Angel in Black

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Angel in Black Page 37

by Fela Dawson Scott


  Catherine’s eyes sparked and narrowed to small slits as she gathered her courage, speaking with much more calmness than she felt. “I think I will stay, and if you are truly concerned about that witch, you will listen to what I have to say.”

  She licked her lips nervously and seeing she had Blake’s undivided attention went on. “You see, darling, I know about Katrina’s little secret.”

  “What are you talking about?” Blake asked directly, annoyed beyond endurance by her obnoxious attitude.

  A calculating gleam entered her eyes, and her voice rang with sudden confidence as Catherine laid her cards on the table. “I know Katrina is the Angel in Black. Now — I am sure the King would find her secret very interesting, don’t you think?”

  For several minutes Blake did not move; the look in his eyes murderous. His hand clenched into a fist as a muscle jumped in his jaw. He had the urge to kill her and be done with it, but Blake still had a sliver of reasoning in his muddled mind.

  “What do you want?” he demanded.

  Catherine walked over to him, her face soft and flirtatious. Her fingers moved over his chest provocatively. “You know what I want, darling.”

  Her voice came out whispery soft and husky. The sound irritated Blake and her touch repulsed him. “Be specific,” he snarled and grabbed her wandering fingers in a painful grip.

  She pulled away, a pouting look on her lips as she hissed, “I want you, Blake Roberts. You will be mine, or Katrina will hang for her crimes. You will make me Lady Catherine Roberts, wife of Lord Blake Roberts, or …”

  Catherine didn’t finish; her meaning clear. She smiled smug and confident, aware of the power she had over Blake. “Don’t look so forlorn, Blake. I will make you a wonderful wife.”

  Victory surged through her and laughter filled the room, grating Blake’s raw nerves. He did not trust himself to say anything; he did not trust himself to move. If he did, he feared he might actually kill a woman.

  The shrill sound drifted out to Katrina, who stood stunned beyond belief. Silently, she left through the garden gate.

  Catherine took Blake’s speechlessness as consent and continued to outline her plans. “Now, dear, there is a costume ball at the palace tonight and you will be my escort. We can announce our plans to be married there. The quicker the better, don’t you agree?”

  Blake’s gut tightened and his mouth went dry. Rage shook him so violently he feared answering, his temper strung so thin he came close to giving in to his impulse to strangle the life from her.

  His continued silence made her bolder. Catherine leaned forward and kissed him hungrily, her lips moving seductively on his own. Blake fought the urge to throw her from him but willed himself to be still as he tried to gain some semblance of control over his rage.

  Catherine pulled away, eyes flashing at his stiff, nonresponsive manner. “You really must do better, darling. Not only must you marry me, but you have to keep me happy. You wouldn’t want me unhappy, now would you?”

  She affected the tone of a mother scolding her errant child, filling Blake with an unreasonable ire, breaking all restraint with its consuming fire.

  He grabbed her wandering hands painfully and growled through clenched teeth, a smoldering fire in each word. “Now, you listen to me, Catherine Ramsey, and you listen carefully. I’ll not stoop to your blackmail for there is no way in hell I would marry you.”

  His look turned dark, dangerous but she chose to reply unwisely, “What a pity, I had hoped we could come to terms. Since you give me no choice, Blake, I will have to visit the King.”

  “No,” he muttered, his strong grip hurting her. “You won’t be seeing the King, not now, not ever — unless, you do not value your worthless life.”

  Green eyes widened in shock, but narrowed when Catherine drew a deep, calming breath. She charged on, unwilling to give in easily. “You are threatening me, Blake? You would not dare.”

  “Believe me, for you, I dare.”

  “You’re lying,” Catherine whimpered. Her bravado used up, panic and doubt seized her. “You wouldn’t kill a helpless lady.”

  A slow, evil smile crossed Blake’s lips and his eyes clearly showed he would. “We both know you are not a lady, Catherine. If you ever threaten Katrina again, I will not only see you dead, but I will take immense joy in the act.”

  Caution pricked her mind and she believed he would do as threatened. Catherine realized she had lost the battle.

  Blake shoved her away from him in disgust. She cowered and stumbled away, trembling in honest fear. “Now, get out of my house, and don’t you dare step foot in here ever again.”

  She scurried from him but stopped when she heard him shout, “Remember — I’ll not let anything, or anyone, harm Katrina or my son. Forget, bitch, and you will live only long enough to know regret!”

  Catherine ran from the room in tears, unaware of the woman descending the stairs. Rebecca watched curiously as Lady Ramsey rushed from the house to her waiting carriage. When she entered the sitting room, Blake looked furious. Jason squirmed in her arms, drawing his father’s attention to them.

  “Where is Katrina?” asked Rebecca, looking about the empty room.

  His mind still on the vile woman and her threats, he answered vaguely, “Catherine just left.”

  Rebecca frowned and walked over to him. “No, not Catherine. I was told Katrina waited to take Jason with her.”

  Blake’s face mirrored his confusion. “Katrina was here?”

  The butler entered; a strange look on his face. “She is no longer here, sir. I saw her get into her carriage, before Lady Ramsey left.”

  “Now, why would Katrina leave without Jason?” Rebecca asked and looked at Blake, confused.

  No one answered.

  THE EVENING PASSED IN agonizing slowness for Blake, his mind distracted as he considered Katrina’s appearance and disappearance time and time again. He came no closer to understanding her or why he received a message from her to meet at the palace during the ball? The hour grew late, yet she still she hadn’t arrived. Stifled among the gay revelers, he needed a moment to himself and walked out into the fresh air.

  Catherine Ramsey also attended the costume ball but deliberately avoided any contact with Blake. Obviously, he had gotten through her thick skull. He felt a little sorry for the poor fellow who escorted her as she clung to him, fawning over his every word. Blake saw the fool was unaware of the trap being carefully laid by the nasty, determined woman. He chuckled out loud at her colorful and flamboyant bird costume, adorned with feathers everywhere, reflecting her endless chattering nature.

  As usual, his own attire was simple; dressed as a buccaneer with fawn-colored breeches, a snowy white shirt and black boots. A sword dangled at his side and a pistol tucked into his belt completed the outfit. Rebecca thought of it when he declared, at the last minute, he would attend.

  “I was beginning to think I would never find you.”

  Blake turned to find himself face to face with a worried-looking David Greerson.

  “What do you need?” asked Blake, his emotions in careful check.

  “Katrina has disappeared.” Concern filled his voice while panic caused him to shout the statement. Pulling himself together, he lowered his voice appropriately. “She went to your townhouse this morning to get Jason but never returned. Worried, I went to your house and was told she had arrived but left, very suddenly, without her son. Blake, I have looked everywhere with no luck, and she has yet to return to the inn.”

  Blake kept his face blank and unreadable, his voice calm and unconcerned. “I have not seen Katrina, David, but she did send me a brief message to meet her here. I don’t know why, we have nothing left to say to one another.”

  Blake’s manner was the last straw for David, who was crazed with frustration and worry over Katrina. “You bastard,” he grabbed Blake by the collar, his face turning red with fury. “Just what the hell went on at your townhouse? Katrina’s been upset enough by your unexplained depar
ture — how dare you treat her so badly.”

  Unable to control his own temper any longer, Blake shoved David back, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “Why should she be upset by my leaving? She’s marrying you, not me.”

  David’s mouth opened in shock, confusion written clearly on his face. “Marrying me? What made you think Katrina and I are going to be married?”

  “I saw the whole touching scene, complete with a tender kiss. It was quite clear actually. I heard the happiness in her voice when she said yes, and you declared as soon as she was well you would be married. You cannot deny it.” Blake’s pain made his voice tremble and he cleared his throat, uncomfortable at his show of weakness.

  Enlightenment dawned and David tried to explain. “Blake, I did not ask Katrina to marry me. I told her of my engagement to a fine lady named Elizabeth. As my dear friend, she was delighted by the news. I intended to tell you the same day, but you disappeared on us, suddenly, without explanation. The kiss was an innocent gesture of a love shared by good and devoted friends, nothing else. Blake, Katrina is my friend; I thought you understood this.”

  Blake paled as David’s explanation sank in. It was true; he had not heard the entire conversation, only bits and pieces. “It seems I allowed my jealousy to rule me again, something I swore not to do. Will I never learn?”

  “Your disappearance hurt her much more than she let on, but I knew she was devastated. Jesus, how are we going to fix this?”

  Blake stiffened. David saw the sudden change in Blake’s manner and asked, “What is it?”

  “I think I know why Katrina disappeared this morning,” mumbled Blake. He thought back to the argument with Catherine, his mind going over every word, every detail.

  “The patio doors were open.”

  Confused, David shook his head not following his train of thought. “What?”

  It all fell into place. “When I entered the sitting room this morning, the doors leading to the gardens were open and the room empty. I remember the vague scent of roses was in the air, but I shrugged it off, thinking it was the flowers just outside. Katrina had been there, David, she must have gone onto the patio. She was outside the room when Catherine arrived.”

  “What has Catherine Ramsey to do this?”

  “Well,” Blake looked at David, his voice and face serious. “Catherine knows Katrina is the Angel in Black and threatened to use this knowledge in order to blackmail me.”

  Surprised, David questioned, “For money?”

  Blake frowned and sighed. “Not exactly — she demanded I marry her or she will tell the King everything.”

  David sputtered in shock. “And you intend to marry the witch?”

  “No, of course not. I told her to go to hell, and if she ever dared to threaten Katrina again, she would seriously regret it.” Blake’s voice grew hard, a deadly tone underlying the simple explanation. David knew, without asking for further detail, what must have been said.

  “It still does not tell us where Katrina is. And why the note asking you to come tonight? If she was to be here, where the hell is she?” asked David, weary from worry.

  Blake sighed, his frustration showing. “I don’t know, David. I just don’t know. It seems I am not the only one given to overhearing conversations.”

  A sudden thought dawned, and Blake’s confusion turned to genuine fear. “She left before Catherine … you don’t think —”

  A sudden commotion drew their attention and Blake ran back inside, David on his heels. Excitement rippled over the crowd and both men worked their way through the gathered people to the center of the ballroom. Both stopped dead in their tracks when they spotted the reason.

  Dressed as the Angel in Black, Katrina sat proudly on Blackstar. He pranced nervously in the noisy, crowded ballroom but she kept him restrained. In unison, David and Blake pushed through the tight circle formed around the impressive figure. Katrina’s eyes locked with Blake’s and she casually threw him a kiss and winked, bold as brass.

  An uneasy feeling gripped Blake, twisted his stomach into knots, his nagging fear confirmed, hitting him full force what she about to do. A screech penetrated his numbness and Catherine Ramsey ran out into the open space the crowd fearfully gave the black beast and his mysterious rider.

  Her chest heaved in anger, her ample bosom threatening to spill from the low cleavage of the costume she wore. “You …” she spit vehemently.

  Unconcerned, Katrina ignored the woman and gracefully dismounted from Blackstar. She handed the reins to David who stood stunned, unable to move. The crowd quickly parted to allow the King himself to approach the curious rider. When he reached Katrina, she dropped into a flawless curtsy, kissing the King’s hand in obeisance.

  “I must say, this is the most exciting entrance we have ever had at one of my costume galas, and to come as the famous Angel in Black — enchanting. If the criminal herself is as shapely as you, my dear, I can understand why she is spoken of with admiration.” His laughter echoed in the now silent room, everyone waiting for the lady to speak.

  “You are too kind, Your Majesty.” Katrina smiled warmly. “But you are indeed speaking to the criminal herself. I am the Angel in Black.”

  A murmur spread across the room and the King stepped back in an instinctive move. Catherine stepped forward, frenzied. “You bitch, what are you doing?”

  “I have just played the winning hand and you have lost.”

  “Lost,” screamed Catherine. “It is you who have lost, you fool. You are a wanted woman — you will most assuredly hang.”

  “But you will not have Blake,” Katrina reminded her, calmly, matter-of-factly.

  Catherine sneered, “But neither will you.”

  Katrina shook her head and whispered huskily, “Blake will always be mine — in life and in death.”

  “No,” Catherine shrieked and lunged at Katrina, her claw-like hands ready to scratch Katrina’s face.

  Quick to react, the Angel grabbed Catherine by the wrists and easily forced her to her knees. “I would just as soon hang for murder as for thievery. Do not tempt me!”

  When Katrina let go of Catherine, the woman sank to the floor, uncontrolled sobbing overtaking her spent anger. Katrina stepped past her to the King, who stood transfixed.

  “I am surrendering to my King and freely confess my crimes.”

  Katrina pulled her sword, causing gasps of fear from the court as guards stepped forward, their own weapons drawn in defense. Moving carefully, Katrina laid the blade at her King’s feet, followed by her two pistols.

  Two guards flanked her and grabbed her arms. Blake reacted and rushed to her aid, a guttural growl telling of his wrath and fear shown clearly in his eyes.

  “No,” Katrina cried out to stop him before he struck the guard standing in his path. “Blake, please, no.”

  “Wait,” demanded the King. Everyone froze in place. “I would know who you are. Remove the mask.”

  A hand snatched the Angel’s hat and mask off. A gasp rippled over the crowd, her identity revealed to all.

  “Katrina,” King George muttered in surprise. “What manner of joke is this?”

  She looked straight into the King’s sad eyes and answered, “It is not a joke, my lord. I am the Angel in Black.”

  “It can’t be.”

  “It’s the truth.” Her grim words echoed in the large room. “I have no reason to lie and most assuredly, much to lose.”

  The King turned scarlet with indignation; feeling betrayed and made the fool before all. “Take her to the tower,” he yelled. “I’ll not abide your treasonous behavior. Take her away, so I do not have to look upon her face again.”

  As the guards started to lead her from the court, Blake started toward her but was forcibly halted.

  “Katrina,” he called after her, his anguish in her uttered name.

  Looking back, her heart lurched when she met his suffering eyes.

  “Why? Dear God, why?” he yelled in agony, struggling against the men who h
eld him.

  Katrina’s voice trembled with suppressed emotion and, for the first time since the death of her parents, tears spilled onto her cheeks and blurred her vision. “Because I love you, I love you, Blake — more than life itself.”

  The guards forced her from the room and she cried over her shoulder, “Blake, take care of Jason.”

  Blake sank to his knees, defeated; the vision of her tears broke his heart.

  “Katrina,” he bellowed, his cries echoing after her. “Katrina!”

  Chapter Thirty

  THE SUN SANK SLOWLY in the western sky, melted shades of rose and purple against the azure-blue, a peaceful, soft sunset. But peace did not enter Katrina as she stood at the only window in her chamber in the tower. A heavy melancholic longing invaded her, the memory of Blake’s distress haunting her. She closed her eyes against the vision of it, but his heart-wrenching cries echoed again and again. Frustrated, she covered her ears to close out the noise.

  “Katrina.”

  Blake called her name when he entered the cell, but when she did not seem to hear, he gently caressed her shoulder and whispered, “Are you all right, little one?”

  Whirling about, Katrina threw her arms around his neck. Blake gathered her into his arms and lifted her from the floor. “How did you manage to get in?” she asked, afraid to let go.

  “It took a lot of begging, but the King finally agreed to let me see you.” Blake kissed her neck, sending shivers through her. His breath tickled her ear when he whispered, “We have all night.”

  Suddenly shy, Katrina pulled away, a flush staining her cheeks. Feeling awkward and uneasy, she turned to sarcasm to hide her vulnerable state of mind. “One last night of love for the condemned prisoner?”

  Blake saw beyond her false facade and scolded, “You little fool. You should not have done this.”

  “I suppose you would have me meekly stand by and watch that blackmailing bitch trap you into marriage? I do not need you sacrificing yourself for my sake, Blake Roberts. I knew what dangers I faced when I first rode as the Angel, and I am not afraid of the consequences now.”

 

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