When I'm with You (9 page)

“Of course, sir.” She swung the plate to Rafe. “Biscuit, Captain Sebastiano?”

She thought she saw a spark of something in his eyes. One side of his mouth rose in a cocky grin she knew well, that added to his rakishness, but his gaze remained steady. “Thank you, but no. I'm still quite full from dinner.”

Katie held his stare. It caught her, held her fast, and her face felt warmer as she said, “Of course, sir.”

Lady Sally's voice broke through the spell. “I would love one, Katie. If you wouldn't mind.”

Katie jerked upright and the motion sent the biscuits sliding about on the plate. Several toppled from the china to bounce across the carpet. Without thinking, Katie shoved the plate at her Ladyship with a brusque, “Here,” and knelt to gather up the broken bits before they were ground into the Persian carpet.

“Katherine!” Lady Marchand injected so much horror into the word that Katie froze, there on her knees, the sugar coating the biscuits melting into her palm to make it sticky. “What on earth are you about?”

Rafe glared at the Countess while the heat of humiliation seared Katie. She jumped back to her feet and saw her Ladyship holding the plate. “I beg your pardon, m'lady,” she managed to shove out, clasping her hands into tight fists. “If you will excuse me, I'll take that downstairs at once.”

“Yes, please do so.” Lady Marchand's voice was as cool as her stare, and Katie wasted no time in hurrying from the room, cursing herself for her foolishness the entire way.

In the servants' dining hall, Katie reached for a towel on the sideboard and brushed the sugar from her palms into the sink. It was very quiet, the only noise coming from the kitchen, where Mrs. North and Lucy chattered. Katie sank into Martha's vacated chair, buried her face in her hands and immediately regretted it as more granules dug into her cheek. Apparently she'd missed some.

With a low sigh, she picked up the towel and shoved herself up from the chair to go around to the water pump behind the kitchen. As she dampened the towel to wash her face, Abigail came through the door, her face twisted into a mask of anger.

“You sent someone after me?” she snapped by way of greeting. “And a houseguest, no less? You've some nerve, don't you? One would think you were head housemaid.”

Katie straightened up, water dripping down her cheek. “I did no such thing. They did that all on their own. Unlike you,
I
wouldn't venture into the bachelors' corridor.”

“You're a fool, then. Don't you want more than this?” Abigail gestured toward the house with one hand. “More than ‘yes, m'lady' and ‘no, m'lady' and ‘what can I get for you, m'lady?' Don't you get tired of serving, of always doing someone else's bidding? Tired of kissing their bloody toes?”

As much as she hated admitting it, Katie agreed with her to a certain extent. She did grow weary of it. She rolled her eyes. “Of course, but throwing yourself at one of the guests will only get you sacked. You ought to know better by now. Or are you so foolish, so arrogant, that you think you won't be caught? And never mind that Captain Sebastiano is going to be Lady Sally's husband. You have to be insane to pursue him. Insane or completely stupid.”

“You obviously haven't seen these guests. An entire family of men too handsome for their own good. And how does it matter? Captain Sebastiano isn't married to her Ladyship yet.”

Katie swallowed her impatience. “That's all well and good, but why lie to Mrs. Bates about the biscuits when you know perfectly well Lady Edna offered one to Martha? Why would you do that to her? What has she done to you?”

“Because
I
want to be the head housemaid and that will never happen as long as
she
is here. And who is Martha? Nothing to me but a challenge. She's hardly anything special, and I've displaced more important maids than her.”

“Rest assured that will never happen, not that I believe you for a moment. You'll never replace her. Everyone down here loves her, and her Ladyship is quite fond of her and will be even more so once she realizes what you've done. And she
will
find out. She isn't stupid and you aren't that clever. You'll be tossed out of here like yesterday's rubbish. I hope you're prepared for that. You'll have to begin all over in another household.”

That had to be Katie's own greatest fear. If she were found out here, she'd be lucky to find
any
sort of position in another respectable household.

Abigail's eyes narrowed and the corners of her mouth tightened. “Is that so? I beg to differ. If anyone is a fool around here, it's you. Do you think no one has seen your cow's face when you're around the men? You remind me of one of the dockside trollops who sees gold whenever she looks at a man. You see them all the time at the waterfront. And you are so like them. It's enough to make a body feel ill.”

“Like them?” Despite her quickening heartbeat, Katie shook her head. “You're imagining things. Delusional and cruel, and for what? Martha's been nothing but a friend to you. We all have.”

Abigail snorted, waving away the notion like a pesky mosquito. “She's not my friend. She thinks quite highly of herself, and I have no qualms about pulling the rug out from under her. Not one of you tried to approach me as a friend. No one treated me as anything other than an interloper.”

“So, shall I speak to Mrs. Bates about how you tried to corner Captain Sebastiano, then?” Katie had had enough of Abigail and was coming dangerously close to losing her temper, which was something she didn't want to risk. Still, she couldn't hold back. “Should I tell her I found you with him? I'm sure she'd be very interested in that little morsel, aren't you? It's nothing worse than what you would say if the positions were switched.”

Abigail's eyes narrowed. “That would be a lie.”

“What you told Mrs. Bates was a lie as well. It's different when the stocking's on the other leg, isn't it? Besides, I don't know you weren't with him. All anyone knows is that you were about to chase him down the bachelors' corridor, and there's only one reason why you'd do something like that, isn't there?”

Abigail closed the space between them, her nose practically touching Katie's. “You wouldn't dare,” she growled. “You haven't courage.”

It was unfortunate Abigail didn't know it took much more than a bit of nose-to-nose contact to rattle Katie. She didn't flinch, didn't so much as blink as she countered, “Oh, haven't I? Go on, then.” She narrowed her eyes. “Try me.”

The outer corners of Abigail's eyes twitched, but she held Katie's stare without saying a word. Then she stepped back. “You wouldn't have the stomach.”

“That's twice you've accused me of that.” Katie gritted her teeth, her hold on her temper tenuous at best now. Of course she wouldn't risk telling Mrs. Bates and having Abigail take revenge. But Abigail didn't know that, did she? “Would you care to see about that?”

Katie never saw the blow coming, didn't even know a woman could hit as hard as a man. Brilliant white light flashed before her, and the darkness rushed up to claim her as she hit the ground.

Chapter Nine

Katie didn't know how long she lay there in the dirt. When she finally came to, it was raining and her aching head spun wildly. Her black dress was a sodden mess.

She wasn't anywhere near the house but instead lay in the low fronds of a thick jungle fern.

“What the devil…?” When she tried to open her eyes, the left one refused to obey, only opening a fraction. She blinked, staring up at the cloudy sky. Everything was fuzzy, as if she peered through a misty haze. The canopy of palm fronds waved gently overhead, her vision cleared little by little, and she groaned softly as she moved to sit up.

“Oh…” She swallowed hard against the rising tide of nausea. All for naught. She dropped to her knees and vomited into the fern, gagging and moaning as her belly emptied itself.

It was awful. Every muscle clenched and twisted as if trying to wring all the horror from the fibers, to empty her of everything she'd ever eaten. When it felt as if she'd been turned completely inside out, she went limp and collapsed on her back, away from the befouled plants. She panted, trying in vain to catch her breath.

A fine film of sweat prickled its way across her skin, but she had no energy to swipe the back of her hand over her forehead, or any other part of her. She swallowed hard, wincing at the foul taste in her mouth, and just stared up at the raindrops pattering down from the leaden sky.

It might have been a few minutes, or several hours. She didn't know how long it was before her head finally cleared and the awful nausea went away. All she wanted was to stop hurting, to crawl into her bed and wake up to find this had been a terrible dream. Time lost its meaning as she just lay there, looking up at the sky through only one eye.

She shivered as the night wind blew icily over her, but it felt good against her damp skin. And it was enough to spur her on. Gingerly, she rose, reaching for something on which to steady herself. Her hair was a matted mess, her cap soaked and dripping water as she stumbled out of the bush. Thick, hot tears blurred the vision in her right eye. She didn't know what jungle creatures might come out at night, and had no idea if anyone had even noticed her absence. What if the house was locked up for the night?

With a whimper, she staggered along the path. The rain picked up, a steady shower drenching her from head to foot. She winced with each drop that pattered against the bruises on her face, even if it was cool against her sweaty skin, washing away tears, blood and sand.

She looked up and whispered, “Thank you, Lord,” as the familiar straight edges of Marchand Hall emerged from the darkness. It was only a few minutes' walk away. She wasn't as deep into the jungle as she'd thought.

Rain ran in rivulets along her temples, and she gave up wiping it from her face. Besides, it hurt to touch her left cheek. Her eye had swollen completely shut now, but when she came to a clearing, she recognized where she was—just beyond the hut where meat was dried.

“There you are! Oh, my goodness! Katie!”

Katie peered through her good eye to see Martha hurrying toward her, also soaked to the skin. Her thoughts were still on the sluggish side and speaking took much more effort than usual. “What… Why are you out here?”

Martha's face creased with concern as she caught Katie by the shoulders. “We've been searching everywhere for you! Where were you? What the devil happened to you?”

Before Katie could answer, Mrs. Bates and Mr. Jamison were upon them, with Mrs. Bates gasping, “Oh, my!” and Mr. Jamison calling, “Robert, fetch the doctor at once!”

“Do I look so terrible that I need a doctor?” Katie leaned heavily on Martha as the other maid helped her back toward the house.

“You're a mess, Katie,” Martha replied bluntly. “What happened?”

“Never mind that now,” Mrs. Bates ordered, taking Katie's free arm. “Questions will wait. Let's get you into bed and I'll have Mrs. North prepare you hot, sweet tea.”

“Allow me,” Mr. Jamison broke in, tucking Katie close under his arm. Mrs. Bates reluctantly released her to let him take charge, and to her astonishment, the staid butler swung her up into his arms as if she was the most precious thing in the world.

“I'll be up with hot water, tea and one of Ruth's poultices,” Mrs. Bates called from somewhere in the darkness.

“Of course, Mrs. Bates.” Mr. Jamison turned sideways so as not to bump Katie on the doorjamb.

Katie didn't argue. Nothing sounded as wonderful as lying down did at that moment. In her room, Mr. Jamison gently set her on the bed, and left them to allow Martha to help her into a clean nightdress and tuck her carefully between the sheets. She managed to push out a barely audible “Thank you.”

By the time the tea arrived, she was fast asleep.

* * * * *

Sunlight streamed into the room as Katie slowly clawed her way up from sleep. At first, she thought she'd simply dreamed what had happened by the water pump. But it all came rushing back when she tried to open her left eye and couldn't even crack it. Not a fraction of an inch. Screams of protest spread through her when she tried to sit up. From the waist up, everything hurt—her back, over her ribs, her shoulders. Especially her neck. She gritted her teeth and, with a low moan, finally managed to sit upright. She waited a beat, expecting her stomach to lurch in protest.

Thankfully, it didn't, and, bit by bit, some of the achiness subsided from her shoulders. Unfortunately, it spread upward, into her face. Her cheek actually throbbed in time to her pulse. She sucked in a sharp breath as she gingerly prodded the puffy patch of flesh on her left cheek. “I can only imagine how frightening I look. It must be a sight to end all sights.”

“The sight to end all sights might be a bit of an overstatement, Katie. It isn't pretty, but you were lucky.”

Through her good eye, Katie saw Martha in the doorway, but couldn't quite return the smile. “I don't feel at all lucky.”

“Well, you were. Incredibly lucky. What if you'd been out there all night in that storm?” Martha sat down on the edge of Katie's bed. “Mrs. Bates says you're to rest today. She thinks you should spend a bit of time on the beach, soaking up some sun. She seems to think it might help, especially the fresh air. You know how she is about fresh air. Thinks it'll have the bruises gone in a day or two. Three days, tops.”

“That I do.” Katie gave her a look. Ordinarily she would love to be ordered to sit in the sun on the beach, but she had the feeling even the gentlest of breezes on her face would hurt too badly. Still, Mrs. Bates did seem to think sun and fresh air were the cures to anything that ailed a body. “Did she really suggest it?”

Martha nodded emphatically at first, but then shook her head. “No, she didn't. I suggested it to her, but she did agree and she does want you to rest today. Possibly tomorrow as well. I'm still working on that with her.”

“I'm a bit of a mess, what with only having one good eye. I'll bump into plenty of doorways, and I'd probably frighten the guests.”

Martha laughed softly, patting her through the bedcovers. “What happened? Do you remember any of it?”

“I remember some, but not much. It all happened so fast that a lot of it is no more than a blur. I was having a bit of a debate with Abigail, and the next thing I knew, I was on my back in the jungle. She hit me, and I'll assume she's the one who dragged me out there. I figure she left me there only because she didn't have anyone to help her drag me farther.”

“She is rotten, through and through. Sly and shady, and she'll get what's coming to her soon enough.” Martha's voice was uncharacteristically hard, and her hand wasn't gentle as she smoothed several wrinkles from the sheets. “Did she say why she lied to Mrs. Bates?”

“She has lofty ambitions of replacing you as head housemaid.”

“Over my dead body.”

Katie would have laughed, but the most she could manage was a smile. “I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

“I don't, but you might.”

Katie cocked her head to get a better view of Martha. “Why's that?”

“Mrs. Bates and I had a sit-down this morning, and not only is she no longer angry with me, but she said she'd like to see me become Lady Edna's maid—her permanent lady's maid.”

Katie quashed the sharp pang of envy to hug Martha. “That's wonderful! That's what you hoped for!”

“It would be for me, but not for you if Abigail is hoping to leap over you to take my job.” Martha drew back, her thin, dark brows pulled low. “You're doing such a good job filling in as Lady Sally's maid while Helen is away, and keeping up with your usual duties, and her Ladyship is very fond of you. Which is probably why Abigail hit you. With you up here recuperating, she has a better chance of proving her so-called worth. Oh, you
must
tell Mrs. Bates what happened. Tell her everything, in as much detail as you can remember. It's important, you know. If you wish, I'll tell her. I'd hate to see you lose your position to
her
.”

Hearing Martha say that made Katie forget her discomfort for a few minutes. It wasn't often anyone told her they found her worthy of something, and to think someone like Martha felt that way made her feel better than any medicine could.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her throat closing and her cheeks warm with a wonderful tincture of pride and pleasure. “I will speak to her.”

Martha gave her a long, hard look. “Don't thank me. It's the truth. But you must promise me you'll tell Mrs. Bates what really happened. And soon.”

“I will in good time, Martha. You needn't worry about that.” Katie managed a smile, although she wasn't certain the left side of her mouth responded. Everything felt so puffy and sore and unwieldy. “You should probably go, however. I'd hate to see Mrs. Bates grow angry with you over this. I'd feel terrible if I cost you your lady's maid position.”

“I doubt that's a worry.” The linens crinkled as Martha rose. “Do you need help dressing?”

Katie shook her head slowly. “No. I think I'll forgo my corset today. The very thought of being laced so tight makes me feel dizzy. And I don't care how misshapen I look.”

“Oh, you look fine. You're just a bit…puffy.” Martha patted her leg through the bedcovers. “Get some rest then, and by all means, go for that walk on the beach. Sit in the sun for as long as you can. It will do you good. And try not to worry.”

“I'm not worried.” It frightened her, how easily the lie rolled off her tongue. She'd dealt with less-than-honorable sorts before, and hopefully Abigail would get what she had coming to her eventually, but still, she had to be careful. Revenge wasn't worth losing everything.

Rising from the bed took some effort, but she found the more she moved, the less it hurt to do so. She dressed slowly and, after making certain Mrs. Bates truly didn't mind her going for a walk on the beach, took herself off from the house. The air wasn't exactly warm. It held hints of chill from the previous night's storm, even as it carried the promise of spring as well. She breathed deep, savoring the clean scent, lightly perfumed with notes of hibiscus and rose. The sand was still damp, making the path well-packed and easier to travel.

It wound down, around clumps of shrubs and clusters of palm trees, to the white expanse of beach leading to the ocean's edge. There, the leafy canopy gave way to the blue sky and puffy, white clouds.

Here, the sand was drier, shifting beneath her feet, and she paused long enough to remove her shoes and hose. A smile touched her lips as her toes curled into the warm grains, and she sank onto the sand and lifted her face to the sun. The beach was one of her favorite places—whether in Bermuda or Jamaica. It was a haven, a place where she could think, or just sit and enjoy the sun on her skin and the wind in her face. No matter where she was or what happened around her, she would always find peace if there was a beach nearby.

The waves crashed hard on the shore, foaming whitecaps flecking the distance. The sea was rougher than normal, which meant another storm was rolling their way.

It felt odd to be sitting there, knowing she had the day to herself, that the only duty she had was to rest. It felt so foreign. Too foreign, actually. As it was, she'd much rather be working and
not
have a bruised face and swollen eye.

“Does his Lordship know you're out here?”

She sat upright, wincing as her back stiffened. The sand shifted behind her, and Rafe sat beside her. Shielding against the sun with her hand, she peered up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you had some trouble last eve.”

“Heard how?” It hurt to twist her neck in Rafe's direction, not to mention she didn't really want him to see her looking so awful, so she squinted back at the water, where the sunlight sparkled across the ocean's surface like a sure-footed dancer leaping from one wave to the next.

“Servants talk. I listen. They always know what's going on in a house.” His fingers curled gently about her chin and he turned her face to his. His jaw tightened, his gaze darkening as it moved slowly across her face. Heated embarrassment swept through her as he scowled. “Who did this?”

“No one you need concern yourself with.” She carefully tugged free from his grip and turned back to stare at the sparkling water again. It was safer this way, and that was the only thing that mattered where Rafe was concerned. He was dangerous, even if he had promised to keep his distance, to keep his hands to himself.

He would keep those promises the way a snake might keep its promise not to feast on a mouse even if it was starving.

She didn't want to be the mouse.

“Did someone try to force himself on you?”

She swallowed the harsh laugh rising in her throat. “As I said, it's not something you need concern yourself with.” She cast a sidelong glance at him. “And yes, I
do
have permission to be out here. The battered state of my face gives me an unexpected day of leisure.”