Summers' Embrace

by Lora Thomas

  Wilkerson swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Good. Now come on. We will ride until dark.”

  “The rain—”

  “You have driven a carriage in worse. Now shut up.” Branson kicked his horse to a trot.

  Wilkerson watched his employer ride ahead, and a feeling of dread settled in the deepest pit of his stomach. Branson had his bullocks in his hands. It was true that he was responsible for the deaths of Patrick and Viola Wilcox. He was drunk that night. Too drunk to even walk, let alone drive a carriage. But what was he supposed to do? Catrina was injured, and his employer ordered him to take him and his wife home. Fredrick should have told Patrick that he was drunk, but if he had, then Patrick would have terminated him. Patrick had instructed Fredrick to give up liquor or find employment elsewhere. Fred promised he would. But he could not. If he stopped consuming the whiskey, then he could not think. His hands would shake, and he would see things. He did try to stop but gave up. The cravings were too strong to resist. And now look at what good it had done him. The best employer he ever had was dead because of him, and he was now under the thumb of a spoiled, selfish, greedy man who would do anything for money. If he married Catrina, then he would be the most miserable man in England. If he denied Branson, then he would go to jail or be killed. What had he gotten himself into?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It took them four days to reach Gretna Green upon the Great Northern Road. Four long days. And the last three were the longest, for Catrina had such desire to give herself to Thomas. If it had not been for John's watchful eye and keen ear, she would have succumbed to her desires and Thomas’s open invitation. Even last night, as they stayed at a quaint little inn, she had planned to leave her chambers to visit Thomas. Mr. McTavish must have sensed her desires, for he had arranged for a servant girl to stay with Catrina that evening.

  It took them till mid-morning to reach their destination, the King’s Head Inn. Upon first viewing the building, Catrina was far from impressed. One would have thought it would be reasonably easy to spot. However, it was humble and ordinary in appearance. It sat on the corner of two streets, and the lot was void of lawn, flowers, trees, or shrubs. There was not even a carriage drive or walkway. The door sat in the center of the building. To each side of the door were windows. The upper floor contained three similar windows. Catrina’s heart sank as she viewed the slate roof that was so desperately in need of repair. She had been excited to start her life with Thomas, but the inn's despairing appearance made her question this action. Perhaps there was another location. She did not have a chance to voice her concern, for the second their carriage stopped before the inn, Thomas opened the door.

  Thomas whisked Catrina into the inn. The instant they stepped foot into the building, a servant directed them to the right of the door and into the parlor. Refreshments were brought in by a kind older woman who then asked Catrina if she would like to freshen up before her wedding. Catrina was a little surprised that the woman knew why they were at the inn, and it must have shown. The older woman laughed and said, “Why else would one be here without a chaperone?” After that statement, Catrina felt as if she were about to burst into flames from embarrassment at the insinuation.

  In a second-story room inside the King’s Head Inn in the Scottish village of Springfield, Catrina looked into the floor-length mirror and smoothed down the wrinkles on the front of the dark pink day gown. Her hand settled on her abdomen as her insides trembled. In a few moments, she would become Lady Catrina Summers, the Viscountess of Huntsley. The large sapphire upon her finger sparkled, causing a smile to come to her.

  Her smile faded. How she wished her parents were alive to see her good fortune. Her family was considered gentry because they owned a substantial amount of land and had enormous wealth, but now she would be considered part of the nobility. How she longed to speak to her mother now. To ask for advice and voice her concerns over her life to come. And her Papa? She would love to have him here to walk her down the aisle. To give her away and place a kiss upon her cheek as pride filled his eyes.

  Shouting from outside drew Catrina’s attention. She ambled to the window and looked out, her eyes widening in horror.

  “Branson!” She pivoted from the window, and her breath came out in pants. She had to warn Thomas!

  She headed to the door. More shouting could be heard. She jerked opened the door and raced down the stairs. At the bottom, she nearly toppled over as she came to a sudden stop. Branson was in the doorway and had his pistol trained on Thomas.

  “There’s the little tart now,” Branson said. “Come, dear sister.”

  “Why are you here, Branson?” Catrina asked, refusing to move.

  “Now, Catrina, is that any way to address your guardian? You know why I am here.”

  “For your own greed.”

  Branson gave a malicious sneer. “For your reputation, of course. I cannot have anyone speaking out of turn about you. Not that you did not already tell all of London what a whore you are.”

  “Like you care about my reputation. All you care about is my inheritance.”

  “Not true, little sister. I am concerned about your well-being. I am far from the first guardian to have to track down a stupid female relative to keep them from doing something foolish.”

  “I am not stupid, Branson. I know exactly what I am doing.”

  “Do you? You do know that once you marry Huntsley, he will have full control of your fortune, do you not?”

  “Like you care. You want it all for yourself.”

  “Come now, Catrina. I am your guardian.”

  “And you are a poor one at that.”

  “Sweet, simple Catrina. You are so easily fooled by Huntsley’s sweet words and promises. But the instant you say ‘I do’ all your fortune will be his for I assume you have not arranged a written contract.”

  Catrina said nothing as she glowered at her brother.

  “I suggest you leave, Wilcox,” Thomas warned.

  Branson did not stop. “I have come to warn you. You have been duped by Lord Huntsley.”

  “Watch your words, Wilcox,” Thomas warned.

  “Duped?” Catrina repeated. “By you.”

  Branson shook his head. “No, dear sister. By a philanderer and liar. What did he promise you? That you would get to keep your money?”

  “I will!”

  Branson knew he needed to appear like the caring brother. He lowered his weapon as he addressed Catrina. “No, you will not. It will all go to your husband. He might have promised you he would give you your inheritance, but you will get nothing unless it is documented and witnessed. But I can rectify that. Just come with me, Catrina, and I will give you a small allowance to live on.”

  Catrina snorted. “Like I could ever believe what you say, Branson. You would not give me one shilling. You are only here for your own greed. Now leave so Thomas and I can marry.”

  Thomas chimed in, “You have had your say, Wilcox. As you can see, Catrina has made up her mind.”

  “You are in no position to make demands, Huntsley. You are only interested in my sister for her inheritance. Admit it. You need her money to pay off your debtors.”

  “That is a lie, Wilcox. I owe money to no man.”

  Branson tsked his tongue. “Come now, Huntsley. Lady Iris’s father owes nearly fifteen thousand pounds in gambling debts. I believe you swore to pay off Lord Mortimer’s debts, did you not?”

  Thomas ground his teeth together. “I did.”

  “And are you going back on your word?”

  “I am a man of my word—”

  “And how do you aim to pay off his debts if not with Catrina’s inheritance?”

  “I swore to pay them off if Lady Iris and I married. Since you planted your seed in her belly, you can see why I will no longer be paying off his debtors. But since you are now to become a father, those debts will be yours.”

  A maniacal laugh caused Branson’s chest to shake. “Why would they become mine? I ha
ve no plans to marry that woman. She was just a warm place to rest my cock.”

  Catrina gasped at the language.

  “Come now, little sister, you have surely heard worse language coming from this sod.”

  “Leave, Branson! I do not know why you are trying to convince me that you are here because you are worried about my reputation. We cannot tolerate each other. So, drop the caring brother act.”

  Branson shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

  Thomas took a step towards Branson. Branson raised the pistol in his hand and aimed for Thomas’s chest.

  “I will place a bullet in you should you come any closer. I do not relish the notion of killing you, Huntsley, but I will do so to get what I want!”

  “If you want money, Wilcox, I’ll give it to you,” Thomas said. He would not allow Branson to take Catrina from him.

  “You would pay to keep this thing? I find that hard to believe, Huntsley. I have seen far more comely women and those more pleasing than my sister.”

  “That’s all you are interested in, isn’t it?” Thomas asked. “Money?”

  “I want my revenge! It is Catrina’s fault that our parents died. Because of her stupidity! Yes, I want her money, but I want to make her suffer. To suffer as I have had to suffer. Because of her, I had to give up my youth. Because of her, my freedom was taken away from me. Do you think I wanted to raise my sister at the age of seventeen?”

  “How could you?” Catrina hissed. “I told you I had nothing to do with our parents' death.”

  “Yes, you did. You were at the well when you were not supposed to be. You were the one who fell. You were the one who became injured. If it were not for your foolish actions, our parents would still be alive!”

  “I wasn’t driving that bloody coach! Mr. Wilkerson was. So do not place the blame on me. Mr. Wilkerson likes the bottle. He was drunk and caused the accident.”

  “You know nothing,” Branson hissed. “And you will say nothing.”

  Her eyes widened. “He was, wasn’t he? He was intoxicated. That is why you want me to marry him. Is that it? You want my inheritance so desperately that you would bribe the man who killed our parents? If he agreed to give you my fortune, then you would not notify the authorities. Is that your bargain?”

  Branson sneered. “You are smarter than you look, sister.”

  “And how is that revenge?” Catrina asked.

  Branson did not answer as he trained his pistol now on Catrina. “Do not worry about that. My revenge is coming. Now come along, Catrina. Fredrick is waiting across the street.”

  Catrina looked at Thomas and could see the anger in his eyes. She could not allow Branson to hurt Thomas.

  Branson pointed the pistol back at Thomas. “If you do not come, then I will kill him, Catrina.”

  “No,” Thomas said.

  “Fine,” Catrina replied at the same time. “Just do not hurt him, Branson. I will go with you.”

  “No,” Thomas said again.

  Catrina nervously licked her lips. “Thomas, he has us backed into a corner. What other choice do we have?”

  “I will not allow him to take you from me, Catrina.”

  “Ah, how sweet,” Branson said. “Two star-crossed lovers. Perhaps it can end like Romeo and Juliet. Except this time, Romeo will die first.”

  Branson cocked the pistol.

  “Branson, please. Do not do this!” Catrina begged.

  A shot echoed throughout the room, causing Catrina to scream. Branson fell to the floor as Catrina raced to Thomas.

  “Are you injured?” Catrina asked Thomas as she ran her hands over him.

  “No. I am fine.”

  Thomas looked at the doorway to find John standing there, the pistol in his hand resting by his leg, his left hand upon his ear.

  “You killed him,” Thomas said.

  “Damn, that made my ear ring. Next time warn me.” John walked over to Branson and rolled his limp form over. “That was not my bullet.”

  “Then whose?”

  “‘Twas his,” John said, motioning to the door with his head.

  Catrina’s eyes went to the door, “Mr. Wilkerson?”

  Fred stood in the doorway, fear in his eyes. “I couldn’t let him do it, Miss Wilcox. I couldn’t.”

  “Mr. Wilker—”

  “I know I have done you wrong, Miss Wilcox. It was my fault that your parents died. I was well into my cups when I drove them home. I had no business driving that carriage but could not refuse them. If I could go back in time and change my actions, I would. I know what I just now did to Branson won’t bring your parents back, but I hope it gives you a happy life.”

  Catrina did not know what to say.

  “You killed Wilcox?” Thomas questioned.

  Wilkerson swallowed and nodded. “I had to. He was aiming to kill Miss Wilcox.”

  Catrina gasped.

  Wilkerson removed his cap and began working it in his hands. “He did not know that I knew. But I overheard him making the arrangements just before we left London. He hired some men to make it look like an accident.”

  “Where are these men now?” Thomas asked with urgency.

  Fred shook his head. “I don’t rightly know. But I wouldn’t worry much about it. Mr. Wilcox had yet to pay them. When they learn that he’s dead, they won’t try to hurt her.” Fred looked back at Catrina, working his cap with his hands. “I am sorry, Miss Wilcox. For all of this.”

  The corner of Catrina’s lips twitched. All she could do was nod her head.

  Thomas spoke, “Go on now, Mr. Wilkerson. I will handle this little mess.”

  Fred shook his head. “I can’t let you do that, Lord Huntsley.”

  “Go,” Thomas said again. “You have saved Catrina and me from Branson’s madness and scheming ways. Consider your debt to society paid.”

  “How will you explain this?” Fred asked, motioning to Branson. “I cannot let you go to jail for my crimes.”

  John answered. “We’re in bonnie Scotland. These bastards dae nae care if ye murder a Sassenach, just one o’ their own.”

  Uncertainty filled Wilkerson’s bloodshot eyes.

  “No one will know,” Thomas said. “I will not speak of it.”

  John shook his head. “Neither will I.”

  Everyone gazed at Catrina. Tears had misted her eyes. The only family she had left was now dead. Yet the tears in her eyes were not of sadness but relief. She no longer had to worry about Branson’s manipulative ways.

  “I will not say anything,” Catrina managed to weakly say.

  “Go on,” Thomas said to Wilkerson. “Gather your horse and leave. No one knows you were here but us.”

  “Thank you,” Wilkerson said. He turned and quickly left.

  “What has happened?” a voice said from behind Thomas.

  Thomas turned to find a dirty man standing in the parlor. The front of the man’s shirt was covered in soot and grime. The dirt upon his face was smudged as if he had tried to clean it with a dry cloth. The open door behind the man gave the explanation of how he got into the room.

  “Who are you?” Thomas asked.

  “Frances McPhee, blacksmith and minister.”

  “A robber,” John supplied before McPhee repeated the question. “He was trying tae steal from Laird Huntsley, sae I shot him.”

  “Who was he?” Frances asked.

  “How the hell should I ken?” John snapped. “He’s some dead Sassenach robber now. That’s all that matters. Help me find someone tae drag this bugger out o’ here before he ruins the rest o’ Lassie Cat’s wedding day.”

  “I cannae have no Sassenachs snooping around over a dead man. I cannae help ye. I dinna want nae trouble, ye see.”

  Thomas reached inside his overcoat and pulled out several notes, handing them to McPhee.

  The man looked at the money. “Ye cannae bribe me.” He then motioned for Thomas to place more money into his hand.

  After placing several more notes in the blacksmith’s hand, th
e man counted them and nodded.

  “Of course, Sassenach criminals are another matter entirely.” McPhee grinned, placing the notes in his dirty coat. “Gladys! Get O’Connell in here. Another Sassenach tried to rob one of our lovebirds.”

  Gladys stuck her head through the door, looked down at the dead man, and mumbled several obscenities. She then looked at the minister. “This be yer doings, Brother McPhee. We dinnae have none o’ this until ye showed up.”

  “I have nothing tae dae with the people coming here.”

  “Aye, ye do. Yer a cursed man, ye are. Cursed, I tells ya. Ever since ye arrived in Springfield, trouble stays afoot. Robbers and murderers and thieves and killers and—”

  “Yer repeating yerself, woman. Now go! Get O’Connell. I cannae marry this couple with a dead man in the parlor, now kin I?”

  Thomas approached Catrina as Brother McPhee and Gladys argued. He turned to see John joining in the conversation.

  “Catrina, are you all right?”

  She looked at him, uncertainty in her blue eyes. “Yes and no. I mean, my entire life, I have had a family. And now I have no one.”

  Thomas reached outward and caressed her cheek. “That is not true. You have me.”

  Her hand came to his.

  “Look, Catrina. I know we had an agreement, and now with your brother’s death, it changes everything. He is no longer your guardian. Your life is now yours.”

  “But the courts will find me another guardian until I come of age.”

  Thomas swallowed hard. “They will. And if you do not want to go through with this marriage, I will understand. I have been far from kind to you, Catrina.”

  Sadness filled her eyes. “Do you not want to marry me?”

  “More than anything. I love you, Catrina, but I will not force you into this marriage. I only want you to marry me if it is something that you truly want to do. Not because of your inheritance. Not because of my inheritance. I only want you to marry me for me.”

  Catrina threw her arms around Thomas’s neck. “Of course, I want to marry you, Thomas. I love you, too.”

  Thomas returned her embrace. “I swear to you, Catrina, I will treat you like a queen. And I will never keep your inheritance. Despite what your brother claims, I am a man of my word. Your money will be yours and yours alone.”