The Rebel's Bride

by JoAnn DeLazzari

  “Did he beat you?” Sabrina asked sharply.

  “Lord, no!” Catherine laughed. “He never had to. I was terrified of him. His scowl could freeze me on the spot.”

  “Then what is this about choice?”

  “Ransom wanted no wife, yet once we . . . we had—”

  “I understand,” Sabrina laughed lightly. “Go on.”

  “After that it was like . . . Well, he . . . Knowing I could not stay with no future, he would not let me go. I was to stay and take the abuse of the town just because he said so.”

  “So you are running,” Sabrina sighed as Catherine nodded.

  “What a pity.” Confused, Catherine stared at her. “Here was a man who wanted you so badly he would risk—”

  “What? What would he be risking, Sabrina? It would be me who had to hang her head in shame. He could proudly march through town with no more than an occasional nod. Other men might even envy him. He had all the benefits of a wife with none of the responsibility.”

  “‘Tis the dual standards society places on men and women,” Sabrina sighed. “So what will you do when we get home?” She clearly dropped the touchy subject for Catherine’s benefit.

  “I am not sure,” she admitted. “Perhaps I can secure a…position teaching or as a governess somewhere to earn my keep.” Thinking of the child she carried that was beginning to show if someone looked closely, she wondered at her prospects. “Or I might find an inn where I can work. After all,” she smiled weakly. “I have some experience as a tavern wench.”

  “You could come back home with me,” Sabrina offered. “In fact, I think it would be a good idea for you to stay there for a while.” Skeptically, Catherine sought an explanation. “Father needs to see we are getting along well, or he might not believe we spent time together at Devil’s Head.”

  Catherine knew her condition would soon be apparent. She didn’t think it wise to delay her departure from the critical eye of her uncle. “We will see,” she tried to pacify her cousin. A tap at the door put an end to any conversation.

  Rising, Sabrina shrugged. “I am being called.”

  Catherine was again filled with gratitude to her cousin. She could tell by the look on Sabrina’s face she would not relish what she was about to do, despite her words. On impulse, Catherine went to her and embraced her tightly.

  “What’s that for, cousin?” Sabrina asked, her voice shaky with emotion.

  “We are kin, Sabrina, and I told you, I care for you.”

  Smiling genuinely, Sabrina prepared to return to her room. “A few weeks and this will all be behind us.” She squeezed Catherine’s hand. “Then maybe we can get to be friends, too.”

  Catherine smiled in reply. She felt closer than ever to her cousin and believed Sabrina felt the same way.

  * * *

  Catherine could hardly believe their journey was almost over. Within the hour, they would be at Winthorpe. Although she survived the journey well enough, she knew her cousin’s memories were painful ones. From the time they left there to travel through the beautiful Irish countryside, she could see that every vestige of the gay, flirtatious Sabrina of old had disappeared.

  With depleted funds, the journey overland was one of minimal accommodations. Sabrina seemed to prefer quiet inns and public coaches. Catherine had to wonder if some good might have come out of the nightmarish voyage for her cousin. She turned to look at Sabrina and smiled to herself.

  Fortune had found them the previous evening at the inn where they ate. A local squire who knew the duke appeared and offered them the use of his carriage. His thoughtfulness allowed Sabrina to arrive home in style.

  “I wonder if Father will let me into the house,” Sabrina sighed.

  “He is your father, Sabrina. No matter what you have done, he will love you.”

  Sabrina fidgeted with the frog on her coat. “At one time I thought so,” she sighed. “But I have certainly pushed his forgiveness to the limit this time.” Turning to face Catherine, she stated truthfully, “If he does, I swear I am going to become the daughter he has always wanted.”

  “He will be so glad you are safe and home, nothing else will matter. You will see,” Catherine smiled, praying she was not giving false hope.

  To her delight, it was as she said. Charles Thorpe was so delighted to see his daughter coming up the stairs to the house, he fairly flew to take her in his arms. As Catherine stood back watching, her eyes filled with tears. There had been some pain in the events just past, and heartache that might never go away, but some good came out of it. Father and daughter were genuinely sharing their love, perhaps for the first time.

  “Catherine!” Charles Thorpe called, opening his arms to encompass her in his happiness. “Welcome back, child.”

  “Thank you, uncle.” She smiled as she enjoyed the first true tender exchange between them.

  He ushered them inside. Baths and rooms were readied. While they waited, he settled them into the parlor for tea and a light repast.

  “There is much we need to discuss,” he said once they were seated. “Yet I think we should let it pass for now. Suffice it to say, I am pleased you are both well and here.”

  “No, Father,” Sabrina, shared a long look with Catherine. “There are things you must know now.”

  Catherine proudly listened as Sabrina went on to tell her tale, leaving out nothing except the conditions of their return passage.

  “And here we are, two refugees if you like.”

  The duke’s eyes misted. “And what of you, Catherine?” he asked, clearly wanting to hear both sides. “What can you add to this?”

  “Nothing, really.” To her relief, he granted her the privacy of her thoughts.

  “Very well, my dears,” he sighed and reached for his daughter’s hand. “We will not speak of any of this again. It is in the past and, with all my heart, I hope you have learned from it.”

  It was obvious to whom he directed his comment. “Yes, Father,” Sabrina smiled. “I have learned much.”

  Clearly moved by her words, Charles nodded and resumed his role of a powerful duke. “Then let’s get you two settled,” he announced, rising to lead them to the stairs. “I shall expect you both to dine with me.”

  The cousins made their way upstairs. Instead of the small, austere room she used before leaving, Catherine was shown to one across the hall from Sabrina’s in the family wing.

  “In case we wish to talk,” Sabrina smiled.

  Catherine wanted to thank her, but was interrupted with the arrival of water for their baths.

  * * *

  “You awake?” Sabrina peered around the door to Catherine’s room after a brief knock.

  “Yes, come in,” Catherine replied. She set aside the book she had just curled up with. Sabrina entered with a tray balanced on her hip. Quickly, Catherine rose to help her set it on the table. “Whatever do you have here?”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I am still hungry,” Sabrina said, flipping off a towel to reveal a plate filled with biscuits and cakes. A teapot steamed beside it. “I thought this would help.”

  Catherine picked up a sugared delight and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm, wonderful,” she laughed. Two cups of tea were poured. Catherine enjoyed the pleasant snack and inconsequential chatter she shared with Sabrina.

  “I really was not sure what to expect with Papa,” Sabrina finally admitted. “I am afraid we have not truly gotten to know one another over the years since Mama died.”

  “Most parents can forgive their children for anything if they sincerely wish forgiveness,” Catherine astutely explained.

  Sabrina laughed. “I am not laughing at what you are saying,” she grinned. “It is how you are saying it. You sound like some old nurse maid.”

  “Yes, I suppose I do.” She stood and paced about the room. “I guess I am practicing for the position I will be seeking. It would do me well to sound wise.”

  Catherine tried to sound carefree yet even she could hear the underlying
tone of fear and doubt in her own words. She wrung her hands and hoped Sabrina did not notice. She stopped before the lamp and turned when she heard Sabrina gasp.

  “Cathy! You are with child!”

  Without thinking, Catherine’s hands fell to protect her growing child. She expected to see shock and disgrace, yet all she saw was loving curiosity.

  “You . . .you are not ashamed of . . . my state?” she asked, her voice cracking with emotion.

  “Ashamed?” Sabrina rose and placed her arm about Catherine’s shoulder. “Why?”

  “I . . . I am not wed.”

  Sabrina gazed at her sadly. “What have I done to you?” Catherine could not reply to the heartfelt question. Sabrina gently took her hand and led her back to the chair. “When is the child due?”

  “The end of February, I think.”

  Sabrina calculated. “So you are about four months along.” Catherine nodded “Then how could you hope to secure a position?”

  “I do not know what else I can do.”

  Sabrina pursed her lips in thought. Finally, she nodded. “You will stay here.”

  “I cannot! I . . . I would be a disgrace to your father and—”

  Sabrina threw back her head and laughed naturally. “You think you could disgrace him any more than I? Oh, Cathy. You were wed when you conceived.”

  “No, Sabrina,” Catherine said softly. “I only thought I was wed.”

  “But only you know that.”

  “Sabrina,” Catherine warned, her voice rising as she said her name.

  “I know! I know! You hate this lying, but . . .” She looked to Catherine’s slightly rounded stomach, “you must think of the child.”

  “And should I be a widow? Or perhaps we can claim immaculate conception.”

  “You are being melodramatic,” Sabrina scolded. “We will simply imply you are widowed. Then, someday, someone will come along and take you and the child happily.”

  “I do not want anyone,” Catherine said softly.

  “Except Ransom, you mean,” Sabrina stated.

  “No, not even him.” Catherine sighed. “There are too many lies and too little faith between us. I just want to have my child and find a quiet place to raise him.” Catherine knew she was being stubborn, but she refused to bend.

  “All right, cousin. We will drop it for now, but on one condition.”

  Catherine sighed and shook her head.

  “Even you should be able to live with this one,” Sabrina stated firmly. Catherine waited to hear what her cousin had in mind. “Stay here until the child is born.” Before Catherine could object, she went on. “I owe you and I will feel better if you accept.”

  “But your father will—”

  “I will take care of my father,” she grinned. “Will you do it? Will you stay?”

  Catherine thought of how grand it would be to simply enjoy the time she carried her child instead of having to toil up to the moment it was born. “Very well, Sabrina. I will stay, but only if you find some way for me to earn my keep.”

  “Father will never hear of it,” Sabrina exclaimed. “You are kin and the kin of a duke, especially close kin, do not earn their keep.”

  There was no point in arguing. Catherine could see Sabrina had made up her mind. “All right, but once the child comes I will have to—”

  “We will worry about that after the child arrives.”

  Sabrina was making an effort to set her own life to rights, but even though Catherine didn’t feel her cousin should try to mend hers, she nodded and watched Sabrina sit back in apparent triumph.

  * * *

  Ransom awoke to find Holden standing over him. “What do you want?” he grumbled.

  “My friend back,” Holden stated. Ransom mumbled something undistinguishable. “Everyone around here is tired of your self-pity.” His tone strengthened. “We have a war to win and we need Captain Ransom Kent.”

  “I’ve done my part,” Ransom snapped. “You go fight the damned war.”

  Holden yanked Ransom to his feet. “Damn it, man! Stop this foolishness or—”

  Ransom shoved Holden aside. “I don’t happen to think that living my life the way I wish is foolishness.”

  “It is if you sit about with no reason to live.” Holden was clearly no longer afraid of Ransom’s bad temper. “You’re acting like a little boy who is pouting because he didn’t get what he wanted.”

  “That’s absurd!”

  “Is it really, Ransom?”

  Ransom sat back in his chair and stared across the room. It was true. He had let that wisp of a girl completely disarm him. His dedication to his country and the challenges he had set for himself were tossed aside when he found her gone. And the trouble was, he never really even contemplated why. Perhaps because he knew.

  Catherine was a lady, not just because society deemed it, but because it was a natural part of her. When he insisted she stay as his mistress until he could settle the problem with Sabrina, he had asked for more than she could give. He should have known and presented it to her more gently. All he could think of were his own needs. He never considered hers.

  “I have been a fool, haven’t I?”

  “Well, since you’re asking,” Holden grinned. Ransom glared at him and he shrugged. “All right, we’ll let it go since we are both in agreement.”

  Ransom took a deep breath. “I suppose I have shunned my responsibilities long enough. There is a war to be won so I can go after that wife . . . that woman of mine.”

  Holden smiled at him. “That’s more like it.”

  The past three weeks had nearly destroyed him. His every waking moment was spent recalling each facet of her. From her timid beginnings to the fiery woman she became, he loved all of her and, if it took years, he would reclaim the glory that was Catherine.

  “So tell me what has been going on these last weeks.”

  “I’ll fill you in,” Holden said, “but only after you get cleaned up.”

  “Bad, huh?” Ransom asked, rubbing the heavy stubble on his jaw.

  “I only want to fight one war at a time. I’ll get Alice to make you something to eat before answering that.”

  * * *

  Within two days, Ransom manned the helm of the Ebony on a run to Boston. Badly needed supplies filled the hold. As he looked skyward, he breathed deeply to remind himself he was alive. The past three weeks had been hellish, but they were of his own making.

  Considering the way he allowed his feelings to drag him down, he shook off the melancholia quickly and made plans to set his life in order. First, he had to help end the war. Though it was possible to get to England while it raged, he would have to shirk his responsibilities to leave—and he had done enough of that over the last few weeks. When the way was cleared, he would sail to those distant shores to find Catherine.

  After this run, he would gather arms and ammunition for a trip south. The British still blockaded many of the ports in the Carolinas and Georgia. In order for supplies to get to New Orleans and General Jackson, he would have to sail around the Florida Keys and into the Gulf.

  The entire trip would be wrought with peril, but he didn’t mind. The adventure of it all was back in his soul. Patriotism blossomed anew. Until the job was done, he would forget Catherine and his desire for her. Only in his dreams could he afford to let down the barriers and embrace her. To do so at any other time could cost him and his men dearly.

  * * *

  “Hello, Father,” Sabrina called as she entered his study. “Are you busy?”

  “Come in, child,” he smiled. “What can I do for you this afternoon?” he asked when she entered and pressed a kiss to his brow.

  “I want to talk to you about Catherine.” She took a chair on the other side of his desk and placed her hands in her lap. “I am afraid some of what I did in asking her to trade places with me is going to have a lasting affect on her.”

  “Nonsense, my dear,” he smiled. “She is young. She will get over whatever it is that is botheri
ng her.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “I do not think so, Father. She is very much in love with the man who married her in my stead.”

  “That should cause no problem, not if he loves her.”

  “I am sure he does,” Sabrina stated, “but he upset her and she says she will not go back to him, no matter what happens in the courts with the marriage.”

  “Then all that is left is for her to get over him.”

  “How can she when she carries his child?” Sabrina asked.

  “I see,” he muttered.

  “Do you, Father?” Sabrina questioned. “Do you really see? Catherine is going to be a mother because of what I did. She is going to have a bastard and it is my fault.”

  Rising, Charles placed a hand on her shoulder. “There, there, child. Don’t go getting upset over it. It will help nothing.” He rubbed a finger over his lip. “Give me a few hours. I think I can promise to come up with something.”

  “Thank you, Papa!” Sabrina exclaimed and threw her arms about his neck.

  “I am as much at fault in this as you,” he commented while he held her. “Perhaps if I had spent more time with you as you grew and less insisting you outshine every other woman, none of this would have happened.”

  “The past cannot be changed, Papa, but we have been given a second chance for the future. No matter what happens, I love you.”

  “And I love you, my dear,” he said gently as he hugged her. “We will see to Catherine’s future . . . together.”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  * * *

  Phillip Kent was led in to see the Duke of Winthorpe. Standing at the door to his study, Phillip drew a deep breath as he was called inside. “Your Grace,” he bowed properly.