Surrender The Night (30 page)

Katrina eased out of his arms, sensing she needed to hear this news while firmly planted on her own two feet. “Yes?”

After an agitated stride away, then another back. Will stopped directly in front of her. ‘ ‘Even if the earl were willing to marry you, you couldn’t wed him now.”

“What?”
Katrina took a deep breath and moderated her voice. “Whatever do you mean?”

‘ ‘Have your menses been regular since the, er„ happening?’ ’ When Katrina shook her head, he nodded. “I feared so.” He paused, then said rapidly, as if eager to get the words over with, “The infection damaged your reproductive system. You . . . can’t have children.”

Katrina went ashen and took a step back. “No, it can’t be true.” '

“I wish it were not, but I fear it is. And I needn’t tell you how important heirs are to a man like Cavanaugh.”

Katrina swayed on her feet, then turned blindly toward the house. Will supported her arm, but she barely felt his touch. She was seeing and feeling instead the babies she’d delivered. Even more enervating were the images of children with dark gold hair and brown eyes she’d dreamed of. As with all her other dreams they would never come true. . . .

When they reached the house
Will helped Katrina up to her room and seated her gently on her bed. She sat as woodenly as a carving, even when he knelt before her and circled his palms over her knees. “Katrina, I’d not have told you except that now Cavanaugh is here, you needed to know.”

There was still no answer. Will cupped her cheeks and said deeply, “But I don’t care about heirs. My children are my patients. Give me a chance, please. You deserve happiness and I want so desperately to help you find it.”

Katrina shuddered at the plea and finally looked at him. There were tears in his celestial-blue eyes, and she knew he was sorry for hurting her. Moisture came to her own eyes. Oh, the waste, the terrible waste. Four lives had been shattered on that night more than two years ago; her babe’s, her own, Devon’s, though he didn’t yet know it, and Will’s. Katrina leaned forward, bent her head against Will’s slight but strong shoulder, and sobbed. Will embraced her and patted her back awkwardly until, with a hiccup, she subsided.

She accepted his kerchief with a watery smile. “You should let me do your laundry, since I have such a propensity for soiling it.” She blew her nose fiercely. Twisting the fine linen about her fingers, she murmured, “Will, I owe so much to you. If you truly want me, then you have my leave to court me.” Katrina’s icy doubts about her decision dissolved under the beatific warmth of his smile.

Catching her hands, he hauled her to her feet and began to whirl her about the room. “Katrina, Katrina, you’ve made me so happy! And I, in return, will do the same for you.” He stopped, brought both her hands to his mouth, bent his shining golden head, and kissed them.

Thus he didn’t see the tears misting Katrina’s eyes again. “I hope so, Will.” But to herself she thought, One of us, at least, deserves to be happy. And you, Will, are the most worthy one.

But after Will had departed to return to his rounds, Katrina stood looking out the small window at the rain-swept moors. She hoped Rachel had brought the laundry in, she thought vaguely. The mundane thought released the floodgates again as she realized that such would probably be her lot in life from now onward. A clean house, cooking for her loving husband, perhaps a dog and cat.

But passion? Love? Thrilling, heart and body, to a voice, a touch? Those were dead. May they rest in peace, even as she would. She’d been fooling herself before, she knew now. Some spark of hope had lingered within her that someday Devon would change and accept her as she was, love her as she was. But now, if such a miracle occurred, she could never wed him.

Will was right about Devon; heirs were very important to him. His heritage, his duty to his name had sustained him even as her faith had sustained her. Should he ever love her, be willing to sacrifice those for her, now she couldn’t let him. The spark of hope died, leaving the chambers of her heart dark, empty, and lonely.

Katrina turned away from the window, resolutely wiping her tears away. “Good-bye, Devon,” she murmured. Then she turned, descended the stairs, and sought out Rachel to help her with the chores.

That night, when John didn’t return from the mine at his usual time, Rachel and Katrina didn’t at first worry. But when he still hadn’t arrived even after the meager supper dishes were cleared, they began to start at every sound. Rachel was drawing her shawl about her shoulders to go to the mine herself when there was a commotion at the door.

Katrina ran to it and pulled it open, holding the lantern high. “Oh God,” she whispered. John was being carried by two brawny miners, Will at his side taking his pulse. And even in the uncertain lantern light Katrina could see blood. Blood everywhere. It seemed to coat John from top to toe. Rachel, who had come up behind her, screamed.

Katrina flung the door wide and caught Rachel’s stiff arm to pull her out of the way. The men carried John into his room and set him on top of the quilt Rachel had spent so many nights making. If she cared about the blood soaking every fiber, she gave no sign. She knelt beside her husband and stroked his brow with a shaking hand.

“John. John, do ’ee hear me?” When no response came, she looked at Will, who had turned up the wick of the lantern that stood beside the bed. Tears glittered in her eyes like fallen stars. In that moment Rachel looked her age, for tragedy had come to her too many times for her to be very hopeful now.

Outside, Ellie drew a crying Robert away to the stairs.
  Jimmy, who was home that night, clutched the door frame with white-knuckled fingers as he, too, awaited the verdict.

“I’m not sure yet, Rachel,” Will said gently, drawing her to her feet and ushering her to the door. “I think I’ve stopped most of his bleeding, but I need to look at his wounds more closely. I’ll call you when I know more.” With a meaningful look at Katrina he shut the door.

“Come, Rachel, I’ll fix you a cuppa.” Katrina led a dazed Rachel to the kitchen and seated her before the hearth while she hung their iron kettle over the fire to heat the water. Ellie came back down from tucking Robert in and sat beside her mother.

Both women sobbed quietly, clutching at each other, while Katrina brewed the tea. Jimmy stood at the entrance to the kitchen, staring toward his parents’ room. Katrina served Rachel and Ellie first, then took Jimmy a cup. With a great effort she kept her own tears at bay. She loved John like a wise older brother, but only by being strong could she help the Tonkins now.

She almost had to force his stiff fingers about the handle. “Jimmy, your father is the strongest man I’ve ever known, in body and heart. He’ll be fine.” Jimmy flung his cup away and convulsively hugged Katrina.

“Oh God, what if he dies?” he muttered into her hair. “That mean-spirited bastard. If he dies, I swear I’ll kill him.”

Katrina drew away to look at him. “Who are you talking about?’ ’

“Carrington. If he’d funded a new pumping system, this would not have happened.” He bit off several more foul names, but Katrina interrupted.

“You don’t know that’s what happened, Jimmy.”

“Et’s true, mess.” One of the waiting miners spoke up. He’d twirled his battered hat in callused hands as he awaited news of his captain; more, Katrina had deduced, his friend. The anger in his tone was almost as great as Jimmy’s. “John ’us tryen’ to fex one of the pump arms extendin’ down ento the mine when et broke loose. The wall fell on hem, tembers an’ all.”

“And if John were in poor health, the accident would have been the end of him.” Everyone in the kitchen leaped up at the sound of Will’s voice.

He smiled soothingly into the many anxious eyes. “His heart rate has stabilized, and the bleeding has stopped. He’ll be sore, and he may not have total use of his left arm, but he should survive.”

Rachel fell limply back down onto the bench, then surged to her feet, pushed past Will, and hurried into her chamber. Ellie soon followed.

Katrina closed her eyes and said a silent prayer of gratitude, then she smiled at Jimmy. “Thank God murder won’t be necessary.”

Jimmy did not return the smile. His expression had lightened, but Katrina didn’t like the brooding set to his mouth.

“No, but violence may be.”

Katrina looked aghast at Will. “Will, not you too!”

“I abhor violence, Katrina. I’ve seen the results of it too many times. But I’m so tired of this senseless waste of human life. Many’s the time John has pleaded for help from Car
rington. Did you know Carrington and his investors have even begun scrimping on vital supplies such as candles and rope? Have you any idea what it’s like to be fathoms deep below the ground and run out of light?’ ’

“Hear, hear,” said one miner. From the other: “Truer words ’ee could not saay.”

“No, I can’t imagine it, nor would I presume to try,” Katrina said steadily. “But I also know that two wrongs don’t make a right. Besides, what good will violence do? It’s surely only more likely to make Carrington close the mine altogether, especially as it’s not producing well.”

“I’m the practecal miner,” said the other miner, scars on both sides of his face. “And I’m as certain as I’ve ever been that there be a rich lode there. But we’ll never find it wethout the new pumpen’ equipment that lets us go deep.” He drummed his fingers angrily on the table, then turned to go, throwing over his shoulder, “But sence asken’ hasn’t helped, mayhap we should try tellen’.” He slammed out the door, followed quic
kly by his mate. Katrina looked at Will. “Surely you don’t agree.”

Will was washing his hands over a bowl on the counter. He lifted one pinkened hand to emphasize his words. “I don’t know what to think any longer, Katrina. But I’ve seen enough of this color from one class of men. Maybe if Carrington and his ilk realize their blood is just as red, we’ll make progress. It’s sure we’ve made none by asking.” Will dried his hands, then returned to his patient, leaving Katrina alone in the kitchen.

They were speaking out of anger, she tried to reassure herself. They’d never harm Carrington—or anyone else. The thought that Devon, too, could be in danger from his own men tormented her. She shouldn’t care what happened to him, but it seemed that neither grief nor anger nor even hopelessness could stop her-from caring. Being Katrina, she decided to do something to alleviate the tension. Slightly comforted, she waited until Ellie reported that John was sleeping soundly, then retired. She had much to do tomorrow.

Katrina’s heart lurched when Carrington’s manor came in view. How well she remembered the last time she’d been here. But surely she’d not be unlucky enough to see Devon yet again. She scanned the empty drive and sighed in relief.

The butler answered her knock. Katrina had borrowed Ellie’s best church dress, but the pins couldn’t disguise the fact that Ellie was taller and more voluptuous. “Please tell Lord Carrington that Katrina Lawson would have a word with him.”

The butler looked down his long nose at her. ‘ ‘My lord is at luncheon, but I shall inform him you’re here.” Reluctantly he cracked open the door, but he didn’t even offer her a chair. He left her standing just inside the hall.

Katrina stuck out her tongue at his retreating back, wonder
ing what tales he’d heard of her. More filth spread by Hennessy, doubtless. Of course, she only perpetuated the gossip by coming here alone, but she didn’t have a choice. There were more important things than her reputation.

Carrington exited from a door far down the hall, still wiping his mouth. He tossed his napkin to his butler an
d hurried forward. “Well, hello Miss Lawson. How pleased I am to see you.” He scanned her from burnished, severely dressed hair to clogged feet.

Katrina didn’t like the appreciative glint in his eyes, but she accepted his offered arm and followed him into his drawing room. He seated her courteously on the settee.

“May I offer you some refreshment?”

“No, thank you. My lord—”

“Please, call me Phillip.” He seated himself beside her and put a casual arm along the settee back.

“Phillip, did you know that John was injured yesterday?”

“Yes, one of the men came to tell me. I’ve already sent my condolences along to Mrs. Tonkin and promised to pay any medical expenses over and above what Farrow supplies.” When Katrina looked at him expectantly, he frowned. “I don’t know what else you want me to do. ’Tis more than many of my friends will pay for. Mining is a dangerous profession, and each and every worker knows the inherent risks. John most of all.”

“Yes, he, most of all. Especially,since he’s already lost two sons to your mine. He may not ever have full use of his arm again.”

Carrington shrugged. ‘ ‘That should not cause him any great hardship since most of his work is of a supervisory nature.”

‘ ‘Then you do intend to keep the mine open?’ ’ Katrina asked baldly.

“That is none of your concern.” Carrington snapped his mouth shut, then said more mildly, “I hold fifty-one percent of the shares, and the other investors have only agreed to keep the mine open as long as we have for that reason, and because the mine is on my land.”

He was being evasive, but she didn’t like his hint. “Please, I must know. Will you close the mine?”