Surrender The Night (39 page)

She gave a tortured sob and flung his hands away. He sat back on his heels and shook his dazed head. This could not be. Kat wasn’t teasing him now. She was in deadly earnest, and so eager to get away from him that she hadn’t even noticed he’d had her bodice mended. He clutched the bedcover so hard that the satin tore, but he could master neither his surging pain, nor his anger. He uncoiled his long length from the bed, feeling like a whip poised to strike.

When she was fully dressed, she ran for th
e door—and froze, for he blocked her path. He knew his grim purpose was bare for her to read, but he couldn’t let her leave. Not now. Not ever. Still, his gut twisted at the fear in her face. He longed to see only happiness in her eyes, but if she cast it away so rashly, this time she had only herself to blame.

The bitter irony of the situation was not lost on him. Had he made this offer two years ago, she’d have accepted gladly. Now, when he was ready, even eager, and a better man for it, she refused him. What had happened in the interim to change her mind? Something drastic. Something she’d hinted at before. This time he couldn’t allow her reticence, for the stakes were too high: their future.

He took a deep, calming breath. “Katrina, you’ve no reason to be afraid of me. I’ll let you leave, for now, but first I want some answers. Why will you not wed me?”

She stared at the wall and didn’t answer.

His level tone grew rough. “Damn you, you’ll not leave my house until I know why.” When she only bent her head and rubbed her elbows, he leaped across the small gap between them and took her shoulders in his hands. ‘ ‘Something happened to you two years ago to set you against me. Something . . . awful.”

Her head reared back. “How do you know? Did Billy—” .She bit her lip.

His eyes narrowed. “No, Billy didn’t. But he will, if you won’t. Wouldn’t you rather I heard it from you?”

“Heard what? I assure you I’ve nothing to hide—”

“Too late, my dear. You’re not a good liar.” When her mouth tightened stubbornly, he let her go in disgust. Had she been playing with him all along, to get her vengeance on him? If so, he’d not let her see the bang-up job she’d done. He felt as if she’d ripped his heart out to tromp on it.

Tonelessly, he said, “Very well. Be mysterious. I hope your secrets whisper to you sw
eetly in your bed at night.” He unlocked the door and held it open for her. “Leave me.”

As she started for the door inspiration struck. “You shouldn’t be privy to my little chat with Billy. He wouldn’t want you to witness his beating.”

She stopped dead. “You wouldn’t!”

“You think not?” He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You know my sobriquet, Kat. You’ve used it often enough.” He turned as if to exit.

She rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “No, Devon, he kept his peace for your own good!”

That did it. He rounded on her and shoved her back against the wall, pushing her flat with his own body. “For
my
good? It’s for
my
good that the only woman I’ve ever cared about won’t accept my hand? It was for
my
good that my servant— no, my friend—kept secret information so vital to my future? If he’s known what happened to you for two years, he should have told me. Perhaps I could have helped you.
...”
His tirade trailed away at her ugly little gurgle.

It was a combination of a whimper and a laugh, and the desolation in it sent a shiver up his spine. He braced himself.

“Helped me? Dear God, that’s rich. It’s because of you that I almost died.” She shoved him away and stood straight. “You want to know what happened to me, Devon? Very well. Why should you not share the burden, especially as your own past actions have condemned our future.”

Hectic color burned in her cheeks
. She wanted to slap that blank look off his face. He’d no right to arouse the painful memories she’d labored so hard to forget. “The night I left you I was taken to a brothel. You know that, I suspect. Billy told me you tried to find me.” He nodded. “It’s as well you didn’t. You’d not have arrived in time, and I . . . wouldn’t have wanted you to see me that way. At that moment I think I truly hated you.”

He shook his head in denial, croaking, “No, please, you weren’t ... I know Satterfield didn’t . . . Who?”

Her laugh was bitter. “No, it wasn’t that. None has had me save you.” When his broad shoulders slumped in relief, her mouth twisted. “But there are worse things. Like—”

Her words were cut off by the shattering of glass. Shards splattered inward from the broken window, barely missing them. A deep voice Katrina recognized called from outside, “Come out, yer bloody worship. Yer neighbors wish to make yer acquaintance.” Loud, drunken laughter greeted this sally.

Devon stared dumbly at the rock that had flown into the room. Katrina blinked. Her transition from fury to fear was slow, but she’d barely put thought to action before she’d grabbed her shawl and flown out the door. She had to stop them!

Briefly, Devon teetered in shock, then he bolted after her. Billy was at the door before them. Through the front windows they caught the glimmer of torches against the brightening sky.

When Katrina reached for the door handle, Billy grabbed her arm. “They’ve been drinkin’, lass. It’s not safe for ye now. . . .’’He trailed off, but his look at Devon spoke loudly enough.

‘ ‘A fallen woman I may be, but some of these men are my friends. And they’ll listen to me before they will to you or Devon.” Katrina shook him off and opened the door.

Devon erupted into the foyer, crying, “Stop her, Billy!” Billy grabbed for her, but Katrina was already out the door.

The laughter stopped. Silence descended, then one voice shouted, “Whore!” and another, “Alius knew ’ee was nothen’ but a fancy woman!”

Katrina’s face didn’t show her pain. She drew her shawl close and stood tall, there on the doorstep, the rising sun illuminating the dishabille of a woman who had been loved long and well.

She stopped another comment cold with a disdainful, ‘ ‘Whore I may be, but at least I don’t threaten the innocent with violence.” Her gaze slipped over the crowd. Jack, as usual, was the ringleader, backed up by Davie and Paulie. But she also saw the miners who’d carried John’s litter, and others she knew. Her gaze slipped over a silent figure in the back, then paused. Dear God, even Will had come. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but even at this distance she felt his silent scorn.

Jack snorted. “Innocent? Ha, that’s a laugh. If his lordship’s so bloody pure, why’s he closin’ down the mine until he can bring in foreigners from Anglesey?”

“What are you talking about? Carrington owns the mine—”

“Not no more he don’t. Told me hisself he sold it to yer fancy earl.” Angry mutters rippled through the men. Several brandished torches and clubs as Devon exited to stand behind Katrina.

“Get back, Devon,” Katrina warned over her shoulder.

“Shut up, you foolish woman,” he hissed back, “and let me handle this. You’re so much in a pother that you can’t even please yourself.”

Stung, Katrina snapped her head back around. Very well. Let the idiot get his head bashed in, or worse. Perhaps it would do him good.

“As you’re all aware, my onetime friend Phillip Carrington would say anything to get his revenge on me for our, er, contretemps earlier.” Devon pushed Katrina aside and stood casually, one hand propped on his hip, apparently not one whit disturbed that he faced a mob in a dressing gown.

“Fancy words don’t change the facts,” Davie growled. “Now, thes es your last chance—”

“And it may be yours as well.” Devon scanned the crowd, letting them wonder at what he meant. When they were muttering again, he added, “Why in Hades do you think I’d buy a mine only to close it down? Or go to the expense of importing workers when I have such experienced help close at hand?”

There was a general shrugging at this. ‘ ‘Gentry don’t have the sense God give a goose,” Jack finally threw back.

“Brilliant deduction, Hennessy—if you substitute the word
woman
for
gentry.”
Devon’s gaze slipped to the woman at his side. His witticism surprised a few appreciative chuckles from the men, but Katrina bridled. Devon clasped the back of her neck when she opened her mouth. Her lips snapped shut and tightened.

“In a sense, however, your information is partly correct. I do intend to close the mine.”

“See? I told ye all,” Jack crowed. He came forward, a club clutched in his hand, but stopped dead at Devon’s next loud comment.

“I’ll close the mine only long enough to install a new pumping system. I’ve already sent for one of Watt’s best engineers.” Devon leaned casually back against the door fr
ame and looked over the stunned faces. “But . . . why?” one of the miners asked.

“Why, for the profit of us all. Your own practical miners have convinced me that there are rich ores lying in wait for us, if we only go deeper. When it’s installed. I’ll call you all back. You’ll have interim wages until then.”

Profit. That, at least, made sense. “Thank the Lord,” one man was heard to mutter. And from another, respectfully this time, “Thank ’ee, your lordshep.” Relief settled over other tough faces. One man threw his club aside, then another. They began to drift away, until soon only Jack, Davie, Paulie, and Will were left.

“Ye may have fooled these slowtops,” Jack growled, “but I don’t trust ye. Not one bit. Ye’ve got another reason.”

“Of course he does.” Will spoke for the first time. He nodded at Katrina. But his gaze was not admiring, or even grateful.

It required all of Katrina’s willpower not to bow her head, but somehow she met Will’s cold blue eyes. She flinched when Devon’s arm dropped about her shoulders.

“She’s partly the reason,” Devon agreed. He lifted her left hand and turned it so the sun struck off the ring. “You can be the first to wish us happy, gentlemen. A mine makes a lavish wedding gift, wouldn’t you say?”

Katrina started to deny it, but Will said rapidly, ‘ ‘Congrat
ulations, Katrina.” And, with erect dignity, he turned and walked away.

“Will, wait!” Katrina called, but he ignored her. She threw Devon’s arm off her shoulders. “You had no right! You know I refused you.” She bit back more when she realized they had an avid audience.

“We’ll settle our little quarrel later, pet,” Devon said mildly, trying to hustle her back inside.

Nothing changed, it seemed. Katrina was too raw, too hurt, to ponder his motivation in buying the mine. Had he truly intended it as a wedding gift? Pain washed through her anew. She rubbed at her temples, but clear thought was beyond her. Rage dulled the ache, so she deliberately told herself the mine was only another extravagant attempt at bribery. Even now, when he claimed to love her, he made her feel like bartered goods before these men she had to work with.

She gave him a look that would have made Medusa envious. Her answer was wordless but explicit. She ripped the ring_off her finger and threw it at his broad chest. It bounced and clattered against the drive.

She walked down the steps, passed Davie, Paulie, and Jack, and started for home. Jack, with a mocking look at Devon, followed her and engaged her in conversation. The other two scurried after them.

Devon caught, “I always knew ye was a sensible lass. We’re off tonight. Meet at the usual place at eleven.
...”
Then he could hear no more, but he’d heard enough to be suspicious. He’d be outside the Tonkin cottage at ten, by George. If he had to strip Katrina bare, literally and figuratively, to find out all her secrets, he would do so.

Fists clenched at his sides, Devon watched Katrina walk away. Flee, my darling, while you may. I’ll have you in my house, where you belong, soon enough. Once you’re in my bed, pregnant with my child, you’ll not be able to deny me, or yourself, any longer. He picked up the ring, wheeled, and stalked back into the house.

Billy had sensibly made himself scarce, but he also knew better then to ignore that angry bellow.

“Billy, get your ass down here. Now!” Billy made a wry face, buttoned his shirt, stamped on his boots, and joined Devon in the study.

A snifter of brandy sloshed in one hand as Devon prowled up and down. Billy knew that look, and he paused warily inside the door.

Devon turned on him. “I want to know what the hell happened to Katrina in that brothel and why in bloody blazes you haven’t told me long before now.” Devon took a big gulp of brandy. His eyes, steady on Billy’s face, caught the sunlight.

A captured lion’s eyes he’d seen at a London freak show had glowed in just that savage way, Billy reflected. The big cat had been so frustrated at his imprisonment that he’d lashed out at anything unwary enough to get in his path. Billy stifled the urge to run a finger about his tight collar. The easiest thing to do, of course, would be to give Devon what he wanted. But how would the girl feel about that? Billy knew how persuasive Devon could be. If she still hadn’t told him the truth, then Katrina was adamant that he not know. Billy couldn’t betray that trust, not when Katrina’s happiness was entwined with Devon’s. He didn’t say a word, though he took the precaution of putting a couch between him and his friend.

Devon flung the glass of brandy at him. “Answer me, you traitorous dog!”