The Raven's Revenge

by Gina Black

  “James suggested I ask Nicholas for a formal separation. I have not wanted to see him.” She sighed, realizing that was not the truth at all. She wanted to see him desperately, and just as desperately was afraid that just a glimpse of his twinkling blue eyes would melt the wall of ice she had built around her heart. “I have not wanted to help him, but I will do what is right and declare I was not abducted. I hope the courts believe me.”

  Jeremy smiled. “I will stand by you and help you in any way you wish. Dear Katherine, I have always loved you for doing what is right.”

  Katherine prayed she did so now.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  KATHERINE EXAMINED THE WOMAN looking back at her in the small hand mirror. Dark circles framed her tired eyes. Lips drawn in a firm line made her look grim. She pinched a bit of color into her cheeks and tried relaxing her mouth into a smile, but it did not reach her eyes.

  Today she would go to Nicholas, tell him about the baby and ask him for a formal separation and support. In return, she would testify that she had not been abducted.

  She would not smile at him, or touch him, or suffer his touch, nor reveal her feelings to him in any way, for she had discovered she could not keep the ice around her heart. She yet loved the man, though she would not trust him again.

  So, she would speak to him, urge him, if necessary, to do what was right and then go.

  If only it would be so!

  Katherine glared at herself in the mirror and put it down. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

  Jeremy accompanied her to the hackney coach waiting outside. They rode in silence on the short trip through the narrow London streets to the great fortress. He paid the driver and helped her out. Assuming a brotherly air of protection, he steered her through the crowd of gawkers and hawkers that thronged in front of the barbican.

  The scaffold on Tower Hill stood quiet. Set against gray skies with a chill wind blowing off the Thames, the scene filled her with foreboding. Katherine clasped her nervous hands together inside her warm cloak.

  A Yeoman Warder allowed them entrance and led them on the long walk into the complex. Inside was a hotchpotch of buildings. A series of towers guarded the perimeter. Several large ravens strutted on the green. As they followed the guard across the inner ward past workers and soldiers, Katherine shivered and tightened her cloak.

  Entering one of the stone towers, they climbed a dark narrow staircase. At the end of a short corridor, the jailer unlocked a door for them. “Visitors,” he barked, and stepped aside.

  Katherine took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomach. She stepped forward, motioning Jeremy to follow, but he shook his head. She would be on her own for this interview. Raising her chin, she pulled herself to her full height and entered the room. The door swung shut behind her with a thud.

  Nicholas turned from the narrow window. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room. Expecting Henry, he was surprised to see the outline of a woman in a familiar cloak. As she stepped toward him, his heart made a small elated leap.

  “Katherine?” He walked toward her, hand outstretched.

  But she did not raise her hand in return.

  Sadly, he let his hand fall as he came to stand before her. He tried to search her face, but her head was set well inside her hood and tilted down. Only her nose and the firm line of her mouth were visible.

  So it was not to be a friendly visit, but of course he knew that. He did not expect her to forgive him, and he had done nothing to make amends. Nicholas simply did not know what to do. He did not understand the feelings he had for Katherine, or her love for him. It paralyzed him, and left him afraid of losing the very thing he had lost. But whatever her reason for coming, he was glad to see her.

  “Will you sit?” he asked, pointing to the room’s one stool. Henry had offered to bring more furniture, but Nicholas had turned him down. Now he was sorry. He wanted to offer her more than a three-legged stool.

  Katherine shook her head. “I am comfortable standing,” she said, her voice as stiff as her body.

  Nicholas nodded, wanting to see her eyes, willing her to raise her head so he could see if they were cold, hurt, or angry. Or—worse—if they showed no feeling at all. Tension mounting, he waited for her to speak.

  “I am with child,” she said, her gaze rising to his.

  As their eyes connected and the meaning of her words settled into him, a hot flash ran through him.

  A baby.

  Nicholas swallowed. His legs were as unsteady as if he’d taken a blow to the stomach. Yearning pierced his heart, destroying it completely, yet at the same time leaving it whole and pounding fiercely in his chest. The small room seemed even smaller, the thick stone walls moving in by feet. Then he remembered to breathe, and joy flooded his veins, tempered by a great bolt of fear. “A child. Our child.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I-I-am astonished. Though I should not be.”

  “I have come to ask you…” she paused, dropping her head down so he could not see her eyes again. “Nay, I have come to beseech you to grant me a formal separation, with an income for the baby and me.”

  Nicholas breathed deep enough to make his ribs ache. “Please, Katherine. Do sit. I find I must, and wish you would as well. This news and your request are most unexpected. You must give me a moment.”

  She inclined her head in assent and perched on the stool.

  Nicholas took his seat on the bed. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. Could he be dreaming? Katherine had come to see him. She had brought him joyous news, and then dashed it just as fast. His heart constricted.

  “I wish only well for you and the babe.” Nicholas swallowed. “I want to be a part of my child’s life—and yours—for as long as I am still possessed of mine.”

  “No.” Her lips pulled into a firm line. “You are out of my life and that of the baby. Should you not grant this separation, my only recourse is to annul our marriage. The charges against you for my abduction would be dropped, but I would be forced to wed Richard Finch, since the only grounds for annulment are to state there was a prior contract. This is unacceptable to me, and I would not do it if I had an alternative.”

  Nichols felt his blood rise. “I would not have you marry Finch. Not before, and not now. Nor would I allow that man to raise my child. It is out of the question.”

  She nodded, aware she had prevailed, and pulled her hood off. Her expression was taut, not triumphant, her eyes tired. Her hair had been pulled back tight, giving her the severe look of the Puritan Katherine he had met. Gone was his Katherine, the Katherine of the Hawk and Pheasant, the Katherine he dreamed about at night, and whose image came to him when he could not sleep.

  The Katherine who sat before him was a Katherine unknown to him, hard and cold. For a moment, he wondered if it was because of the babe.

  Then the shattering truth revealed itself.

  He had done this. He had changed her, extinguished her warmth, turned her flesh into marble. Of all the crimes he had committed, this was the most heinous. He had destroyed her sweetness. He had killed her love.

  “I would make a bargain with you,” she said, her lips moving without a hint of kindness. “I will do what is right, if you do what is right. I will testify that you did not abduct me, if you sign the separation papers.”

  She proposed a trade he could in no way refuse. Once the charges for abduction were dropped, he had only the accusations against the Raven to face. Nicholas rubbed the wound from Finch’s bullet—the injury that had brought them together and ended his misbegotten career as a highwayman.

  Katherine once asked what would have happened if she had not found him in the cottage. It was a question he asked himself often these days. The more he had thought, the more he became convinced that they came together for a reason. Perhaps the reason was the baby.

  He cleared his throat. “I spend my days in quiet solitude. I watch the river out my window and count barges as they go by. And I t
hink. Was it fate that brought me here? Or did I arrive here of my own free will?”

  Katherine pursed her lips and shook her head.

  “I do not think to release myself from responsibility for my actions—especially to you, dear Katherine. I did treat you most unfairly. For that I am heartily sorry.” He sighed. “I wonder this because as I stand to lose my life, I think about its purpose. Do you believe in fate?”

  Katherine blinked and shook her head. For a moment, he thought that was her answer, but then she spoke. “Grandfather would say God foreordains all things. Even though ’tis blasphemy for me to say this, I have sometimes wondered if that can be true. How could God keep track of us all? And what is the point of our lives if ’tis predestined? And why would I think I have a choice if I do not?”

  “I have been thinking the same. Yet, I have such a strong sense that fate brought us together. Did destiny guide you to me? Would I have survived without your good care? Is there some divine purpose in our meeting? Or was it merely a fortuitous event that you chanced upon me?” Nicholas sighed. “From the moment I saw you wore my lucky piece, I felt fortune had cast us together.”

  “Your what?”

  “The Chinese coin you wore around your neck. ’Twas mine long ago when I lived at Ashfield.”

  Katherine shook her head. “I had not thought of that—your being a boy there. I suppose all those other bits that Edward and I found were yours as well?”

  Nicholas nodded.

  “And the initials? There are five of them. I thought ’twas for two people.”

  “No, they are mine: Nicholas Edward Henry Philip Montford. I was four-years of age before I could keep them straight, seven before I was able to spell them.”

  Katherine looked him in the eye. “I do not think I have been lucky for you. As to whether fate or a thunderstorm brought us together, I think it matters naught. What matters is what will happen now.”

  Nicholas nodded. He had no choice. He had trapped himself. Should he survive, he could not have her. But he would not let anyone else have her either. Even were it not for the babe that grew in her, he would never sanction an annulment. The words came out painfully. “I will consent to the separation. I will sign an agreement that provides an income for you and the baby.”

  “Good. It is the best answer.” Katherine stood up.

  Nicholas rose with her.

  She pulled the hood over her head. “I will send the papers. Once they are signed, I will provide my testimony. Richard Finch will not like that. He may try to discredit me. He has a letter you wrote to my father offering to trade me for Ashfield.”

  Nicholas winced. No wonder she hated him so. He should never have written that letter. The idea had been a stupid one to begin with.

  “I did not mean to hurt you, Katherine. If I had it to do over again—“

  “You would do it differently?” She shook her head. “I think not, Nicholas. I think you have made your own rules for too long, not having to consider the wishes of anyone but yourself. You cannot blame that on fate.”

  Katherine walked to the door and rapped on it twice.

  From the other side a key rattled in the lock, and then the door heaved open.

  “I bid you good day,” she said, and swept out. The door closed behind her with a resounding clunk.

  Nicholas stood quiet and still as the sound of footsteps echoed down the staircase with an awesome finality.

  A queer ache spread through him. Panic seized his heart. He wanted to call her back and plead with her to stay, so he could warm her coldness and ease the responsibility he had left her to shoulder alone. Just one last time he wished to hear her say she loved him.

  And he wished to tell her the same.

  Could it be? Was this what love felt like?

  He could not breathe. Pain radiated from his chest through his belly to his fingers and toes. Did love feel like a crushing blow?

  Nicholas dropped to the stool where Katherine had sat, gripping his chest where his heart beat.

  He had not been close enough to inhale her special fragrance. She had left naught behind—no keepsake for him to hold through the days and nights that spread before him. No promise she would return.

  Nicholas lowered his head, suddenly too heavy for his body to bear. He would fulfill his part of the bargain whither or no she did hers.

  A baby and heir. How proud and happy his father would have been, knowing his grandchild would have possession of the family lands. Nicholas should be happy too. Instead, he felt like his heart had been pulled from his chest and thrown into the icy Thames below.

  Too late.

  He had come to realize he loved her too late.

  * * *

  Katherine took a steadying breath. She smoothed her hands down her grey linen skirt, more to gain her composure than to straighten the fabric. Richard Finch had called twice in the past week. She had sent word both times that she was indisposed. But she could not do that indefinitely. Mustering her resolve, she stepped into the sitting room.

  He looked her up and down. Without any preliminaries, he spoke, his voice cutting into her like a knife. “What is this I hear? Your father informs me you will not be getting an annulment.”

  The cloying perfume on his gloves evoked memories of their skirmish in the coach. Her stomach was so sensitive these days, Katherine dropped onto a chair trying not to gag.

  He came to stand before her, too close as always, his eyes glaring down at her, his periwig bobbing back and forth as he nodded impatiently, waiting for her answer.

  She breathed in short gasps of air, trying to evade the pervading scent. “’Twould not be to my benefit to have an annulment, so I have decided not to.” That was the truth, although not all of it. She had not told her father about the baby, nor would she tell Finch. They would have to remain ignorant of that change in her circumstances until her body no longer kept it secret.

  Finch smirked. “I am surprised you have the courage to be the instrument of his death, dear Katherine.”

  “I shall be no such thing.” She clasped her hands together in her lap as she struggled for composure.

  “Have I not been clear? He will hang for your abduction.”

  Katherine looked away.

  “Do you think to testify in his defense? Aha! That is your plan.” He had the self-satisfied tone of a person who has just discovered someone else’s secret. “With the evidence of the letter, the court will not believe you.”

  Katherine looked up at him. “’Tis the truth.”

  “Many an innocent man has gone to the gallows. I think the crowd likes it all the more when a man insists he is not guilty as the noose is placed around his neck and his life is ever so slowly wrung from him.”

  Katherine gasped. Her stomach lurched. She thought she might be sick.

  “Once he is dead, we shall be wed.” Finch nodded.

  “We will not,” she said taking in a lungful of air. “My father is in favor of my marriage. I think he would defend it in court.”

  “Do not forget, I have a letter to your father that is very telling. The court will not believe him; they will believe the letter. And,” he drew the word out, “I am prepared to present witnesses that will attest to your abduction.”

  Katherine gasped. “There can be no witnesses. ’Twas not an abduction.”

  “Do not misjudge me, Katherine. I do what is necessary to get what is mine.”

  “I am not yours now, nor have I ever been.”

  The words were strong, but Katherine’s stomach roiled.

  * * *

  Nicholas held the quill pen suspended over the inkwell, trying to gather his thoughts. He had composed the letter twice in his mind, but now that he was ready to commit pen to paper the words flew away.

  He had gotten himself into much trouble these last weeks with letter writing. But this letter would be different. It would ease his mind, and safeguard that which he held most precious.

  Stretching to ease the cramp betwe
en his shoulders, he dipped the pen into the ink and began to write.

  To His Majesty the King of England, Scotland, France and Ireland,

  I write to you from the Tower where I have been incarcerated and await trial for crimes as a highwayman and abduction of an heiress, as no doubt your ministers have informed you.

  I humbly beg the King’s mercy for another matter. I married a woman without your leave. Although my motives in befriending her were selfish, I have since come to love this woman. Because of my own foolishness, I have lost her. My greatest regret is that I came to know my heart too late. If it is my fate to pay for these crimes with my life, I will go to the gallows willingly, to avoid the worst punishment of all. I cannot live without her love.

  Although I do not deserve it, I most humbly beg a boon from your Majesty. I leave behind a wife and child who may find themselves in need of a friend. Once you did call me that. It is my dearest wish you might consider them as such in my absence.

  I remain your Majesty’s most humble and obedient servant,

  NEHPM The Earl of Ashton

  * * *

  Katherine spent the better part of the next two days in the garden trying to regain her sense of calm. This all scattered when she entered the kitchen to find Jeremy and Henry in hushed conversation. Henry stood when he saw her.

  “Glad I am to see you, Lady Ashton.”

  Katherine nodded at the older man. In clean well-cut clothing, he looked almost dapper. “You look much improved.”

  “Aye, I am.” Henry nodded, but did not smile. “If ye would grant me an audience, I would speak to ye about my master.”

  Katherine’s heart dropped. Was it more bad news? “Let us talk in the garden.”

  They left Jeremy and went outside. The air was brisk, the sky grey. Katherine hoped it might rain. She could use a good drenching, to extinguish this fever that rushed through her every time she thought of Nicholas.