“I am the mother of your daughter. Apparently Lyntje and I are unimportant to you.”
She eyed him coldly, distastefully, and turned her back to him. Cort reached out again for her, fearing he was losing her but unable to tell her that he was laying a trap for Katrina. He didn’t want Wynter involved, didn’t want her to know to what lengths he might be forced to go to get an admission of guilt from Katrina. As it looked now, Katrina was ready to permanently move into Lindenwyck again, conveniently forgetting that she had promised to live elsewhere. In fact, she seemed to expect Cort to divorce Wynter and marry her.
“Don’t turn away from me. I hate when you do that.”
“Do you? Well, my dear husband, it seems that as long as you court Katrina, you will get used to seeing my back.”
Forcing her to face him, he gently touched her lips with his fingertips. “I love only you.”
A melting sensation invaded Wynter’s legs, and she leaned weakly against him. “I want to believe you. Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
“I promise.”
The words sprang so easily to his mouth that Wynter wondered why she didn’t feel comforted. But she stopped her musings, in fact ceased to think at all, when Cort picked her up and carried her to the bed. His lips kissed, his tongue moved wantonly across every inch of her body. His touch inflamed her, caused her body to feel on fire, made her senses reel with eagerness for his possession of her. Her fingers flew to his pants, helped to remove them after he had taken off her nightrail. By the time he slid inside of her and her body welcomed his hardness, her softness trembled and undulated in waves of exquisite ecstasy.
“Couldn’t wait?” he whispered huskily into her ear.
Her arms entwined tighter around his neck. Gentle fingers tangled in the tiny golden curls at the nape of his neck. “I’m always hungry for you, Cort.”
“And I for you, my hungry tigress.” He nibbled her lower lip, then his mouth moved to her nipples which received the same gentle tugging. Moaning again, she allowed herself to be inundated by her renewed passion. But this time she pushed at him until he rolled onto his back and she was on top. He gasped in pleasure when she took his length into her. She rode the crest of desire as wave after wave of rapture washed over her. Cort’s hands sought her breasts, taking each one in his hands. His husky groans echoed in the quiet room and mingled with her moans of pleasure. When the last wave broke within her, practically swallowing her in its intensity, Cort pulled her tight against him. With a powerful thrust, they spiraled into the glorious, calm ocean of fulfillment.
Wynter woke the next morning and viewed the world in a gold-tinged haze. Everything looked glowing and bright. Love coursed warmly through her, and though Cort had risen earlier and her hand stroked the now cold sheets, her body still radiated the rapturous heat from the previous night’s lovemaking.
Dressing and heading downstairs, she stopped on the landing, scarcely able to believe what she was witnessing. Cort held Katrina in his arms, kissing her with passion. Then in seeming reluctance, their embrace ended and he left the vestibule, to leave by the front door.
Katrina swirled around and caught Wynter watching her. She didn’t even have the good grace or sense to blush. “Good morning, Wynter,” Katrina singsonged.
Slowly Wynter made her way down the stairs. Hurt and shock filled her. After last night in Cort’s arms, she couldn’t doubt his love for her. But apparently, once again, he had duped her. Well, not for long, she silently mused as anger welled within her to see Katrina’s sly cat smile. Not for long.
Wynter reached Katrina, and she raised her hand and slapped her face with a sharp, resounding slap. “You’re a disgusting creature!”
A large red blotch immediately appeared on Katrina’s cheek, but she didn’t touch it though Wynter guessed her flesh must sting. Instead Katrina laughed and shook her head in amusement. “You’re such a child to believe that Cort preferred you over me. He has always loved me and shall belong to me forever. I bore him a child, a son, to carry on the Van Linden heritage. Our son shall inherit Lindenwyck, not your puny daughter. Cort pities you, Wynter. To him, you’re a child, a little girl who needs protecting. Cort needs a mature woman. I can see he hasn’t informed you that he intends to seek a divorce and to marry me. He probably thinks you wouldn’t be able to stand the rejection.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Katrina shrugged and brushed past Wynter. “That’s your problem. If you don’t believe me, ask Cort.”
Wynter heard her high, fluty laugh as she disappeared up the stairs. A numb feeling took hold of her, and she felt unable to move. Cort didn’t love her at all. He wanted a divorce. Then why, oh why, had he lulled her into a false sense of security? Last night had been wonderful, surpassing any of their other nights together. How could a man so passionate, so aroused and filled with love for her, intend to divorce her? But perhaps Katrina was right. Cort must pity her and think she wouldn’t be able to stand the rejection.
“I’m not a child,” she mouthed aloud to herself. “If he isn’t man enough to tell me our marriage is over, then I am woman enough to make it easier for him. I should have known all along I couldn’t hold onto him. He has never loved anyone but Katrina.”
Gulping back a sob which threatened to erupt from her throat, she headed upstairs. Luckily Gerta wasn’t in the nursery. Lyntje played happily in her crib and laughed her baby laugh when she saw Wynter. Finding a small valise, Wynter packed a few clothes for the child. Then scooping her up, she carried the baby to her room, where Mary was rearranging clothes in Wynter’s wardrobe. Against Mary’s protests, Wynter ordered her to pack a few gowns and nightclothes for her.
“I shall send word when the rest of my things are to be delivered and where. For the present Lyntje and I will reside with my sister and Dirk. I trust I will receive a pleasant welcome from them. For here at Lindenwyck, we aren’t wanted.”
She drowned out Mary’s further pleas with a deaf ear and sent word to Thomas to transport herself and her child to Lucy’s.
Lucy was genuinely glad to see Wynter and her niece. However, she guessed that something was wrong between Cort and Wynter. Dirk joked with Lyntje and played with her, but with a warning glance from Lucy, he left the room and took the baby out for a walk in the late autumn afternoon.
“Tell me what happened,” Lucy prodded. “Cort will be quite displeased to discover that you and the child are here.”
“I don’t give a care what Cort Van Linden thinks. For the present, the man has destroyed me, but I’ll survive. My child will survive his treachery. He intends to marry Katrina, but he didn’t have the gumption to ask me for a divorce. But don’t worry, Lucy. We won’t stay longer than a few days. I must get my bearings. Lyntje and I shall head for New York, and then … I don’t know. Perhaps we’ll return to England.”
“I see.” Lucy sat quietly and appraised her sister. Not a tear coursed down Wynter’s cheeks, and none sparkled in her eyes. How cold she had grown, how unfeeling. This icy woman sitting before her wasn’t the impetuous, warm younger sister she’d known all her life. Had Cort really fallen in love with Katrina? Lucy didn’t believe so. Cort was in love with Wynter. Lucy knew true love when she saw it, and every day she saw the emotion in Dirk’s eyes for herself. Something was very wrong here. And though Dirk would disapprove of her meddling, Lucy was determined to discover what had happened.
“You’re welcome to stay here with us,” Lucy said and smiled. “Our home isn’t very large, but we love it.”
Wynter smiled her thanks. Her gaze took in the practical but comfortable furniture that Dirk had made, the wall bed where Lyntje would sleep. The house was small but spotless, the puncheon floor had been scrubbed and sanded by Lucy only that morning. Everything gleamed with brightness, and to Wynter’s eyes, Lucy had grown pretty in her love for Dirk. Wynter sighed. She herself had known such love. Now her heart felt torn, almost as if it hung in ragged bits.
“Make yourself to ho
me,” Lucy continued and stood up. She placed a bonnet on her head. “I have business in the village. I won’t be long.”
After Lucy left, Wynter sat on the bed and stroked the soft golden curls on her child’s head. “We don’t need him,” she spoke aloud and pictured Cort in her mind. “We have each other.” Even as she spoke, tears gathered in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. She had her child and loved her, but in her soul, emptiness dwelled.
Things had progressed too far. Cort paced the floor and listened to Lucy tell him that Wynter and the baby had arrived on her doorstep an hour past. “You must do something,” Lucy stated. “Wynter says you want a divorce to marry Katrina. Is this true? Do you dare to hurt my sister like this?”
“Good God, no!” Cort shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and stopped his pacing to face his sister-in-law. “I love Wynter. I adore her. I’d die without her. Why would she think such an outrageous thing as this?”
“You tell me.”
He groaned. “Katrina.”
“Apparently so. The woman thinks she is to be your next wife. I suggest, Cort, that you settle this immediately, Wynter intends to leave for New York, and where she and the baby will end up only heaven knows.”
Lucy rose from her chair across from Cort’s desk. “Wynter has always acted on impulse. A rather endearing quality at times, but for all I know, she may have already left.”
He grabbed Lucy gently by the shoulders. “Convince her I love her. I want her to return to Lindenwyck.”
“You must do the convincing.”
Cort nodded. “I know. Keep her at your home as long as possible. I have something I must do to clear up this situation. Then I’ll come for her.”
“All right,” Lucy agreed reluctantly. “But I can’t bodily stop her from leaving if she takes a mind to go.”
With those words ringing in Cort’s ears like a death knell, Lucy departed. He knew what must be done. He went to the stables and saddled the quickest and strongest of his stallions. Before this day was over, Katrina would freely admit to her part in Somerset’s death, and he’d have Wynter’s love again. But he couldn’t tell her what he intended to do and must keep her in ignorance until after the burgomaster, who he soon would fetch to Lindenwyck, had taken the woman away.
CHAPTER
36
Dusk was descending when Cort called for Katrina to join him in the sitting room. Eagerly she left her room to sit beside him. He grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes with longing, or what he hoped passed for longing since he found her repulsive.
“We must make plans,” he said and kissed her hand.
“Wedding plans?” Katrina breathed the words.
“Yes, but first I must divorce Wynter. You understand this may take some time to accomplish.”
Katrina nodded, her happiness marred by the fact that Cort wouldn’t immediately be hers. “I wish we didn’t have so long to wait.”
She was falling headlong into his trap. A few minutes more and the burgomaster, who waited in the vestibule with his ears pricked up like a hunting dog, would have Somerset’s killer.
“I too am pained, my love, by the wait. Perhaps we can speed events up a bit.”
“I don’t understand,” Katrina said in confusion.
“Unfortunate accidents do occur.”
She blinked her astonishment. Could Cort actually mean what she thought he was suggesting? Could he kill Wynter? The idea was a shock, but a pleasant one. Yes, if Wynter died, they could marry soon. Something about his attitude unnerved her slightly, but Katrina was so in love with Cort that she found herself nodding in agreement.
“Accidents do occur,” she repeated his words. “A boating accident like Rolfe’s. I think we could arrange such a thing as that. I was with Rolfe when he fell overboard. He intended to kill me, but I grabbed the oar and struck him on the head. He fell into the water and never surfaced. You see, I know all about accidents. And Wynter’s death must appear accidental. We wouldn’t be going through this torture now if Somerset hadn’t botched things so. He was supposed to make Wynter want him again, then she’d have been well away from Lindenwyck by now. But Somerset was a bungler.” Her eyes shone as she grabbed Cort’s sleeve, seemingly eager to unburden herself of her crime. “I had to kill him, Cort. I hoped that by planting evidence that Wynter had done the deed, you’d be free of her. But we shall just have to get rid of her, my darling. I love you too much to wait for you to be free.”
Cort’s eyes darkened, and he would have beat Katrina senseless except at that moment Lena’s voice was heard in the vestibule.
“Herr burgomaster, what are you doing listening at the door?”
Katrina jumped up when the man entered the room. She wondered if he’d heard her confession to Cort. Glancing at Cort, she realized he had planned the whole thing. “You tricked me!”
“Take her away,” Cort ordered the burgomaster. “I never want to see her wretched face again.”
“I hate you!” Katrina ground out as the plump man pulled her out of the room.
Cort ignored her and quickly told Lena what had transpired. Lena was in shock, and Cort was heading for the door to bring Wynter back from Lucy’s when the burgomaster ran back into the house.
“She has escaped!” he rasped, out of breath. “She kicked me and ran into the woods.”
Cort cursed and rushed into the chilly fall night.
Katrina raced headlong through the dark forest, tears blinding her way. Cort had tricked her into confessing. He loved Wynter, not her, never her. She had no one. Except for Fredrik who’d help her. She must get to Fredrik.
Pushing through the tangled undergrowth she made her way towards the stables where Fredrik slept. Suddenly an arm reached out to grab her and she fell to the vine-covered ground.
Katrina screamed and kicked at the figure that fell on top of her. “I hate you!” she railed, believing the attacker to be Cort.
“I hate you,” came the deadly calm voice.
She stopped flailing, stopped screaming. Her heart sounded in her ears, and though she couldn’t see the man well, she knew it was Rolfe who held her pinned to the ground.
“Rolfe?” Her voice sounded thin and cracked. “It can’t be you.”
“My precious wife, I think you’re ill pleased to see me. You wound me with your hatred.”
“You’re dead. I saw you drown.”
“No,” he corrected. “You saw me go under, but you didn’t see me surface on the other side of the boat. I was too dazed to come after you, so I let you row back to shore. Then I allowed the current to carry me a little way to Gerta’s house. My kind, gentle Gerta took me in and nursed me after I nearly died of chills and fever. I was ill for weeks, luckily for you. But I knew that one day I’d come upon you, my faithful wife, and that when I did, you’d die the death you were deprived of that night on the river.”
Fear hit her like a bolt of lightning. Rolfe was going to kill her—she knew it. Her life was meant to end, and she knew that no amount of protesting would save her. But she tried.
“I won’t let you do this to me,” she cried and attempted to kick him, but Rolfe was much larger and heavier than Katrina. Her movements met with futility.
Her vain struggles enraged him. “You’ve always been so stupid where Cort was concerned. If you had come to me and asked me to help you win him away from Wynter, I would have, but you were so deceitful. You hired Somerset to do the deed. I knew all about him, Katrina, even how you killed him.
“There’s very little about you that I don’t know, even how much you hate pain. And for the love I bore you years ago, I shall grant you a merciful end. Much more merciful than the life I’ve led with you.”
Rolfe doubled his fist and knocked her unconscious. Picking Katrina up, he carried her limp form to the bluff overlooking the river. He gave her a tender kiss on her ruby mouth, and threw her over the precipice and watched as her body hurtled into dark space. He heard the splash.
The next m
orning Katrina’s lifeless body was found a mile up the river by one of Lindenwyck’s farmers.
Cort arrived at Lucy’s house to take Wynter home. At first she didn’t want to go, but when he explained what had happened, why he had pretended to love Katrina, Wynter understood.
She entered his outstretched arms, and with their child, they returned to Lindenwyck, content in their happiness.
But one person wasn’t content. He watched from the forest as they entered the house and heard their delighted laughter. Rage filled Rolfe and squeezed his insides like twenty hands. He vowed that before the year ended, Wynter would be his, and Cort would not live to see the new year dawn.
CHAPTER
37
A cold north wind whipped around the house at the end of November. One morning, on a gray and snowy day, Wynter looked out the window to see that the river had frozen. Some of the farmers and their families already skated on its gleaming surface.
“Will you skate today?” Wynter asked Cort who was adding long columns of figures in an account book.
He looked up distracted, but smiled at the radiant picture she made in a ruby velvet gown, cut low and edged with cream-colored lace. Her cheeks bloomed like roses, and her perfectly shaped mouth resembled spring berries. Wynter’s beauty always amazed him, and he never tired of gazing at her.
“Come here,” he drawled and held out his arms to her.
Eagerly she came to him and placed her slender arms around his neck. Their kiss was warm and would have flared into passion had not a knock sounded on the door. Cort, in a disgruntled tone of voice, ordered the intruder into the room.
A serving woman, new to Lindenwyck, apologized for bothering them and handed Cort a letter which had recently arrived from New York.
“Someone sent a letter in this weather?” he asked. “Is there to be a reply?”
“No reply is necessary, at least that’s what the messenger said to tell you, sir.”
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