by Lora Thomas
“I will not.”
Branson looked at Wilkerson.
Fred swallowed. He knew what he was supposed to do. Branson had instructed him to use force to drag Miss Wilcox from the home. Branson had instructed him to use the rights granted to him by law—as her intended husband—to force her to leave. But he could not. It was not in him to be so callous.
“Fine, Mr. Wilkerson,” Branson seethed as a malicious sneer came over him. “If you will not do something, I will.” He addressed his sister. “You will come with us, Catrina. Do not make me call the authorities and have you carted out of here. Think of the Paxsleys and how that would reflect upon them.”
“Is everything all right in here?” Victoria asked from the doorway.
Catrina turned to face Victoria. She could see Branson from the corner of her eyes. Her brother would make good on his threats. His greed made him unpredictable, and she could not cause the Paxsleys any more hardship. The authorities here would reflect poorly upon them and could make many patrons seek their financial institutions elsewhere.
“All is well,” Catrina said.
“Are you certain?” Victoria asked with suspicion.
“She is,” Branson replied. “I have arranged a room for my sister at my hotel. She was on her way to pack her belongings. Isn’t that right?”
Catrina nodded. Branson’s greed made him dangerous. She would not put this family through those difficulties.
“Yes,” Catrina said. “I thank you for your hospitality, Victoria, but my brother is correct. I will go to the hotel and remain there with him.”
“Catrina?”
A pained smile came to Catrina. “I have created quite a spectacle of myself. I do not want my tarnished reputation to reflect upon you or your family. You reside in London and must live cohesively. Please excuse me.”
Catrina brushed past Victoria and up the stairs. She fought the tears stinging her eyes. Damn him! How she hated her brother. But what was she to do? He was her guardian and could do whatever he wished to her.
Entering the room, she approached the window and opened the lid to her trunk. She began tossing her belongings into the chest. She did not care that they would become wrinkled. She did not care that they might rip. Her movements were hurried and without purpose and did not falter when she heard Elena enter.
“Catrina. Is it true?” Elena asked from the doorway. “Are you leaving?”
Catrina did not stop packing. “It is.”
“But why? I thought you would be in London with me for another two weeks.”
“Branson has had a change of plans.”
“I do not understand. Why?”
Catrina dropped an armload of underthings into the trunk. “I am to marry tomorrow.”
A started gasp left Elena.
“That idiotic brother of mine has arranged a union between Mr. Wilkerson and myself.”
“Who?”
“My coachman.” Catrina slammed the lid of her trunk.
“Why?”
“Over money. Wilkerson is a drunkard. I assume Branson and Wilkerson made some sort of agreement. But I cannot fathom what? I mean, what man would give up my inheritance?”
Elena rushed to her friend’s side. “Oh, Catrina. I will get you out of this. I will see if Joshua has any pull—”
“No, Elena.” An uneven sigh left Catrina. “I can never be with Thomas. Branson would never allow it.”
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. A footman entered the room. “Are your trunks ready, Miss Wilcox?”
“Yes.” Catrina stepped away from her chest and turned to face Elena.
Elena threw her arms around Catrina and wailed. “I wish you would reconsider.”
Catrina returned her friend’s embrace. “You know why I cannot. Branson is dangerous, Elena. He would ruin everyone. He would hurt anyone to get my inheritance.”
“Then, just give it to him.”
“I cannot. Mother and Father had strict instructions in their will. The money was mine and could not go to Branson.”
“But if you marry Mr. Wilkerson and he gives it to Branson, it still goes to Branson.”
“Branson is shrewd. He has found a way to get his hands upon my funds.”
“Catrina!” Branson called from the bottom of the stairs. “Come on!”
Catrina closed her eyes, fighting the tears that wanted to come. “Take care, Elena. And do write. I want to hear about your happiness.”
“I cannot do that to you. It would not be fair.”
“Your happiness will give me happiness.” Catrina gave one last embrace to her friend and pulled away. “Thank you for your friendship. It has meant more to me than you know.” With that, Catrina left.
Catrina departed the Paxsleys’ home with her brother and now future husband. Entering the coach, she placed herself by the window, next to the door. It made her feel like she had just a bit of control. Her gaze drifted to the sky. Thick, dark clouds were rolling in, indicating rain. Fitting.
“I am glad you decided to come peacefully,” Branson said.
Catrina did not respond. She kept her gaze out the window. Her mind wandered to Eden and the wonderful time she’d had there. The warm sun. The wind. The caves. Her time with Thomas. The tender way he made love to her. The feelings he created inside of her.
“I will be good to you, Miss Wilcox,” Fred said.
Catrina did not acknowledge him.
“Your future husband is speaking to you, Catrina,” Branson barked.
“So he is,” she replied. “If neither of you mind, I would like to not speak. My life is now ruined. Allow me this time.”
“Catrina—”
“You won, Branson,” Catrina snapped. “You are getting my bloody inheritance at the cost of me. Now leave me alone.”
Catrina kept staring out the window of the coach. Several people were milling about. Some she recognized from the ball last evening. Others were strangers. They were shopping, talking, and laughing. Some disappeared into buildings. How easy it would be to disappear into the crowd.
She cast a sidelong look in Branson’s direction. Could she be so bold as to jump from a moving carriage? Even if she did, where would she go? Thomas’s words came to her. “Catrina, if there is anything I can do to help you, please let me know.” Would he keep his word?
She looked at her brother and then Wilkerson. They were not looking in her direction. Before she could reconsider her actions, she took hold of the latch to the door and turned it. Before Branson could reach for her, Catrina leapt from the carriage. She hit the ground with such force the breath left her body.
“Driver! Stop!” she could hear Branson command.
The shoppers around stopped and stared. Catrina scurried to her feet, coughing, and looked around bewildered.
“Catrina!” Branson yelled.
Catrina stumbled but kept her footing. She rushed through the crowd of shoppers.
“Catrina!”
She did not stop as she pushed her way through the crowd. She knew Branson would be behind her. She needed to hide. Spotting a shop, she darted inside and closed the door behind her.
“Can I help you?” an older lady asked.
Catrina noticed the shopkeeper at the back of the room. “Yes. Some man is trying to take me.”
“Who?”
Catrina shook her head. “I do not know. Please help me.”
The woman motioned for Catrina to come with her.
Catrina followed the woman.
“Why would someone try to take you?”
Catrina shook her head. She had to come up with something for this woman to aid her. Something believable. She allowed the lie to roll from her tongue, “My brother has gambling issues. I guess it is one of the men to whom he owes money.”
“You poor child.” Sympathy came to the woman’s eyes. “My husband was the same. Gambling ruins good men. Come with me. I will slip you out the back.”
“Thank you.”
Catrina follo
wed the woman through the dress shop and out the back.
“Thank you,” Catrina said.
“You can hide here while I send for the authorities.”
Catrina shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I cannot further involve you in my brother’s problems.”
Catrina left the shop and meandered through the back alley. She had never been to London and had no earthly idea where she was going. She turned left then right so many times that she was not even sure if God knew where she was. Each step she took, the buildings became more dilapidated. Deciding she had walked far enough to lose Branson, she exited from the alley.
Her eyes widened and an, “Oh, dear” escaped her lips. The people present were not the most respectable sort. Men walked past and gave her lecherous grins and made lewd comments. A woman across the street was practically naked. A little girl raced past her, wearing no clothes at all.
“Are you lost, miss?” a voice asked.
The voice caused Catrina to jump, and a startled noise left her. Turning, relief filled her as she spotted the dark blue uniform of a watchman.
“Thank heavens.” Catrina’s hand came to her chest. “Yes. Yes, I am lost.”
“What are you doing in these parts?”
“I…I was taking a walk with a companion, and we became separated. I thought I could find my way home, but, as you can see, I did not. I get terribly lost. I do not know why I thought I could find my way back.”
“Where is your home, miss?” the watchman asked.
Horror crossed Catrina’s face. She had no idea where Thomas lived.
“Miss?”
“Um, sorry. I am a guest of Lord Thomas Summers, the Viscount of Huntsley. His cousin,” she quickly added. “My mother and I have been staying with him. Can you direct me to his home?” She batted her lashes.
The watchmen gave her a skeptical look.
“I get lost all the time,” Catrina went on. “Mother warned me that my bad sense of direction would come to haunt me, and I hate to admit it, but she is correct. And before you ask, no, I do not know his address. Why would I? I mean, our coachman knows where he lives. My cousin, that is.”
“Lord Huntsley?” the watchman repeated with suspicion.
“Yes.” Catrina could see his doubt. “Please, kind sir. My mother will be frantic with worry. And think of my cousin. He feels responsible for me and will be furious, knowing no one came to my aid. Despite his sordid reputation, he is a good man but has a fierce temper.”
She must have sounded convincing, for the watchman shook his head and spoke, “I am sorry, miss, but I do not know where Lord Huntsley lives. But I can take you to the edge of my district. David, he is the watchman in the next area. He might be able to help you.”
“Thank you,” Catrina said with relief.
The watchman escorted Catrina to the edge of his district to the next man. The next man knew the vicinity of Thomas’s home and hailed a hackney for Catrina just as the rains came. It was nearing dark when the rented coach took her to a very prominent area of London. The houses were grand with well-manicured lawns. Catrina would have loved to view the landscapes, but the rain made it difficult.
The hired hack stopped at the corner of two streets. “This is as far as I go.”
Catrina crinkled her nose as she watched the rainfall. Digging into the drawstring bag around her wrist, she removed a few coins and exited the coach.
Handing the money to the driver, she asked, “Where is Lord Huntsley’s home?”
The driver pointed behind her. “Seven houses that way. On the right.” And with that, he flipped the reins over the horse’s back and left.
Catrina looked down the street and then skyward. The rain was increasing. Turning her attention back to the road, she began walking. The lights of the homes were inviting. She longed to stop on the nearest veranda to get out of the cold soaking rain but dared not.
“Did he say six or seven down? On the right or left. Oh, dear.” Why did she have to forget something as crucial as that?!
Stopping at the sixth house on the right, she could see lights. Deciding to peer inside a window first, she slipped around the side of the home. As she raised up on her toes to peek into the open window, a young boy said, “Mother, this stuff is vile.” Before Catrina could turn, a bowl of warm liquid was poured out the window.
The stew ran down her face. Clearing the broth from her face, Catrina eased away from the home.
“I should have known I would choose the wrong house,” Catrina mumbled.
A crack of thunder caused her to jump.
She did not stop but ran to the next house and knocked on the door. “Please let this be Thomas’s house. Please, oh, please.”
Thomas downed his third glass of brandy as the day’s events ran through his mind. He had gone to the Paxsleys’ home at nine this morning, only to be turned away by Mrs. Paxsley. He could see her reasoning. Look at what happened last night at the ball. Catrina had shouted to everyone about their physical relationship. He assumed Catrina had told her what she thought she heard. And if the situation had been reversed, Thomas would have done the same thing.
Opening the desk drawer, he removed the Summers sapphire out and opened the box. Such a beautiful item. Too bad, it would never grace his wife’s finger. In a little over a month, it would go to his mother. But for the time being, he would return it to Miriam tomorrow.
He sat the opened ring box upon his desk and watched the candlelight reflect on the bluestone.
Lightning flashed, and thunder echoed through his study.
He had to find a way to see Catrina. He had to explain what had happened. But how?
Thunder rumbled again, followed by a knock on the front door. Thomas drew his brow together. Who the hell would pay a social call tonight? It was pouring rain.
Henry approached the door.
Thomas could hear Henry arguing with someone.
“I said, go. Be gone. Vagabonds are not welcome here,” Henry said.
“Please!” a female voice called.
Pushing away from his desk, Thomas approached the hallway with curiosity.
“I said leave.”
“Thomas!”
“Catrina?” Thomas said in disbelief, relief flooding him. “Let her in, Henry.”
The butler opened the door. Catrina stood in the doorway, soaking wet, several green leaves scattered in her hair.
Thomas rushed forward. “Henry, go find a warm blanket for Miss Wilcox and have the cook fix her a spot of warm tea.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Catrina stepped inside.
“What are you doing here, Catrina? And in this weather?”
Desperation was in her voice as she replied, “I had to come, Thomas. I had to.”
Thomas closed the door behind her as worry creased his brow. “Come with me. Warm yourself by the fire.”
Catrina followed Thomas into his study. The fire crackled, and its warmth called to her. Thomas placed his hand upon the small of her back and directed her to the fireplace. Stopping before the hearth, Thomas wrapped his arms around Catrina and began rubbing her back. He could feel her shiver from the cold.
Thomas could not believe he was holding her again. Here he had been searching for her, and she found him.
“My lord,” Henry said, approaching with a quilt.
Thomas took the quilt from Henry and wrapped it around Catrina.
“Why are you here, Catrina?”
Catrina pulled the covering tightly around her and turned to face the fire, holding her hands to the flames.
“I had to. I need your help.”
He nodded. “What do you need?”
“Branson is forcing me to marry my coachman, Mr. Wilkerson, tomorrow. I cannot go through with it. At Eden, you said that if I should need anything you would help me. I want to know if you meant it.”
“I did.”
“Then help me. Help me leave England.”
“What?” Thomas ask
ed, his brows coming together.
“Help me leave England. It is the only way for me to be free of Branson.”
“Where would you go?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. America? Mexico? New Providence?”
A servant entered carrying a tray with a pot of tea and two cups. Placing the tray on a table, the servant poured two cups.
“Leave us,” Thomas ordered. Once the servant had left, Thomas turned to Catrina. A puddle of water was forming around her. She looked so lost and alone standing before the fire. Despondent. He could not let her leave. “There has to be another way.”
Catrina shook her head. “No. Branson is my guardian. As long as I remain in England, unwed, he will have control over my life. My money. That is all he is interested in. Once I turn twenty-one, I will return, and he cannot dictate my life any longer.”
Thomas turned from her and approached the tea set. He carried over a cup for her and then returned to the tray. Miriam’s idea came to mind.
“He cannot take your money if your husband has it.”
“You are not listening, Thomas. Mr. Wilkerson is a drunkard. He will do whatever Branson tells him to do. And I do not know why.”
Thomas turned to her. “What if you married someone that Branson cannot control.”
“How? I still have to have his permission.”
“Not in Scotland.”
Confusion crossed Catrina’s face. “What?”
“Marry me.”
“What?” Catrina asked again, her voice rising.
“Think about it, Catrina. We both require spouses. I must marry by the first of September or else my inheritance will go to Josephine. You must marry to gain yours.” It was not the ideal proposal, but Thomas was working with the situation at hand.
Her back went rigid. “Why? So you can get my money, too?”
Thomas shook his head. “No. I have no need for your money. Once we marry, I will arrange for a bank account in your name and place your entire inheritance and dowry in it. All your money will be yours.”
Catrina’s head was spinning. She would get Thomas this way, but she would not have his love.
“I know it is not the ideal marriage, Catrina. But this way, you will have the freedom you have always longed for. I will never try to control you.”
