Captive Hearts

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Captive Hearts Page 9

by Teresa J. Reasor


  Katherine’s embarrassment over the sheet had kept her withdrawn and tense all evening. Her complaint of a headache and subsequent withdrawal came as no surprise.

  “You wouldn’t happen to know who was responsible for the sheet upon the balcony.” Matthew took a drink of the amber liquid and held it in his mouth, its smoky flavor like warm silk on his tongue.

  “No, I do not. Clarisse thought it a crass gesture, but it may prove a beneficial one, once Katherine has recovered from her embarrassment.”

  “I’ve made arrangements for some of my own men to accompany us about the city. They’ll be armed. I’ve asked Clarisse to speak with the servants. They should be careful to keep the doors and windows secured and their eyes open to any strangers lurking about.” His uncle’s usual affability was instantly replaced with a serious expression. “You believe that there truly may be a threat to her then.”

  “I can’t say for sure, but I’m not going to leave it to chance.”

  The older man laced his hands over the slight bulge of his belly. “I have been making inquiries into the recent attacks along the outskirts of the city. There is a particularly vicious band at work here, but no other deaths have occurred because of the robberies. Lord Leighton and his son were not armed, though the driver had a side arm, and Lady Leighton has been the only woman harmed in such a way. The driver was killed as well. Why would they shed blood if their only purpose behind the attack was monetary?”

  “Perhaps there was a different purpose behind this attack than the others.”

  “I know you want to believe Edward had a hand in all this, but nothing points in that direction as yet, Matthew.

  Perhaps once we have gotten a look at the will, we may know more. He does seem suspiciously eager to avoid me.

  Since Katherine is the only surviving child, I would think she would inherit at least enough to keep her comfortably, though she will not need it now.” Matthew tugged at the stock about his throat releasing the elaborate knot. “Had she not survived, Edward would inherit everything free and clear. He’s led her to believe she’ll only receive a small monetary settlement from her mother’s brother’s estate and nothing from her father. I find that a little suspicious, don’t you?” Talbot’s white brows drew together in a frown. “Since he is executor of the estate, he would know.”

  “But he wasn’t expecting to have assistance in settling everything, Uncle. As executor it would be easy for him to mislead his niece about her inheritance and her money could be allotted at his discretion.” Talbot’s jaw thrust forward, his expression one of determination. “He will be disappointed if he thinks dodging me will keep him from giving Katherine her rightful inheritance. The courts and I will see the will, if I have to confront him in public about the issue. I am going to his apartment tomorrow morning before he can avoid me.” Matthew smiled. Talbot would settle the matter. “I imagine he’ll be overjoyed to see you.” His uncle helped himself to another drink and leaned back against the desk behind him. “There is something that is not exactly suspicious but does reflect upon his character. After Edward approached me about a marriage between you and Katherine, I began to make inquiries about him. Until his brother’s death, he was living on the fringe. Now, he has acquired some wealth he has wasted no time ingratiating himself to certain key elements of the ton, Lord Rudman in particular.” With a grim expression Talbot’s gaze rose to Matthew’s face. “His eagerness to hand Katherine over to you without even inquiring into your character, does not reflect well on him either.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Mathew agreed. He clenched his hands angry on her behalf.

  “Rudman held all the so called proof of your crime and the courts were of course more eager to believe a peer

  than a Colonial gentleman. Had there been any other way I could have helped you, I would have, Matthew.” He nodded. “I know, Talbot.”

  “It is not a bad trade. Katherine is beautiful and refined.”

  Secretive, stubborn, distrustful.

  “Obviously you found some common ground between you.” He referred to the sheet of course. Her words that morning about respect, honor, and credibility came back to him. He held his peace. “You knew Katherine’s father?” Talbot’s gaze dropped to his drink. “Only as an acquaintance. There were rumors he abused his wife, but I could not say for certain they were true. I do know Ellen Leighton was as soft spoken as her daughter and just as beautiful.”

  “Before Rayford Leighton’s death, he invited several very wealthy men to his country estate to meet Katherine.

  In my opinion, his eye was on the size of their purse instead of their reputation or their suitability. Two were gamblers, and the other old enough to be her father.” Anger tightened Matthew’s jaw. “So he wanted rid of her, for a price.”

  “So it would seem. That attitude would be reflected in the will if he left her nothing,” Talbot said. He shook his head as though the thought troubled him. He downed his brandy, set the glass on the tray, and collected his coat. “I am off to bed, as you should be, Nephew.” Talbot hesitated at the door. “I have been meaning to give these to you all day and it continued to slip my mind.” He withdrew a stack of letters secured with a wide ribbon from the inner pocket of his coat. “Edward gave these to me the afternoon of the wedding, so I might deliver them to you.” He extended the papers. “If he wanted her dead, Matthew, why would he drag her back to Willingham’s today, so determined to see her safe?” He shook his head. “I don’t know Talbot.” He hesitated to admit that part of his suspicion of Edward stemmed only from his own treatment at the man’s hands when so many other things played into it.

  Setting aside his empty glass, he accepted the small bundle and murmured a good night. His name, written in

  a feminine hand, graced the front of each letter. So, she had written to him. Why had she not told him? He pulled the ribbon free and opened the first letter. The anxious tone of the note brought a frown to his face. She had not known he was still imprisoned. She had spoken the truth about that at least. Matthew quit the room to go upstairs.

  ****

  Katherine rose from the bed with a sigh. Half an hour of quiet had gone a long way to ease the dull throbbing at her temples. While getting her night shift, she checked the paper-wrapped parcels stacked next to the chest in the dressing room. Concerned that Matthew would be curious about them, she looked about for some place else to put them. Hannah’s sudden appearance at the door gave her a start.

  “Lady Willingham sent me to help you undress.” She nodded and turned giving the abigail access to the row of tiny buttons down her back. She eyed the daybed with its bent wood ends and rolled pillows. The thought of another night in bed with Matthew, reeked havoc with her emotions and brought a feverish heat to her skin. Spending her nights on the daybed would be a wiser option, if a less comfortable one. The idea offered her no feeling of relief and made her doubly determined to keep her distance from her temporary husband.

  Dressed only in her shift, she moved back into the bedroom and sat down before the dressing table. Hannah removed the pins from her hair. The auburn mass unrolled down her back and stray curls sprang free.

  Considering confronting the maid about the blood on the sheets, she studied the other woman’s reflection in the mirror. She had aged in the last few months; the death of Katherine’s family had left its mark upon Hannah’s heart as much as it had her own. Her hand covered the maid’s.

  Looking into those faded brown eyes, Katherine couldn’t bring herself to say anything. “I can do this, Hannah. It has been a long day for us both. You should rest.” A smile laced with sadness touched her lips. “I shan’t be about to do things for you when you leave for America, Katherine.” She began running the brush through the thick locks.

  She wished she could tell her she wasn’t going. She turned to face her. “Why ever not, Hannah?”

  “I went to the south of France with Lady Ellen before the trouble there broke out. I nearly died from seasickness on the
trip there and back. I couldn’t tolerate a longer voyage. I would surely be sickened unto death.” A painful feeling of abandonment struck her bringing a knot to her throat. “But you are the only family I have left.” Hannah’s eyes grew unnaturally bright. “That isn’t so. You’ll have a whole new family now. Three new brothers, and Lord and Lady Willingham seem to have taken to you. You’ll have a child to keep you busy.”

  “That does not make up for what I have lost already, what I would lose if you were not with me.” Upset by the thought of separation, she had to swallow several times against the tears that threatened. Since birth, Hannah had cared for her. She was as much a part of her family as her Uncle Edward. More so. Love forged a stronger bond between them than blood ever could.

  “You’re a married woman now, missy. You have a responsibility to your husband. It’s your place to be at his side wherever that may take you.”

  “Where ever I go, so shall you.”

  “Not if I don’t wish it.” The woman’s chin firmed, her expression determined.

  Hannah had served her family, had served her, for nineteen years. Perhaps she truly wanted to be free. “And, if I do not leave England?”

  The maid stared at her in surprise. “What nonsense are you spouting now, Katherine?” She set aside the brush. “Of course you’ll be leavin’ with Cap’in Hamilton as soon as his ship is ready. And, you’ll do well to be thankful for havin’ a kind and generous husband to care for you. It’s what Miss Ellen wanted for you, a young and handsome husband who could keep you safe and give you healthy children. She spoke of it often.”

  “I know what she spoke of.” Better to sow the seeds of doubt now so she wouldn’t be so disappointed in her later.

  “You know the Captain married me to get his freedom back and his ship, nothing more. He still grieves for his wife.”

  “’Twill take some time, but he’ll learn to care for you too. He behaves warmly to you already.” The pretense he had adopted so readily was a regrettable success. “The weight of all the gossip will kill any affection he may harbor for me, Hannah. The difficulty of having a wife with a soiled reputation may prove too burdensome for him.”

  Hannah’s doubt stretched plainly across her features.

  “He looks to have strong enough shoulders to bear the burden, missy. Now that the neighborhood has seen with their own eyes proof that the rumors are untrue there’ll be no need for him to worry.”

  There was no shaking the woman’s faith in the man.

  She did not even know him, yet she had accepted him in a way Katherine couldn’t—or had she just refused to?

  Uncomfortable with the thought, she fired a blunt question at the woman. “You would not know how that proof came to be or how it ended up hanging from the second floor balcony, would you?” The maid gave her a mutinous look.

  “You have placed me in an awkward situation with the Captain, Hannah. He was very upset about it this morning. After all, he was in a position to know nothing happened.”

  “Had you done your duty something would have,” she fired right back.

  Katherine’s anger fled. “It makes no difference if he is handsome, or kind, or generous, or wealthy, if he does not love me.”

  Hannah focused on her with what Katherine knew to be the woman’s most intimidating frown. “Are you afraid to care for him? Afraid he’ll treat you as your father did your mum?”

  She flinched. “I will not allow any man to raise his hand to me. Never again.” Bitterness lay like a stone inside her chest. “I would sooner live alone and unloved the rest of my days than have to tolerate such behavior.” Old rage blended with the new to make her voice husky.

  “My mother knew little kindness from my father and knew no mercy from the men that attacked us that night.

  I could do little about my father, but I will see the others punished, if it takes a lifetime to do it.”

  Hannah placed a hand upon her shoulder. “You can’t do it alone. You have to seek help where you may.”

  “Do you think one woman’s life, her dignity, means anything to them?” Katherine shook her head. “Only my father’s and brother’s life will count if justice is ever sought on their behalf. Had she survived they would have blamed her for what they did to her, just as they blamed me. Because we are women, we mean nothing.”

  “Unless we’re loved,” Hannah added. “You have to give love to receive it, Katherine. If you’re too afraid to give of yourself, you never will. You’ll be cheatin’ yourself, and you’ll be cheatin’ your husband.” She bit back the words, “I do not have a husband.” A niggling guilty feeling had her biting her bottom lip. She was deceiving everyone, including Hannah. But what else was she to do when she couldn’t depend on their help or support?

  Struggling with her frustration and anxiety, she remained at the dressing table for several moments after Hannah left. If Matthew grew curious about the packages in the dressing room, he might discover their contents.

  She had to make certain they were hidden or at least placed where he would not notice them. Returning to the room with the dressing table chair, she eased the door closed, lest Matthew return while she hid the packages.

  Climbing atop the chair, she hefted the heavy paper wrapped parcels atop the armoire then jumped down.

  As her feet touched the floor, the lamp went out leaving an inky blackness that fell like a cowl around her.

  The air thickened to the consistency of syrup. Katherine gasped. Her mother’s voice, muffled and pleading, rose out of the darkness, her sounds of pain, animal moans that went on and on. “Momma.” The word escaped on a sob. Katherine shuddered. A blurred image of men standing in a circle watching something upon the ground accompanied by the loud rhythmic sounds of heavy breathing flashed through her memory. Katherine clapped her hands over her ears, blocking the sound, panic making her fight against the emotional anguish it represented. The memory receded leaving her nauseous and dizzy. She reached out and shuffled forward.

  Disoriented, her hand brushed the face of a chest of

  drawers. She turned to the right, cracking her knee on a drawer left partially open. The opaque fabric of the room closed in around her. Her chest ached with the effort it took for her to breathe. Shivering, a clammy sweat coating her skin, She stumbled forward with her arms straight out before her. Her hand pressed flat against the door. For the first time, she noticed a sliver of light penetrating across the bottom. Her fingers fumbled at the knob trying to turn it. The slick glass slipped from her grasp, then caught, but didn’t turn. Thinking she was locked in she slapped her palm against the door, her breathing too labored for her to cry out. Dear God, get me

  out!

  The door opened so unexpectedly she pitched forward and would have fallen had Matthew not caught her.

  Trembling, her ears filled with the sound of her own panting sobs, she clung to him, her face pressed against his waistcoat.

  Several moments passed before her panic eased. She grew aware of the gentle pressure of his hand cradling her head and the strength of his arm supporting her. The softer contours of her body melded with the taller more muscular angularity of his bringing, a fluid weightiness to her lower limbs. A languid heat suffused her skin as the desire to press closer imbued her.

  She jerked back, distrustful of her own feelings, more than of him. “Did you lock me in?” His eyes went from blue to gray. His sensual mouth took on a taut angry line that emphasized the hard masculinity of his features. He looked like a dark angel, with his beard-shadowed jaw, dusky brows, and the inky black hair. Katherine told herself it was fear that brought an added weakness to her legs.

  His arm tightened around her his expression grim. “I don’t go in for petty reprisals. If ever I wish to seek retribution from you for any wrong you’ve done me, Katherine, I can promise you, I’ll not play the sneak about it. The door wasn’t locked.”

  His biting tone and the unflinching directness of his gaze had her sighing. Once again she found hersel
f in the position of having to apologize to him. “I am sorry.”

  “You’re afraid of close spaces.”

  “Dark, close spaces,” she admitted, her gaze focused upon the stock that hung loose about his neck.

  “But you came into the prison.”

  “I had no choice. Edward was willing to give me to whoever would have me. I had to find some way to protect myself.”

  His jaw went taut.

  “At first I thought I might smother.” A shudder shook her. “Mr. Hicks provided a distraction. He made me angry when he began to beat a prisoner. And—you had a window.”

  “Such as it was. What were you doing in the dressing room?”

  Guilt settled once again upon her shoulders. “Looking for something. Then, the lamp went out.”

  “I left it lit last night. The oil must have burnt low.” He kept an arm about her as he guided her to a chair.

  Matthew sat down then drew her down on his thigh.

  She stiffened and tugged at the hem of the shift she wore.

  She attempted to rise, but he restrained her, tightening his hold upon her waist.

  “It’s time we spoke.”

  “About?” She tugged at the hem of her shift again only succeeding in stretching the fabric across her breasts.

  “You.”

  He tried to focus on her face and ignore the display as he studied the growing tension of her features and the reflective wariness in her gaze.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Are there anymore problems that you’ve neglected to share with me?”

  “No.”

  Her quick denial made him suspicious. “Perhaps you’d better tell me.”

  She flashed him a furious frown and tried to rise.

  His grasp tightened against her hip bringing her against him. He breathed in the clean floral scent of her hair and skin, the musky scent of woman. His attention focused upon the reddened bottom lip that pouted at him so prettily and he fought back the urge to taste it. “As long as we are wed, I’ve a duty to protect and provide for

 

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