“May God be with you, lass,” muttered Maggie as she and Rita put their arms about Jenny to support her as she wept for her girl.
Katrina experienced a twinge of guilt for not explaining the whole truth to her friend, a woman who had been like a mother to her. But it was best Jenny not know she wanted Langsford to follow her. No, Jenny would not have allowed her to go if she knew her plan was to lure him to his death.
Turning for one last glimpse of the village, Katrina mumbled to herself, “Take care and forgive me.”
Katrina nudged Blackstar and he galloped into the dense forest. Her black clothing blended with his dark coat and together they melted into the darkness around them.
Chapter Twenty-seven
THE CLOUDS ROLLED IN, dark and ominous, making the day gloomy and dreary, much like Blake’s mood. He and David had ridden hard all day and reached the village just as the muted sun was setting. Blake slid from Hera and looked up at the sky, the first drops of rain falling onto his face.
He went to the door and pounded loudly on it until Jenny opened it, her tear-stained face frightened. This time it was too much for the old woman and she fainted dead away. Blake caught her as she withered to the floor. Jake looked around, confused, a white bandage wrapped securely about his head. Relief showed in his eyes when he greeted Lord Roberts and Lieutenant Greerson.
“I did not think you would be here so soon, lieutenant. We just sent someone t’ get you early this mornin’.”
Blake dragged Jenny’s heavy, lifeless form to a chair and tried to revive her. He questioned Jake, his voice strained with worry. “Why did you send for the lieutenant, Jake? Where is Katrina?”
The distraught look on the old man’s face panicked Blake and he left Jenny to roughly grab her husband by the shoulders. “Where is she, Jake? Is she all right?”
Jenny recovered and pleaded with him. “Lord Roberts. Please. Please let him go.”
Realizing what he was doing, Blake stopped and forced himself to take a step back and remain calm. Lieutenant Greerson took over. “I would suggest we all sit down and allow them to explain what has happened.”
Slowly, the whole story came out and Blake continued to sit perfectly still, staring into the fire, his face shadowed in the candlelight.
“It were late this afternoon when Lawrence Langsford came here. He was insane with fury an’ threatened t’ kill us all if we did not give him Katrina. She was right, yes she was. He accused her of murderin’ Randolph,” sniffled Jenny, dabbing at her reddened, puffy eyes. “Oh, lieutenant, if you had seen how that fiend of a husband beat her, you would not be thinkin’ it murder. They were goin’ t’ kill her. You must believe me — she has good reason t’ fear the man.”
David patted Jenny’s hand in a comforting gesture and smiled. “I believe you and I know the complete story about Lawrence Langsford and why he wants her dead. Katrina had no need to fear accusations of murder.”
“Oh, dear,” wailed Jenny, “I should not have let her go. Now the devil’s gone after my girl an’ she’s all alone.”
Blake finally spoke, “It’s what she wanted.” Everyone looked at him, not understanding.
“Katrina knew Langsford would follow her to the ends of the earth to find her — that’s exactly what she wants him to do. She is leading him away, and when she is ready, Katrina will try and kill him. He may have surprised her this morning, but she has turned his advantage into her own.”
“It seems we’ve been two blunderin’ ol’ fools,” sniffed Jake, wiping at the tears welling up in his eyes.
Blake felt his heart go out to these two people who loved Katrina like their own. “You did the best for everyone concerned, especially Katrina. I have learned one thing since she came into my life — she will do as she damn well pleases. And God help anyone who tries to stop her.”
“I believe stopping her is exactly what we intend to do,” David said, smiling.
Blake smiled as well and nodded agreement. “Then may God help us.”
“She’s a hell of a fighter, Kat is.” Jake put his arm about his wife to reassure her. “She will be fine, deary. You will see, an’ maybe our Kat will be free, once an’ for all.”
David looked confused and asked, “Free? I don’t understand what you mean.”
Blake understood and explained. “Free of all promises she is beholden to; but most of all, Katrina will be free of the anger and hate burdening her.”
He looked out into the dark night, the rain falling in a steady stream as lightning streaked across the black sky, thunder following with its loud crack. “We will wait until morning to leave; we can’t get far in this storm.”
“I think we could use some sleep,” agreed David. “We know they can’t get far either.”
“I’ll be back later,” mumbled Blake absently, his mind elsewhere when he left.
Blake pulled the collar of his redingote up around his neck as he walked through the darkened streets, his hat pulled low on his forehead to shield his face from the falling rain. When he came to a small cottage, he stopped and pounded on the door. Father Murray answered it and greeted him with a warm smile and hearty handshake.
“I have come to see John,” explained Blake and entered.
John called out from an alcove just off the main room. “It’s about time you got here. Come, sit. You will forgive me if I do not get up.”
Blake crossed the candlelit room and pulled up a chair beside the bed where John sat, propped up by pillows, his chest bare except for the white bandage. Blake noticed two more men sitting near the fireplace and John explained their presence.
“They are watch dogs, sent to make certain I don’t go after Kat.” Taking in Blake’s disheveled appearance, he sighed, relieved. “You are here now, and I do not have to worry anymore. I’m not so sure I could have made it.”
Blake wasted no time and asked, “Where is she headed, John?”
“North,” he answered and elaborated when Blake cast him an annoyed look. “I’ve been thinking about it for hours. If I know Kat, she’ll head for an old hunting lodge her father owned. It’ll give her shelter, a place to prepare an ambush. Lawrence never bothered to go up there — a bit rustic for a dandy like him. Kat and I used to go there when we could, when she felt the need to get away. It will take her about six days to get there. She will wait for Lawrence there.”
“If he doesn’t catch up to her before she reaches the cabin,” Blake murmured, exhausted from worry.
John grinned, much like a proud father. “Not a chance. Kat will know exactly where she is going and can move fast. Langsford will do well not to lose hours, rather than gain some on her.”
Frowning, Blake questioned John further. “Can I catch up to her before Langsford?”
“Yes.” John nodded. “There is a shortcut I’m certain Kat won’t take.”
“What makes you think so?”
“If she keeps to the roads, Kat will find help along the way. We know several families between here and the cabin; they will see she is taken care of. It would be dangerous for her to go cross-country alone given her condition and Kat would not be so foolish. She’ll stay close to the main roads.”
John gave Blake directions to the lodge and added, “I have a cousin who lives about an hour from the lodge. Kat will most likely stop there before going on. It may be possible for you to catch up to her then.”
John paused for a moment and added, “Kat is not going to be happy to see you, Blake. She will be madder than hell. Not just for trying to stop her, but other reasons as well.”
Blake’s laugh was more like a snort. “That’s an understatement. God knows I’ve given her cause to be angry.”
“I have never seen Kat run away from anything before, but she is afraid to face the hurt and pain you have inflicted. Instead, she has turned all her concentration to Langsford. Try and understand … this Kat will not be the person we are familiar with. She is like a wild animal, wounded and backed into a corner. Kat will be fighti
ng for her life, and she wants … no, she needs to kill him. Revenge is everything to her now, and she will not listen to reason. Only one thing exists in her mind — Langsford must die.”
Blake rubbed his face with his hands, weariness making it hard to think. “Are you telling me to let her fight the man? To stand back and possibly watch her get hurt — or die?”
John heard the turmoil in Blake’s voice, the fear in his eyes when he answered. “I don’t know — I only know the pain and anger inside of Kat has been brewing for ten years. You and I, we can sit here and say we understand, but we really don’t. We can claim to know the right thing to do, as long as our decisions are made for another and not for ourselves. We preach two standards; one for men, the other for women. If we were in Kat’s place, wouldn’t we do the same thing? Wouldn’t we want revenge as much as she does?”
Angry at how close John’s words were to his own thoughts, Blake yelled, “I don’t know. I just know one thing — I cannot let Katrina fight him. It scares the hell out of me when I think of losing her. I could not bear it again. No — not again. And no matter how skillful she is, if she fights Langsford, she could die. There are never any guarantees when you are fighting for your life, John. So I cannot allow her to seek her revenge — I cannot.”
Sadly, John muttered, “She may never forgive you.”
“I can live with her not forgiving me, John.” Blake sighed. “But I cannot live without her.”
THE WATER WAS HOT, its steam drifted in wisps around Katrina as she relaxed in the old wooden tub. The warm liquid soothed her, worked its magic on her tired soul, easing the soreness of her bruised muscles and burning lacerations. She sighed, content. It felt good to have clean hair again, she thought, feeling the weight of it piled on her head. She touched her face gingerly.
“The swelling has gone down; I wasn’t able to see much from this eye with it swollen.” Katrina smiled as a woman ten years her senior poured more hot water into the tub. “I am sorry if I frightened you, Meg.”
“Don’t you be worryin’ ’bout me, Rina. Was a shock t’ see you in such a bad way. Why, it still makes me blood boil when I think of a man doin’ t’ you what he did. I sure do not know how you rode so far in the shape you were in.”
Katrina began soaping herself, controlling her features to show no pain. “Now, Meg, I will be fine — I promise. This bath alone is working miracles. I just look worse than I feel.”
“Humph,” retorted Meg, “that’s for sure. You’re plumb black an’ blue from head to toe, I never seen the likes.”
Katrina listened patiently to Meg’s kind chastising, aware of the sight she presented, but all-in-all, she did feel better. The first three days had been terrible but the pain had eased, the soreness disappearing more each day. The bruises were at their ugliest in various shades of black, purple, green, and blue, making it apparent how badly she had been beaten. The lacerations on her back and buttocks had started to heal, along with the various other cuts and scratches. She actually was beginning to feel like her old self again.
Yes, thought Katrina to herself, I feel like I am ready to face you, Langsford. I will be waiting — tonight you will die.
Katrina jumped, hearing a noise in the other room. “What is it, Meg?”
Meg listened before answering, puzzled. “It sounds like someone at the door.”
Katrina tensed when voices drifted to her ears and she rose quickly from the tub. “My God, it can’t be him.”
Meg grabbed the large cotton towel and wrapped it around Katrina. “What’s wrong, Rina?”
Just then the door burst open and Blake loomed large and angry in the tiny room, his face a black cloud. Meg’s mouth dropped open and she backed away, his overbearing and sudden intrusion causing a fright.
“W-what are you doin’ sir? This is me house you be bustin’ into.”
Katrina cut off any further protests. “It’s all right, Meg.”
Meg met Katrina’s cold gaze and a sudden chill ran down her spine. “Rina … he’s not the man who hurt you?”
“No, Meg, he is not. This is Lord Blake Roberts of Windsong. You have no need to fear him.”
Blake stepped forward, sincerely ashamed he had frightened the poor woman so terribly. “Ma’am, I am here to help her. Please forgive the sudden intrusion, but I must speak with the lady.”
Confusion overwhelmed Meg, uncertain of what to do. “As you can rightly see, the lady is not presentable, Lord Roberts.”
Seeing Blake’s patience wearing thin, Katrina gave Meg a gentle shove toward the door. “It is all right, Meg. Leave us.”
Not wishing to stay a moment longer than necessary, Meg ran into the other room and Blake closed the door behind her.
“What are you doing here?” asked Katrina, indignant anger making her shake.
Blake did not answer; he merely walked toward her with slow deliberate steps. He heard the fury in her voice but shadows covered her face. Once he stood before her, Katrina turned away, but he reached out and forced her to look at him.
Carefully, Blake examined her bruised face, not missing a single detail, his own face giving away none of the torment he felt inside. It was the hardest thing he had ever done not to reveal the hot fury bolting through him, or the pain close to breaking him.
“Dear God,” he whispered, his voice finally betraying his feelings to Katrina.
Twisting away from his grasp, she closed her eyes, feeling a strange flush of shame wash over her. “I asked you a question,” she demanded, her voice raised.
Suddenly, Blake ripped off the towel covering Katrina, revealing the rest of the abuse she suffered at Randolph’s hands. Both Katrina and Blake gasped, she from surprise at his action, and he from the shock shooting through him with so much intensity he could not breathe. The look on his face hypnotized Katrina; unable to move away from him as he scrutinized her. Slowly, he turned her around, his hands trembling when he touched her shoulders.
Blake stood and stared at her back. Numbness claimed him, and he actually thought he might be sick, bitter bile rising in his throat. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to block out the horror before him, trying to bring his turbulent reactions under control.
She stood for a long moment, her back to Blake, unable to move. Finally, Katrina came alive, reacting to the humiliation his silent examination caused. She whirled about and brought her hand up hard against his face, the slap echoing in the silent room. In an instant, her anger disappeared.
She stared at her stinging hand, saw and felt the wetness on her palm. She raised her gaze to meet Blake’s angry look, the trace of his tears still on his face where the imprint of her hand reddened his cheek.
“Blake,” mumbled Katrina weakly.
Questions tore at Blake’s heart, but his anger was stronger. “Get dressed,” he ordered through clenched teeth and shoved her from him.
Why had he done that? Blake berated himself. He wanted only to hold her, to comfort her — but instead he pushed her from him. He looked away as she silently dressed.
David waited outside, having seen to saddling Blackstar. Blake all but drug Katrina from the house and lifted her like a child onto her horses back.
“David,” Katrina cried; her voice now gentle.
The lieutenant nudged his horse closer and could not believe how terribly her face had been beaten. “Dear God, Katrina.” Tenderly he reached over and caressed her bruised face, a motion not lost on Blake as he fumed jealously.
Katrina reached up and squeezed his extended arm reassuringly, her voice warm, “It is not as bad as it looks, David. I’ll be fine.”
“She is lying, David. The rest of her is far worse than her face. The bastard took a strap to her back.”
Blake felt like a petulant child itching to throw a tantrum. Why was she so soft and tender with David and only hard and cold with him? Grabbing the reins from Katrina, he kicked Hera into a run, forcing Katrina to grab onto the saddle horn to keep from falling off at the sudden s
tart. Confused, David could only follow.
He refused to give the reins to Katrina as they made their way to the lodge. By the time they arrived, darkness had settled about them and Katrina’s anger was out of control.
She understood their intention to stop her from fighting Lawrence. She desperately sought a plan, but none came to mind. Katrina said nothing and her intentional silence grated on Blake’s nerves.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Langsford?” Blake finally burst out, unable to stand it any longer.
Katrina looked at Blake and answered, “You would only try and stop me, as you are doing now.”
Blake slammed his fist against the door he stood near. “You can’t fight him, Katrina — I cannot allow it!”
She stood her ground, her own anger like a sizzling heat inside her. “You cannot allow! Just who the hell are you to stop me? You have no right.”
“But I do,” interrupted David, the only one who was calm. “Revenge is not yours to take, Katrina. It is a matter for the law.”
“The law?” screamed Katrina, both men surprised by her ferocity. “And tell me, David, what can the law do to Langsford? You have no evidence he has committed any crimes — only my word against his.”
Knowing she was correct, David found it difficult to meet her heated gaze.
“Neither of you has the right to stop me. He slaughtered my parents and three times has tried to kill me. Tell me, David — tell me again how wrong it is to seek revenge for what he has done.”
He did not answer.
Katrina’s anger was prodigious. She trembled from it, her voice loud and strained. “Tell me, Blake, you have killed men for less reason than mine? How many have died in the name of honor and pride? I know for a fact, if either of you were in my place, you would thirst for revenge as I do. But because I am a woman, you say I cannot do this, I cannot hate the man who made my life a living hell! Should I be meek and frightened? Should I forget what he has done to me?”
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