Angel in Black (2 page)

“I will keep my promise, Papa and I will see my uncle dead.”

There were no more tears in the young girl’s heart, only a cold deadly anger. Katrina’s grim promise her only future, hatred and rage her guide in the years to come.

Chapter One

Summer 1790

R
INA TOSSED AND TURNED
on her bumpy, narrow cot, disturbed by visions haunting her sleep. She awoke with a start and stifled her scream, the silence of the sleeping village uninterrupted. The emotions the dream aroused left her trembling, her heart beat erratic, her breathing labored as she struggled to right her world. Slowly, Rina’s mind cleared and she made her way back to the present. The terror disappeared and she rose to light a candle, knowing sleep would not come again.

She glanced about the tiny attic room, its sparse furnishings familiar and comforting. The rickety bed and the old chair next to it where the candle flickered, casting shadows upon the walls. A neat row of nails held the few faded and patched clothes she possessed and an equally shabby cape for the cold winter months hung beside them. Rina looked into the cracked mirror of her dressing table. A mass of tangled curls fell to her waist in wild disarray, strands of gold, bronze, and copper mingled in the long tresses. She pictured her mother brushing her hair and a sad, bitter smile came to her lips. Camray — would it ever be hers?

Again, the nightmare interrupted her much-needed rest, just as it had nearly every night for the past eight years. Rina crossed the rough-hewn floor to the open window to gaze at the coal-colored sky. A soft breeze molded her nightgown to her and she lifted her heavy mane to allow it to cool her neck and flushed face.

Rina sighed, fatigued, and stared thoughtfully at the moon; a pale, golden sliver hanging low from the heavens. She thought of another time … another night. The nightmares made it so real, so terrifying, as if it happened yesterday and not long ago. Only, the moon had been full, brightening the darkness with its soft, yellow light. Rina remembered it well, too well.

Katrina had done exactly as her father asked, finding her way to Father Murray in the village of Tattershall. She told him what had happened, and the priest prayed for divine guidance. And his prayers were answered that day.

Jake and Jenny Tidwell traveled to Tattershall specifically to see Father Murray, an old friend. When they explained the reason for their visit, an idea formed in the elderly priest’s mind. The couple had lived in the village for years but moved away when an ailing sister needed care. Recently, Jenny’s sister passed on and they wanted to move back to the small village. They hoped the Father would help them find work and a place to live.

In fact, they had worked for William Easton long ago, before Katrina was born, and were fond of their employer. Father Murray knew he could trust them and told them of Lawrence Langford’s treachery. He asked if they would consider taking the young girl into their home and Jake and Jenny never hesitated. They longed for children but had never been blessed with their own. So Katrina became
Rina
, the only child of Jenny’s late sister.

A small, peaceful village, Tattershall lay about fifteen miles from the east coast, along the North Sea. A cluster of small cottages lined the cobbled lane; rough in appearance, but clean and neat. Being far off the more traveled roads, Tattershall saw few strangers. For generations, the villagers had worked the fields surrounding Camray, their lives happy and content under Lord Easton’s fair hand. But that all changed when his half-brother took over the management of the vast estate.

When Katrina first moved into the small cottage with Jake and Jenny, the villagers were cautious, their uncertainty and fear clear. Only two months had passed since Lord and Lady Easton had been murdered, and already they realized what life was to be like with Camray’s new master. Those who had someplace to go soon left, but most remained, the uncertainty of leaving more fearful than the hardships of staying.

Rina had not forgotten promises made that dreadful night and struggled to always be resilient. She learned to fight, to defend herself if need be. Jake taught her everything a man would teach his son; she could use a pistol, sword, and knife with expertise. She could ride and fight as good as or better than most men, but Jenny made certain Katrina never forgot who she was and her true position in life, also preparing her in the art of being a lady. Father Murray made certain of Rina’s complete education, including math, history, literature, French and Italian. On her own she learned the rudiments of medicine and healing, unable to forget the helpless feeling as her father bled to death in her arms.

Life in Tattershall had been hard for Katrina, as it was for most peasants. Despite the back-breaking work, savagely cold winters, and the grueling poverty, she never complained. Though her strength and independence were nurtured by a constant, bitter hatred gnawing at her mind and heart, there was also an inborn love and gentleness within her, providing a delicate balance to her world. This love drove her as powerfully as her anger, making her unselfish and kind to those she cared for. Whether she ruled Camray or not, she felt an overwhelming obligation to see to the people she had grown to love. In return, she earned their devotion and loyalty, though they knew her only as Rina, the Tidwell’s niece.

Rina came out of her reverie as a burst of red and orange streaked across the pink horizon and, gloriously, the sun peeked over the mountains. She watched as it brightened the sky with the announcement of morning. She grasped the chain around her neck and pulled it from where it lay hidden beneath her cotton nightdress. She lovingly touched the ring her father had given her, and whispered, “Papa, I promise, Camray will be ours again.”

Chapter Two

B
LAKE
R
OBERTS LEANED CASUALLY
against the ship’s rail, deep in thought. He savored the glass of fine brandy he held in his hand and watched as the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon. A golden haze spread across the water, the world turned into a gilded mirage. Blake knew he would never tire of the magnificence of a sunset at sea. A single moment where the whole universe stood still; and a comforting peacefulness seeped into his being as the fiery sphere dropped from the sky to leave him in semi-darkness. The waves gently lapped against the side of the hull, the sound soothed and the motion lulled. The moon appeared, lying low, cradled by the sea’s dark arms. Stars glittered and blinked across the sky in the age-old patterns that guided those before him in their adventures.

Lord Blake Roberts owned a number of ships, and his ships were only one small part of the vast empire built in the twelve years since he left his family home, Windsong.

He stood alone in the peaceful night and remembered how proud he had been when his grandfather turned over the running of their estates to him and his younger brother, Ryon. Blake was twenty-one at the time; young, cocky, and so damn naive. Eager to experience the glamour of society, he’d spent much of the first year at their town-house in London. It was there, at court, he met Catherine, a red-haired beauty with emerald-green eyes.

Blake winced at the memory, at how quickly he’d been ensnared by her flirtatious charm. In his youthful foolishness, he believed he loved Catherine, and was certain he couldn’t continue to exist without her by his side as his wife. Blinded by her beauty, he could not see the scheming tramp she was. He’d learned soon enough, though, when she spurned him for an elderly nobleman with twice his wealth. The shock and pain of his beloved’s betrayal scarred him. Never again would he play the fool for a woman. The Blake Roberts who made that vow was a wiser and harder man.

He took another sip of brandy and forced his mind away from Catherine. He should be grateful, if it hadn’t been for his need to escape the very thought of her, he would never have turned to the sea, never have established the trading and shipping company. It brought him both wealth and satisfaction. And he would have never known the peacefullness of sunsets such as this one.

A soft breeze ruffled Blake’s hair, and his eyes focused on the darkness about him. The ship’s rocking beneath his feet brought him back to the present, his memories receding to their proper places in the past.

The ship would dock in London tomorrow and within days, he would be home. It had been too long since he had seen his grandfather and brother. Now the old man lay ill, perhaps dying. The thought misted Blake’s eyes — he found it painful to imagine Windsong without his grandfather’s presence.

Blake’s mother had died giving birth to his younger brother, Ryon, and their grief-stricken father passed with the same year. Their grandfather raised the two boys and Blake’s heart ached when he thought of all the years he had been away. Why hadn’t he spent more time at home, especially during these last years, when his grandfather needed him most? The knowledge that Ryon remained at Windsong brought some comfort to Blake. He also knew the joy his grandfather felt when Ryon married a year ago. The young couple now expected their first child — perhaps the babe already born. Blake smiled at the thought of being an uncle. Certainly being a great-grandfather would delight Jason Roberts tremendously.

With one last look at the stars, Blake turned and went below deck to his cabin. Thoughts of family and Windsong made him realize how much he missed them. It certainly would be nice to be home again and enjoy the peace and love of family.

Chapter Three

T
HE SUN SHINED BRIGHT
and hot on the small group of workers. The unusual warm spell combined with the humidity gave them no relief from the heat. Rina straightened her aching back, resting one hand on her hip while her fingers massaged her sore muscles. She glanced around the never-ending field of wheat, feeling the sweat rolling down her back and between her breasts. Her thick hair was pulled back in a long braid with several unruly strands curled on her damp face and neck.

The others left the field to seek a short rest and a bite to eat. Rina grabbed her bundle and crossed to a nearby oak tree. Its giant limbs spread out like a canopy, providing shade from the warm sun. Deep in thought, she nibbled on a piece of bread and did not notice the young man who came up beside her.

“You shouldn’t be so serious, it makes you frown. You’re so much prettier when you smile, Kat.” A young man grinned at Katrina as he plopped on the ground beside her.

“Johnny, you startled me,” Rina scolded, pretending to be mad. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.” Despite her efforts otherwise, her frown turned into a smile and a mischievous sparkle lit her eyes.

“If you weren’t so deep in thought, you would have heard me.” John playfully pulled Rina’s hat down over her eyes, and tugged gently on her long braid. Rina laughed, pulled the hat off and started hitting him over the head with it in a barrage of painless blows.

“Okay, okay — I give up, Kat. You win.” John groaned in mock-defeat and stretched out his long frame, his broad shoulders resting against the trunk of the tree. His strong, stocky build with tremendously powerful arms and shoulders relaxed and he casually raked a big hand through his unruly blond hair.