The Raven's Revenge

by Gina Black

  Katherine shuddered and closed her eyes. Her stomach lurched anew. She tasted blood and realized she’d bit into her lip.

  Loud yells came from a distance. Feet pounded on the cobblestones.

  Alicia’s voice came to her, calm and steady. Katherine could feel her cousin’s capable hands take hold of her and urge her up. “The constables are here now. You must come inside.”

  Supporting Katherine, she led her to the door.

  Katherine grabbed hold of the doorframe. “I cannot leave them. I must do something.” She wiped her tears on the end of her apron.

  “We can do nothing for your husband until the authorities have sorted this out. As soon as possible we will see to him and the others, I promise.”

  Of course, Alicia was right. Katherine allowed her cousin to escort her inside. Heart pounding, she returned to the window. Although she couldn’t hear Finch, it was clear from his gestures he explained what had happened in a way that put his actions in a positive light. The stance of the newcomers changed from challenging to interested, and Katherine knew they believed whatever lies they were told.

  He didn’t need to lie. The truth about Nicholas would put him in jail.

  Katherine convulsed as a sob hit her. The clatter of wheels on the cobblestones outside broke into her misery, and she opened her eyes to see a coach pull up.

  One of the constables helped Jakes lift Nicholas and dump him into the vehicle. Finch climbed in. The constable and Jakes got up front with the driver. The thugs took their place at the rear, and they were off, leaving Jeremy and Henry behind.

  Katherine’s heart constricted when the vehicle rumbled out of view.

  Alicia pulled her into a hug as uncontrollable sobs wracked her frame. Katherine breathed in her cousin’s comforting smell of lemon verbena and porridge while her anguish cried its way down to a sodden whimper.

  Outside the window, the butler and the remaining constable helped Jeremy and Henry to their feet and brought them inside.

  Katherine broke from Alicia’s embrace and they walked to the kitchen. She dried her face before joining the men who sat—a sorry twosome—on stools before the fire. New bruises would join Jeremy’s old ones, but he had not fought long enough to be injured as badly as the older man.

  Henry held his jaw like it might fall off if he let go. It took some convincing before he allowed Alicia to probe, but the mighty blow had loosened the offending tooth to such a great degree that a trip to the barber was no longer necessary.

  While Alicia prepared to remove the molar, Katherine tended to Jeremy, cleaning away dirt and applying bandages and salve. They did not speak; Katherine could not. The tears would return if she gave them a chance and she did not want to cry, not for Nicholas and not now. She took a deep breath and willed her pain to wait until she was alone.

  Jeremy took her hand and squeezed.

  Alicia assembled a pair of pliers and several clean pieces of linen on the table beside Henry.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  He nodded and made two fists in his lap.

  Katherine avoided his gaze, and slid her free hand over his calloused one. He opened his palm and took her fingers in a firm grip.

  The three of them formed a chain, a bond of shared experience, compassion, and strength.

  Alicia murmured, leaning into Henry.

  The room was quiet and still as they all held their breaths. Henry’s grasp grew stronger and stronger. Katherine’s fingers turned red.

  Alicia made a swift yank. Henry’s head jerked forward and the tooth came out.

  Henry groaned, whether from pain or relief Katherine could not tell. She and Jeremy both exhaled.

  Henry gave her a short nod and unfolded his fingers, flexing them and rubbing hers while she pulled her hand away.

  Jeremy let go her other hand.

  Katherine felt bereft without their contact.

  “’Tis good the tooth came away so easily and in one piece,” Alicia ran a hand across her forehead. “I had some worry it would not.”

  As Henry started to rise, she stayed him with her hands on his shoulders. “You must sit here for the nonce,” she instructed. “Keep the linen in your mouth and do not talk for the next few minutes. I would not want you fainting in my kitchen.”

  She looked up, a sudden frown on her brow. “What do you suppose the children are doing? ’Tis very quiet. That does not bode well. I cannot imagine the abigail has them under control. I fear they are up to some mischief.”

  “Go,” said Katherine. “I will clean up.”

  Alicia nodded. But she took the wad of bloody linen from Henry’s mouth and had him bite down on a new one before she left.

  Henry balefully eyed the tooth. “Thith a sma thing to meke tho muth twouble fo a man.”

  Katherine shook her head. “Do not speak.”

  “Buh I muth thay I yam thoddy, m’Lady.”

  “Please do not apologize, Henry. And when ’tis all right for you to speak again, you must address me as you did once, as Katherine, or Mistress.”

  Henry grunted.

  Jeremy nodded. “I am sorry as well, Mistress, for what has happened here today.”

  “’Twas not your doing, Jeremy. ’Tis for me to apologize. I am sorry for the pain I have caused you, twice now. And you, too.” She put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I am to blame.”

  Henry patted the hand on his shoulder.

  Jeremy spoke. “’Twas not your fault, Mistress.”

  “I can only think you say this because you are a true friend.” She sighed, letting her hand drop from Henry’s shoulder. “You left Ashfield because of me. You have been in two fights because of me. That does not make me a good friend, I fear. And now what? Where will you go? What will you do? I cannot think my cousin will mind if you both stay here while you recuperate.”

  “I had thought to find myself work at a stables, or mayhap at an inn as a hostler.” Jeremy put his hand to his chest and grimaced. “Mayhap I shall wait a bit.”

  Henry brought himself slowly to standing, as if testing each bone and muscle in the process. Shoulders back, he spat the wad of linen into his hand. “I shall see to my master,” he said and threw the bloody mess into the fire.

  A sob caught in Katherine’s throat. She blinked hard and took a deep breath to keep back the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.

  Henry eyed her as if he understood. “You take care of the lad until he is well enough.”

  When he had shuffled out, Jeremy spoke. “I will protect you now,” he said. “Master Finch knows where to find you. Perhaps he will leave you alone now you are married, but I think not. We do not know how or why he came to be here.”

  Katherine frowned. She had assumed he had found Nicholas and followed him here, waiting for the right moment to get his revenge for the earlier humiliation. But, what if he’d been laying in wait and Nicholas came along, walking into a trap really meant for her? A shiver ran through her.

  She was trapped. More trapped than she had ever been at Ashfield. Raw pain stabbed through her, and she blinked hard to push back the tears that came with it.

  At least she had a friend, someone she could trust, who had never failed to have her best interests at heart.

  She turned back to him. “Jeremy, I cannot thank you enough for your loyalty. My heart aches so, yet your friendship gives me ease. Someday I will find a way to repay your kindness.”

  Jeremy made an awkward smile.

  * * *

  Katherine spent the next days in a numb fog. She held off her emotions by making lists and marking things off as they got done. She wiped dirty noses and insisted on clean hands before meals. She haggled with the fish seller and prevailed upon the costermonger to provide fresher vegetables.

  For the first time in her life, Katherine found scant satisfaction in regular domestic chores. Washing, ironing and baking assumed the proportions of tyranny. No matter how well they got done, they would need to be repeated in just a matter of days. L
ong, endless days. With the joy wrenched from her life, how was she to make her way through them?

  The Pembertons provided the warm and happy household she had always longed for, but her new life did not fill her heart. Instead, that organ ached with a constant piercing throb. In idle moments, Nicholas’s face would come to her, with his twinkling eyes, and full expressive mouth, causing other parts of her to ache as well. Then the pain of his betrayal would hit her in a hot rush, leaving her stunned and hurt, but still wanting.

  Of him, there was no news.

  Even though Alicia had insisted Jeremy stay with them while he healed, Katherine saw little of him. He spent his days exploring London. She wondered if he saw Nicholas and did not tell her, but she had not the courage to ask.

  One afternoon Jeremy returned bearing a small basket.

  “Montford!” Katherine cried then clapped a hand over her mouth at the name.

  She did not want to care what had happened to Nicholas, but she did. Wouldn’t he be able to talk his way out of the charges and use his noble status to secure his release? He was an expert charmer, but would that work in jail? Even if it didn’t, he had no compunction against using people to get what he wanted. Katherine felt certain that, like Montford, he would land on his feet.

  But what if he did not?

  This question tormented her in the dark, quiet hours before dawn, when the pain of his betrayal and the humiliation of her misplaced love was fresh and sharp. Tired and weak, she could not push away her worries. Would they brand him on the face and send him to the colonies? Or might they see his actions as treason, and hang him until dead?

  And why was it not a crime that he had broken her heart?

  But Katherine already knew the answer to that: because men ruled the world, and they had no hearts.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  HAL AND ROBBIE ran into the kitchen, almost knocking into Katherine in their haste to find her.

  “A man is here to see you,” Hal announced breathlessly.

  “One of the sword fighting men,” Robbie added.

  Katherine wiped flour from her hands onto her apron.

  Nicholas?

  Here?

  Her heart fluttered and then crashed into her stomach. She raised a hand to her breast. Had he come to apologize? Ask her forgiveness? But how had he gotten away from Finch and the authorities?

  “I will be there anon,” she told the boys. They scurried off to tell the butler.

  Disappointment washed over her when she entered the sitting room. Then fear took its place. It was not Nicholas’s tall muscular form that greeted her, but Richard Finch’s smaller one. He stood in the center of the room, dressed immaculately, periwig perched atop his head. His face had been powdered white, no doubt in a futile effort to disguise his bruised and swollen nose.

  “Let me speak plainly,” he said as soon as she entered the room. “Your lover is in Newgate awaiting trial. The blackguard said you married him. Did you know he could very well hang for the crime of abduction?”

  Katherine trembled at the shock of Finch’s accusation.

  He stepped toward her. “So you did not know. ’Tis a very serious crime. As a highwayman he could lose an ear, be branded on the cheek, or be sentenced to hard labor. It is possible he would hang. But for abduction it would be a surety.” He stepped toward her again. “If you stay married to him, it will sentence him to death. And I, for one, would happily see him come to his end flapping on the end of a rope,” his smile was more like a sneer, “and you a widow.” He stepped forward again, until he was just inches from her, and took her chin in his hand. “Are you willing to be the cause of his death, dear Katherine?”

  She swallowed hard, staring back, unwilling to let him see how he intimidated her.

  His eyes glinted. “No, I can see you are not.” He brought his mouth to hover above hers. She could feel his hot breath on her lips. His fingers pressed into her jaw. She wanted to pull away, but knew he did this to torment her and that to react would invite further persecution.

  He brushed his lips over hers then pulled away, dropping his hand.

  “On the other hand, you could petition for a decree of nullity stating the marriage was not valid. If granted, the charges will be dropped and he could live.” He looked her up and down boldly. “Is there any chance you did not consummate the union?”

  Katherine flushedt.

  He shook his head and his eyes went hard. “No, I thought not. Whether he lives or dies, you will be sorry for not saving yourself for me.”

  “I will never marry you,” Katherine said, her voice strong.

  “Ah, dear Katherine. I thought you understood. Your only grounds for annulment would be to acknowledge our marriage contract.”

  “I never agreed to marry you.”

  Finch straightened a ruffled cuff. “But I think you will agree to it now to save your lover’s life.”

  He stepped back from her and took a folded paper from his inside pocket. “If you have any doubts about his regard for you, perchance you should read this.” He held it out to her.

  Unwillingly, she took the paper from Finch’s hand. Addressed to her father, it was from Nicholas, and dated a few weeks prior. He offered to trade her and a lot of money for Ashfield. Each word, like a knife, pierced deep into her heart.

  Where had he penned it? Salisbury? Devizes? She had known he had played her false, but to hold the proof in her hand was shattering. Since the beginning, he had toyed with her, telling her he protected her, yet he had used her instead.

  “See you now the man you married? Know you now his true regard? He does not want you. But I do.” Finch took the paper from her limp fingers. “Revenge, dear Katherine, can be most satisfying. Examine your heart. Perhaps you would wish to see him dead?”

  * * *

  The shaking began as soon as Finch left. Katherine stumbled through the house in a blur before finding herself out the kitchen door, and in the garden.

  Alternating between anger and regret, she railed at her image of Nicholas with his twinkling blue eyes, and full-lipped smile.

  How could he, as the Raven, seek to expose the true nature of others, yet so despicably conceal his own?

  What an irritating duplicitous man!

  But could she condemn him to death? Could she watch him pay the consequences of his actions without trying to aid him? Could she take revenge upon him for the harm he had done to her? Or, since she had saved his life once, was she now obligated to do what she could to preserve it?

  Katherine let out a great heaving sigh and wiped her hands on the back of her apron, surprised to see them covered with dirt. Looking about, she discovered she was on her knees, a pile of weeds beside her. The dirt below the rosemary and sage bushes was now clear.

  The door behind her opened, and Annie slid through it. The little girl plopped down next to her. Thumb in mouth, she put her other hand into Katherine’s.

  “Would you like me to show you how to tend the garden?” Katherine said to the sweet face beside her.

  Annie nodded.

  “You have to be able to tell the good plants from the bad plants,” she said, thinking how nice it would be if she could do the same with people. She showed the girl which weeds to pull. They worked together until a good part of the herb garden was clear of most of the wild growth.

  Katherine sat back on her haunches and brushed the dirt off her hands. Working in a garden always acted as a healing balm. While her hands had worked, she had come to a decision. In spite of what Nicholas had done, she could not be the instrument of his death, nor contribute to it.

  She would have to get an annulment.

  Then she would have to do whatever she could to escape marriage with Finch, which put her back where she started.

  But this time, she would find an escape on her own.

  * * *

  Nicholas woke cold and in pain. Had he heard someone call his name?

  Eyes still closed, he rolled onto his back. The chill
hard floor provided no comfort to his battered body and he liked it that way. The pain was a constant reminder of the mistakes he had made; the lies he had spawned, the heart he had broken.

  “Nicky!”

  He heard it again. The voice called louder, sounding very much like Henry. Nicholas groaned. He did not want to see Henry. Henry would want to help him, and he did not deserve to be helped. He deserved to be left to die.

  Except, if he was going to die, he would probably have done so by now. Instead, he already felt the subtle and unwelcome signs that his body was healing.

  “There he is. I see him.” Henry’s voice rose above the din and chatter.

  Nicholas opened an eye. He lay in a corner of the felon’s ward. The other inhabitants were scattered about. They had ceased to pay him any mind once they had taken all he had of value. He’d offered no resistance as they took his boots, coat, and shirt. They’d not taken his breeches. Maybe there was some code of honor here at Newgate. Or maybe his breeches would have had to be torn to bits to get them past his fetters.

  He inhaled a painful breath. At least one rib had been broken. Finch had probably meant to kill him. Nicholas wondered why he hadn’t.

  He remembered little of the fight, and wished to remember nothing before that. Especially not the hurt and indignation on Katherine’s face when she had dropped his lucky piece on the ground. Now it was gone. He must have lost it sometime during the fight or here at Newgate. And it seemed his luck had gone with it.

  “What a sorry sight ye be, but glad I am to have found you.”

  Nicholas turned his head and was hit by a wave of dizziness as he looked up a long pair of legs to see Henry smiling down at him.

  “Not I,” he croaked at his old steward.

  “No.” Henry shook his head. “You’re goin’ to have to face up to it, lad. You’re not just responsible for yerself now. Ye have a wife.”

  Nicholas turned his face away.

  “Get up, Nicky, or I’ll get you up. I’ve paid your garnish and ye’ll be movin’ to a better cell. We’ll clean ye up and get yer wounds tended. And then ye will figure out what ye’re going to do next.”