Down she went, skirts flying up over her knees. Her purse slid out of reach, and before she could grab it something dug into her leg up under her petticoat. Reaching down to brush it away, she caught hold of a pathetic scrap of fur and bones.
A cat. Hardly bigger than a baby chick. “Faith, and what else can go wrong?” she gasped, still sprawled flat on her bottom, hat down over her eyes and skirts up over her knees.
The kitten yowled, twisting to free himself. Sheer instinct made her hold on to the wretched little thing.
“Gimme my cat, lady!” A lad who couldn’t have been more than five years old reached for the kitten as Katy struggled to her feet.
An old man with a crutch hobbled over, retrieved her purse, and then turned to lend her a hand. She caught her breath at the stench that wafted around his tattered rags. She righted her bonnet and accepted her purse. “Thank you very much, sir,” she said breathlessly.
He could have kept it. They both knew it, just as they both knew he’d considered it. “I’ll not forget your kindness,” she told him, and turned back to the boys, who were doing their best to snatch the kitten from her hand. Holding it out of their reach, she scolded them. “If this wee creature is yours, you should be ashamed of yourselves. He’s naught but skin and bones and matted hair, the poor darling.”
One of the boys snickered. The other one quickly hid a sack behind his back. Katy clutched the kitten against her throat and received a scratch on the cheek for her troubles.
The old man cackled, hawked, and spat. “It ain’t their’n, girly. They was gonna drown it like they done drowned the rest o’ the litter. Fer a penny, they’d drown their own ma, if they had one.”
Katy’s face must have reflected her shock. “Is that true? Let me see what you’ve got in that sack.”
“We’ve not got nuthin’, lady.” Shamefaced, the boy wearing a ragged shirt that came down past his scabby knees held out the limp cloth sack. It was empty. “We done drownded the rest a’ready. Orek and me, we dropped ‘em off the end o’ the pier, all but this’n. She runned away.”
Katy felt like crying. She felt like taking them both by the scruff of the neck and shaking them until their teeth rattled. Not that they had more than half a gumful of teeth between them, and those black as tar.
Besides, it wouldn’t have done a speck of good. They weren’t really wicked, they were hungry and poor. A penny could buy a heel of bread—although she suspected their earnings would have been spent on a licorice whip, instead.
The old man scratched his head, examined his fingernails, and flicked something away. “There’s too many cats, missy. They keep the rats down and clean up what fish scraps don’t get stole fer the soup pot, but when the livin’s too easy, they breeds like lice, and has to be thinned out.”
She didn’t need this, not today, of all days.
Helplessly, she glanced back toward the Queen, and there was Galen. Arms crossed, with one of those thin, fragrant cigars he favored held between his fingers, he stood watching from the top balcony.
Her head went up. Her backbone stiffened. She saw his teeth flash in a grin, and before she could turn away, the boys had fled, leaving her with a smelly old man and a wretched animal who wanted no more of her than she did of it.
But if she let it go, it would be caught and killed, and she didn’t want that on her conscience. So she clutched the tiny scrap of fighting fur to her breast with one arm while she dug into the purse that dangled from her wrist.
“Then, here, give them this. Tell them the kitten is mine now.”
The hand that accepted the coin was black with grime, the fingers horribly twisted. She wondered briefly if the boys would ever see the coin, decided it didn’t matter, and with a curt nod, went on her way.
You foolish fumbler, your wits have gone begging, that they have! For a penny you can ill spare, you’ve gone and bought yourself another mouth to feed.
Having obviously thought better of the situation, the kitten stopped squirming and set up a pitiful cry. “Ah, sure and you’re frightened, you wee whelp,” she crooned. “A bath and a bowl of milk will set you up, that it will, but you’ll have to be quiet. Until I can find us a real home, we’re all here on sufferance, you and me and Tara.”
The back of her hand was bleeding. Her cheek had begun to sting. “Whisht now, you’re an ungrateful wretch, but I know how you’re feeling, that I do.” Holding it up to her face, she gazed into a pair of cloudy blue eyes and whispered, “You’ll not believe it, but half the time, I’m so scared myself I could jump at my own shadow.” The cat let out a pathetic wail. It was a girl cat, not a boy cat, which made it all the more dear. “We girls have a hard row to hoe, that we do. Hush now, Katy has you safe.”
She began to sing, her voice clear as a silver bell against the din of clattering wheels, hucksters’ cries, and the ever-present creak and groan of rigging. “ ‘Ah, whiskey, ye’re the divil, ye’re leading me astra-a-ay.’ Hush now, ye’re safe in Katy’s arms-o.”
“And what have we here, Miss O’Sullivan? Is that a moth-eaten muff you’re singing to?”
Her fingers tightened around the kitten’s bony middle. The little wretch promptly reacted by scratching her again. “Faith, and you’ll have me heart leaping out of me gullet, Captain Bellfort!” The words slipped out, she was that startled when the very gentleman she’d come to see loomed up in front of her. From the time she was weaned, her mother had drilled her in the proper way to speak. She had learned well, and done her best to set a good example for Tara, but now and again in a moment of stress, she backslid.
“And how did the morning’s business go, Miss O’Sullivan?”
“I suspect you know very well how it went,” she snapped, far too embarrassed to guard her tongue. “I’m sorry, sir. I was doing well enough before I ran into a wee spot of trouble.”
“A wee spot of trouble, hmm? Now that’s what I’d call a perfect description of Aster Tyler. Raked you over the coals, did she?”
She nodded. They were still standing on the wharf, drawing more than a few curious looks. For all she knew, Galen was still watching from the deck of the Queen, moored not a stone’s throw away. Sighing, she looked up into Jack Bellfort’s twinkling eyes. “I tried to explain that it was for a worthy cause, but Miss Tyler took exception.”
Tucking her free arm under his own, the captain steered her toward his boat. “If I know Aster, she was too busy tearing a strip off your—ah—dressing you down to listen. From the looks of you, I’d say she wasn’t the only one you’ve run afoul of today. Come aboard and I’ll have someone look at those scratches of yours. Cat scratches can be the very devil for going septic. Risky place, a waterfront.”
“Aye, that it is.” She thought of the two boys. She thought of the old man—of all the old men soaking up sunshine. Her heart went out to them, for every one of them looked ragged and lonely and hungry.
Katy had seen hungry men before. She’d known hunger herself when March came and the mackerel never showed up, when day after day, the seines came up empty, the sheep fell ill, and even the potatoes rotted before they could be dug.
At least those young scamps had been trying to earn a penny instead of stealing it.
The captain led her to a spacious cabin as fine as any she’d seen aboard the Queen. Indicating a velvet padded chair fit for a palace, he yanked on a tapestry ribbon, and not a minute later there came a knock on the gleaming paneled door. A cheeky lad wearing a dark green uniform poked his head inside. “Yessir?”
“Sherry for the lady, whiskey for me, and a bowl of cream—oh, and tell Jeannie to bring soap, a basin, and bandages.”
Katy held the squirming kitten on her lap and stroked its scruffy head until it settled down. “I’ve come to give you your money back, sir,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as reluctant as she felt to part with her earnings. She’d been hoping to send a few pounds to her friends back home once she got settled. She had that to do, and Galen to repay, all before she could begin to set aside
money for her business.
“Let’s not talk about that now. First, we’ll see to your injuries, and then—Ah, Jeannie, here you are. The young lady here has gone and got herself clawed by a tiger. See to it, will you?”
Jeannie, a pretty girl wearing dark green silk with a lacy apron, knelt and made over the kitten. “Here, let’s set him to his supper while I do something about those scratches.”
The cabin boy brought in a tray holding two glasses, two bottles, and a bowl of cream. Heather, for Katy had decided to call the kitten that for the color of its eyes, sniffed suspiciously at the bowl, then went to lapping it up.
Captain Bellfort filled the two glasses and handed the smaller one to Katy. Like the kitten, she sniffed it first. Then she sipped it, made a face, and said, “Tastes like medicine.”
“You might call it that. Don’t tell me you’ve never had wine before?”
Not wanting to appear as green as grass, Katy shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, I’ve had me a bit of this and a bit of that.”
“Sit still, ma’am,” cautioned the woman who was sticking a plaster to the scratch on her cheek. “There now, don’t let that wicked little imp get at you again. Cat’s claws carry all kinds of filth. If it don’t heal right away, you’ll likely have a scar. I knew a man that died of a chicken scratch.” Rising, she collected the basin, soap, and roll of bandages.
Jack Bellfort grimaced, but held the door for her. “Jeannie, Jeannie, always the alarmist.” He kissed her on the cheek as she passed by with the basin, and left the door open behind her. “Thanks, love, I knew I could count on you.”
“Is Jeannie your wife?” Katy inquired when he turned back to her.
The gentleman laughed. He had a fine, bold laugh.
He was a fine, bold-looking man. Not quite so handsome as Galen, but handsome enough in his own way. Dark hair, dark eyes, with a crooked grin that was as wicked as it was winsome.
“Jeannie’s a good friend. She works for me.”
“Sure, and that’s what I came to talk to you about—work. That and to give back your money, for I never earned it, but first, sir, would you mind closing the door?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”
The kitten had finished the milk and was exploring the cabin. If she got out, she’d be the very devil to catch, for she was wild as could be.
He closed the door, tugged at the knot of his tie, and Katy cleared her throat. She dug out the two paper dollars and thrust them at him, and then launched into the brief speech she’d rehearsed on the way to his boat, before she’d tripped over Heather and been knocked off her feet by that ragged pair of young rascals.
She was just getting to the part about how she was a hard worker, and could read, write, cipher, and sew, and had plans to own her own business one day, when someone knocked on the door.
Jack Bellfort, a look of amusement on his face, said, “Excuse me, darling, let me get rid of whoever this is, and we’ll talk about what you can do for me.”
Chapter Eight
It was a sight to gladden a maiden’s heart, two such fine, handsome gentlemen, one dark, the other golden, with eyes as blue as Moy River on a fair summer’s day. Katy’s mouth hung open until she remembered to shut it.
“McKnight, welcome aboard,” Jack Bellfort said expansively, right hand outstretched. “Come to scout out the competition?”
“Come to retrieve my property,” Galen said evenly. Not once did he look directly at Katy, yet she knew as well as she knew her own name that he was aware of her presence.
“This scruffy creature belongs to you?”
Her eyes widened. She’d seen lightning blast a stone wide open in less time than it took Galen to react. Ignoring the outthrust hand, he grabbed hold of the other man’s cravat, practically lifting him onto his toes. In a voice made all the more dangerous for being little more than a whisper he said, “If you’ve laid a finger on her, Bellfort, you’ll answer to me.”
Katy waited for the captain of the Albemarle Belle to explode.
Instead, he began to chuckle. Slowly, Galen loosened his grip. When his hand fell to his side, Jack straightened his necktie and nodded toward a chair. “Simmer down, man, all I did was offer her a drink. Under all that grime and matted hair, how was I supposed to know she was your lady?”
Without a bit of warning, Galen’s fist shot out, catching Bellfort on the jaw. The captain of the Albemarle Belle staggered, but managed to catch himself on a nearby bookcase.
Galen grimaced and rubbed his knuckles.
Katy covered her mouth with both hands.
Bellfort righted himself, moved his jaw experimentally, and said in a voice smooth as silk, “If I were you, man, I’d take better care of my property. The world’s a dangerous place for someone as innocent as our kitty here.” He scooped the filthy yellow kitten from halfway up the velvet draperies, where it had been clinging by its claws. “Finished your cream, have you, love?”
Galen looked from Katy to the tiny animal twisting and hissing at the end of Bellfort’s outstretched hand, and back again. His eyes narrowed. “Tell me the truth, Katy, did Bellfort touch you? If he so much as laid a finger on you, he’ll curse the day he was born, I promise you that.”
“I believe you’ve said quite enough, McKnight.” Carefully, Bellfort handed the kitten to Katy.
“Aye, he touched me, but— Galen, stop that! Don’t you dare strike that poor man again, he was only trying to help.” She uttered a Gaelic curse.
Both men stared at her, making her wish she’d held her tongue. Bellfort recovered first. “Poor man?” he murmured ruefully. “Gad, I feel insulted myself.”
The kitten, who’d had quite enough of it all, jumped from Katy’s lap and scrambled under a small table covered in a fringed tapestry cloth. The cloth began to slide, and the three of them watched, immobile, as two glasses and a crystal decanter crashed to the floor.
“Well, hell.” The plaintive remark came from Jack Bellfort.
“Would somebody mind telling me what the devil is going on?” Galen’s plea was directed to Bellfort, but it was Katy who replied.
“Behave yourselves, the pair of you. For all I might be small and scruffy, I don’t belong to either of you.”
When both men tried to speak at once, Katy cut them off with another Gaelic oath. She wasn’t sure of the precise meaning, but she’d heard it from her father often enough when he came stumbling home after a night of drinking and brawling with his mates.
Turning to Jack, she said, “As for you, sir, I gave back your money. Now that we’re even, I’ve another favor to ask of you.”
Bellfort shot Galen a smug look, his crow black eyes gleaming with amusement. “Anything, love, you’ve but to name it.”
“But first”—she turned to Galen—“I want you to understand that I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me and mine, and I’ll not let you down, I promise. I agreed to take Sally’s place until Miss Tyler can find someone better, but I’ve only myself to depend on, so I’d best be about finding something more permanent. Ila said there’s work to be had aboard Captain Bellfort’s boat, and I mean to have me a go at it.”
She turned back to Bellfort, awaiting his response. Had she left out anything that needed saying? She tried to be fair and aboveboard in all her dealings. It saved trouble in the end, and trouble was one thing she could do without.
She waited. The sharp scent of whiskey tickled her nostrils, reminding her that she’d not taken time to eat more than a bite of breakfast. Here in this fancy room, surrounded by all these fancy furnishings, with two fancy gentlemen staring at her as if she had oats growing from her ears, she wondered if she might’ve bitten off more than she could swallow.
It wouldn’t be the first time. She could hear her father saying plain as day, Katy, me girl, ye’d best try the river before ye go leapin’ into the current.
Too late, Da, I fear I’m in over my head.
“The lady is working for me, Bellfort,” Galen said
flatly. “Katy, what happened to your face?”
“She got scratched. I’ve already taken care of it, and the lady doesn’t have to work for you, McKnight. I’ve already hired her to work for me.”
“Doing what?” Galen jeered. “Handing out more leaflets?”
Bellfort’s mouth twitched. He was far enough away so that Katy could see him quite clearly. “That was a dirty trick, I’ll admit. If I’d thought it through, I’d never have set her up, but knowing Aster was due in today, I couldn’t resist.” Looking at Katy, he added, “Sorry, love. I’ll explain if—”
“Cut it out, Bellfort, I don’t need you to explain anything. Come on, Katy, let’s go.”
“The lady is staying. As I said before, she’s working for me. I’ve hired her to take Addie’s place.”
“Addie?” Katy repeated.
“My chanteuse.”
“But I don’t know anything about—about chantoosing.”
Bellfort’s smile held both warmth and amusement. “Addle is a songster. That is, she sings here on Friday and Saturday evenings. Unfortunately, she recently came down with a dose of—that is, a case of—well, never mind that. I’ve been looking for a replacement.”
“Oh, but—” Katy tried to interrupt, and was ignored for her troubles.
“Miss O’Sullivan is not a singer. She’ll be working under my supervision, selling cigars at night and helping Ila during the day.”
“Now, that would be a sheer waste of beauty and talent. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard the lady sing?” Bellfort breathed on his manicured nails and then buffed them on the lapel of his white linen coat. “Tell me this, Katy, my love, do you play the piano as well as you sing?”
Katy stared at first one man and then the other. She couldn’t believe they were arguing over her. Not that either man truly wanted her, it was simply the way men were. Let a one of them plant his boot on a hummock, and along would come another one to knock him off and take his place.
Galen looked as if he’d bitten into a lemon and his teeth had locked together. Katy took the opportunity to speak for herself. “My mother played the harp, but Da sold—that is, I didn’t bring it with me.”
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