt better.
Li insisted on tending Katrina and washed her hair. The hot water soaked away the grime and filth and eased Katrina’s pain. Once Li tucked her comfortably into bed, Li took a turn and bathed herself. They slept a couple hours in the captain’s big bed, and ate again. Katrina felt better by the minute, her strength returning quickly. That night she slept sound, no dreams disturbed her.
She awoke with color in her cheeks and without being sick to her stomach, feeling only a gnawing hunger soon satisfied. Li and Katrina washed again, putting their clean clothes on, giggling and feeling like young girls as they delighted in the simple things.
Katrina was still a little weak but could not believe how fast she recovered from her seasickness. They spent the day eating and sleeping and took a walk before dusk, enjoying the fresh air and exercise. With another good night’s sleep, Katrina awoke with her old sparkle and spirit. Li worried over her like a mother, concerned with the warmness of her skin. Katrina shrugged it off, just as she dismissed the nausea she still experienced. It soon passed, and she nibbled a piece of bread as Li brushed her hair.
“Captain Walker has certainly been generous, allowing us to stay in his own cabin.” Li said; her voice soft and appreciative.
Katrina smiled. “He didn’t want his valuable merchandise dying on him. I suppose we cost him a lot of money, and we will make him a great deal in Mexico.”
“No,” Li disagreed quietly. “It was more than fear of losing money. He cares for you.”
This time Katrina laughed outright. “Don’t be silly, Li. There is no telling the number of women he has sold before us, why should it be different for us?”
“Not us … you,” said Li matter-of-factly.
Shaking her head, Katrina stood. “You’re imagining things.”
A sudden flurry of noise made Katrina cock her head and listen. The ship had come alive; men scurried across the decks and yelled out orders in excited voices. She tried the latch, and was not truly surprised to find the door locked. She listened, anxious to learn the reason for the commotion on deck. Within minutes, an explosion sounded and a cannonball slammed into the ship. Katrina ran to the small porthole and spotted another ship bearing down on theirs with speed, its cannons blasting. Wood splinter
ed around them and Li screamed, running to Katrina’s side, fear etched on her face.
“It seems we are being attacked.” Katrina’s voice was calm, despite the sudden turmoil about them. “Don’t worry, Li, there is nothing we can do but wait.”
Katrina continued to talk to her, but it was difficult to ignore the ensuing battle, the screams of the men as they were struck down. They smelled smoke where the red-hot cannonballs struck the ship, burned and demolished in their wake. Within minutes, the other ship drew alongside, the scraping of the wooden timbers deafening. The sounds of men boarding was immediately followed by the clamor of hand-to-hand combat.
The door crashed open and Willy filled the doorway, a blood-stained sword in his hand. Li screamed and a chill swept through Katrina at the vision standing before them. Wild eyes glazed and unnatural stared at them, sweat dripping from his flushed face. His shirt was covered with blood, whether his own or another’s, she couldn’t tell. Katrina moved to stand in front of Li as he closed the space between them in three long-legged strides.
“What do you want, Willy?” Katrina asked. Wary, she watched him while she searched for something to use as a weapon.
Willy waved the bloody blade in the air with ominous threat and sneered. “You know damn well what I want, you bitch.” He looked at Li and screamed, “Get out!”
Confused and afraid, Li looked to Katrina, who nodded and gave her a shove toward the door. “Go on.”
Seeing her hesitation, Katrina repeated, more firmly this time, “Go.”
Li ran past Willy and out the door. He slammed it closed and locked it; threw the key across the room, where it disappeared beneath a chest.
Katrina faced the deadly sword and the deadlier man wielding it. “So, you’re using swords now to subdue women. Are you not man enough to take me unarmed?”
The derisive sneer in her voice hit its mark, and he tossed the weapon aside. “I need no help, witch.”
Willy leaped at Katrina and managed to grab only a handful of hair when she dodged him. His cruel yank pulled her to the floor at his feet and he wound the length around his hand. His knee held her down and he forced her head back at a painful angle. With his free hand, he ripped his blood-soaked shirt off, loosened his pants to free the hardness within. He moved on top of Katrina, yanking her petticoat up to bare her hips. Willy’s lips came down hard on hers, bruising and demanding as he tore her chemise to bare a tender breast to his roaming fingers.
When his tongue probed her mouth, she bit it, nearly gagging when she tasted blood in her mouth. Willy pulled back and bellowed in pain. Katrina seized a bottle lying nearby and smashed it against the side of his head. She shoved with all her might to throw him off her and scrambled to her feet. Willy was quick and snatched her ankle, stopping her, pulling her down on top of him.
He had a wildcat on his hands as Katrina scratched and bit, her fists smashed painfully into his face and stomach. Rolling, Willy managed to land on top again and struck Katrina hard across the face. The blow might have crumpled most women, but it barely dazed her as desperation gave her amazing strength and stamina.
Neither of the two people struggling on the floor heard the door crash in. Willy was lifted off Katrina and thrown across the room. She looked up at Grant Walker, his face a mask of pure rage.
“Get out of here — I’ll take care of that bastard!”
Katrina had no desire to argue and fled. Li waited outside the cabin and the two women made their way to the deck. The sight before them caused Li to blanch, sickened by the scene of violence and death. Smoke filled the air, hanging heavy around them as it mixed with the acrid smell of gunpowder and blood. All about them men fought to protect their ship, or to take it over — it was hard to distinguish one from the other. Katrina knew if they were to escape, it would have to be now, most likely there would be no chance later.
Chapter Twenty
REBECCA FELT PROUD AS she stood between Ryon and Blake. She ignored the curious stares and gossip exchanged from one to another. Two weeks had passed since Blake returned home with his arm bleeding and no explanation offered. The only thing Rebecca cared about was his excessive drinking stopped and he appeared to have come to terms with his overwhelming grief.
Dressed soberly in black, Blake stood out from all the other men who dressed more colorfully. Rebecca witnessed the envious eyes of the women as two of London’s handsomest and richest men walked into the ballroom. She also noticed when Catherine Ramsey spotted Blake, her green eyes narrowed and her lips curved into a nefarious smile. From the look Rebecca witnessed, she was certain it would not be a pleasant encounter.
So, thought Catherine to herself, with that little bitch out of the way, he’s all mine. She excused herself from the two men who bored her and made her way to Blake Roberts. By the time she reached him, Lieutenant Greerson had joined them.
“Blake, darling,” Catherine cooed. “It is so nice to see you. Whatever has kept you away so long?”
Blake flashed a smile, and Catherine felt her pulse quicken. Taking heart, she pressed on.
“I have saved the first dance for you.” Catherine fanned her eyelashes shyly, her head tilted slightly to show off her flawless features.
For the moment, Blake found her game amusing. This sudden shyness was so unlike her he had to still the urge to laugh outright, but he bowed with grace and elegance, mostly to hide the smile threatening to give him away. When he managed to look at Catherine again, he had control of his emotions.
“I would be honored to have this dance, Lady Ramsey.” Blake’s voice was smooth, melodious. Only those who stood close to him noticed his slight slurring of the word lady.
In her moment of victorious joy, Catherine did not catch the underlying contempt; in fact she found him to be most agreeable tonight. As Blake whirled her onto the dance floor, she bestowed on him what she considered to be her most becoming smile. She leaned closer, giving him a full view of her ample, creamy breasts, and allowed them to rub enticingly against his chest.
“You have been ignoring me terribly, Blake,” pouted Catherine.
Blake’s golden eyes remained unreadable, his voice guarded. “Have I?”
Biting her lip in annoyance at his lack of concern, she continued, “Yes, you have, but I forgive you, darling. We have all the time in the world now.”
Blake stiffened, but Catherine took it as a good thing and went on. “I could use a breath of fresh air, Blake. Don’t you find it stifling in here?”
Tired of her maneuvering, he guided her toward the balcony doors and out into the night’s fresh air. He saw Catherine watched him from under lowered lashes and waited for him to say or do something. Impatient at his silence, she grew bolder.
The changes in her features and the knowing look in her emerald eyes warned him. She was up to something, and Blake remained patient so he could find out what. Catherine pressed against him intimately and ran a long, tapered finger along his jaw line. She noticed the twitch where she touched him and moved closer, obviously thinking it pent-up desire and not the loathing he experienced.
Blake felt only repulsion for the woman and it took every bit of control he had not to throw her from him in disgust. She stood on her toes and pressed her lips against his, her mouth parted and eager.
Catherine slowly realized Blake did not respond to her kiss. This hit her hard, like a slap across the face causing her to step back. Color flooded her cheeks, reaching clear down to her breasts and her eyes narrowed in anger. But Blake only cocked an eyebrow in amusement.
She raised her hand to strike Blake’s arrogant face. With ease, he caught it causing her to gasp in pain. “B-Blake … you’re hurting me,” whined Catherine, her fury tinged by fear.
“Have you no pride or shame, Catherine?”
His question surprised her, and she retorted, her voice loud and grating, “What do you mean?”
A sneer crossed Blake’s lips, and he dropped her hand, his distaste apparent. “You know what I mean. I h
ave made it abundantly clear I have no wish to bed you, and yet you persist in throwing yourself at me, like a bitch in heat. I know what kind of woman you are, and there is no passion to blind me to the facts. Give up, Catherine. You will never have my money. You had better find some other fool to take you to his bed; it will not be me.”
His words stung her, hurting her despite her cold heart. Tears sprang to her eyes, not from pain but from anger he knew her so well. “You loved me once, long ago.”
“And I was young and foolish. I have always been grateful you were cruel enough to deny my proposal, and greedy enough to go after another poor soul.”
“But I love you, Blake,” she cried, desperate to hold on to him any way she could. Blake Roberts could give her everything she wanted in life; she would not give in.
“You love only yourself and money. You have no idea what love really is.” He pulled her clinging arms off him and started to leave.
“And I suppose you know what love is?” she snapped, the waspish side now emerging. “Did you love that little bitch, your peasant wench Rina?” When he stopped abruptly, Catherine knew she hit a tender spot and recklessly pressed on. “Is that why you tried to drown yourself in drink?” Her laughter filled the air, bringing a deadly look to Blake’s face. “You mean the infamous Lord Roberts felt more than lust for a woman? You are a fool, Blake; she was nothing but a whore, and you couldn’t see it.”
In two long strides, Blake stood in front of Catherine and his hands grasped her shoulders painfully. “What do you mean, witch?” Blake shook her hard, but she was blind to his rage. Determined to destroy his saintly image of Katrina, Catherine lied, for it was her fault Blake did not want her.
“She was a whore — plain and simple. Everyone knew it but you. Why do you think the King married her off so quickly? While you were away, she slept with everyone at court, even your good friends and dear brother. I heard she had a taste for men in uniform — especially a certain lieutenant. She should have died that day in the forest. Lawrence and Randolph were foolish to let her get away.”
Angel in Black Page 26