When I'm with You (14 page)

“But you weren't?” Martha gave her a long, level look, and when Katie gave a slight shake of her head, realization dawned in her eyes. Her jaw went a little slack as her mouth formed a perfect “oh” of surprise. “You were… Oh, Katie…why?”

“Because I had no choice. I had to eat. I had to sleep somewhere. I had to survive.”

“And Captain Sebastiano…” Martha's voice dropped to a scorching whisper. “He
paid
you?”

Katie almost smiled at the scandal woven through those whispered words. Almost. But she couldn't quite manage it. “No. He didn't.”

“Well, then how did his family find out?” Martha's voice returned to its normal tone as she sat back. “Did he tell them?”

“We know from experience how servants talk. And the Sebastianos drew their own conclusions about me. I suppose it wasn't all that difficult to surmise. I looked the part. I was from the right area, the right part of Jamaica.”

“But you seem like a lady to me.” Martha clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. “I didn't mean that how it sounded, Katie. God knows I didn't.”

“It's all right.” Katie reached up to take Martha's wrist and pull her hand away from her mouth. At least Martha hadn't shunned her just yet. And most of her horrified look had faded away. Now she seemed oddly curious. Katie was glad her trust hadn't been misplaced. “So, you aren't about to ask Mrs. Bates to change rooms? To order me out of the house immediately?”

“Why would I do that? It doesn't matter to me, what you did in another life. We've all done what we had to in order to survive. Who am I to judge you for the same?” Martha caught her by the hand and squeezed. “We're friends. You've become like a sister to me. Perhaps that makes me fallen by association, but I don't care.” She shrugged. “It is what it is, and I'll pretend no different. You're my friend, and so shall you remain here as my friend, as my sister.”

A sister. Katie had always wished she had a sister. Unexpected tears stung her eyes as she squeezed back. “Thank you. You have no idea how awful it feels, to be terrified your darkest secret is going to come to light.”

“You needn't worry. I won't tell a soul.” Martha paused, her lips pursing as if a silent question dangled from them. “I promise to take it to my grave.”

Briefly, Katie smiled. “Go on and ask me, then.”

Relief flooded Martha's face. “I'm still confused as to how Captain Sebastiano's family comes into this. Were they in Jamaica with him? I thought they lived on a different island?”

“They do.” Katie shook her head. “No. Vanessa—she's his brother's wife now—had been on board her half-brother's ship against her will. And a fat man was bringing her to shore when she jumped into the harbor and swam in. The man came after her, and she hit him with an oar. I helped her up onto the dock, and she told me that the man she'd come to love was still on board her half-brother's ship, where he was going to be executed.”

“Executed!” Martha's eyes widened again. She brought her feet up onto a footrest, wrapping her arms about her skirts and resting her chin on her knees. “So what happened?”

“I took her to the tavern where I worked, one owned by a dear friend. I found out that the man awaiting execution was Captain Sebastiano's older brother, Aidrian, and that she was looking for any member of the family on Aidrian's orders. Captain Sebastiano came into the tavern, and I knew who he was—everyone in Kingston knows the family—although I'd never before spoken to him. I approached him, took him to Vanessa, and convinced them to go and get Aidrian, hopefully before it was too late.”

At Martha's increasingly horrified expression, Katie shook her head. “Aidrian was fine, eventually. But that night, while he and Vanessa made up for lost time, I was in the tavern with Captain—oh, this is too confusing, I'm going to just call him Rafe from now on—and after a few glasses of Jamaican rum and a heated game of darts…”

She let her voice trail off, smiling as the blush in Martha's cheeks darkened. “Katie, that sounds romantic… And he whisked you away from that life to a new one?”

“He thought to, or so
I
thought. He said he cared about me.”

“And he vowed to marry you and make you his forever?”

Katie hedged there. It didn't feel good to admit that wasn't quite the truth. “Not quite.”

Martha's face fell. “Really?”

“He wasn't looking to marry, Martha, and I wasn't either. At least, I didn't think I was. By the time we reached St. Phillippe, I'd be lying if I said I still wasn't. But his mother and father made it quite clear I was not welcome in their home.”

“Didn't he tell them…?”

Although it was the natural progression of their conversation, Martha's question still hurt, the sting as fresh now as it had been when the whole debacle had happened. Her throat tightening, Katie shook her head. “No. He didn't. He tried, but—”

“Coward.”

It was the same word she'd used many times, but hearing it from Martha made Katie defensive on Rafe's behalf. “No, he was in a tight spot.”

“Nonsense. A true man would have stood up to them.” Martha squeezed her hand again. “And he should have gone with you, if he loved you at all. But he didn't, did he? He just let you leave.”

“He didn't know I was going to leave. I didn't know I was leaving until I did it.” Katie stared over Martha's shoulder, at the swaying fronds of the palmetto trees just beyond the doors. The winds had picked up, blowing the clouds across the sky out to sea, pushing them into one another to form bigger clouds. “I don't really even remember going to San Marco. But then I was on a ship bound for Hamilton, and here I am.”

“And now here he is, as well. He's some nerve, hasn't he?” Martha's left hand balled into a fist, which she then buried in her skirts, as if she was afraid she might use it on the captain in question.

“He didn't know I was here.” It was touching, seeing how angry Martha was on her behalf, but at the same time, Katie wasn't so sure she was still angry herself. Perhaps she should be, and perhaps he didn't deserve any forgiveness, but she just didn't seem to feel that fury anymore. She was tired. Very tired. Perhaps the past was just where everything belonged—buried and forgotten, and left behind.

Katie sighed softly. “He's asked me to forgive him, almost begged me for it, actually.”

“As well he should. Beg, that is.” Martha's folded arms and cross expression gave her a maternal look Katie had never seen before. “And I hope you told him to go jump in the ocean.”

“I probably should have. I did tell him to leave me be. And so far, he has.”

Katie glanced around the room. The back wall was mostly glass, which made it seem even bigger, filling it with sunlight. The beams danced across the floor, glinting here and there as they bounced along the tiles and shone off the music stands. Light slanted across the harpsichord. For all of the instruments, rare and common, she couldn't recall seeing either Lady Sally or Lady Edna ever play any of them.

With a sigh, she ran her fingers over the yellowed ivory harpsichord keys. Several low notes tinkled out, and she felt a pang of regret that such a lovely instrument went ignored when she would love to be able to play it. What a waste.

The last note trilled into memory, and she looked up at Martha and shrugged.

Martha raised one delicate dark brow and her lips pursed. “And he's going to marry her Ladyship, isn't he?”

Those words hurt unlike any others she ever heard. A dark gray sadness billowed up as she nodded. “I think he is, yes.”

“You still care for him, don't you?” Surprise threaded Martha's words.

“I do.” Katie met Martha's gaze with ease. “He's a good man, Martha. He had a weakness, but he is a good person deep down.”

“If he's so good,” countered Martha, “why is he asking for her hand instead of yours?”

The answer was as simple as asking whether or not the sky was blue. “She is acceptable. I'm not.”

“Oh, we both know that isn't fair.”

“No, it isn't. But we also both know that's how the world works.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, Martha staring out at the water in the distance while Katie traced her finger over the harpsichord keys again. The sun was warm upon the ivory, but Katie felt a shiver run through her. She wasn't sorry she had told Martha, and Martha wasn't going to hold her past against her, but she couldn't shake the sadness wrapping about her heart, weighing it down. No matter how hard she tried, happiness just seemed so damned elusive.

Maybe that was how it was supposed to be for people like her. Maybe certain people just weren't meant to ever truly be happy. Was it reserved only for those who had endless riches and unlimited leisure time? The monied and the beautiful, whose lot in life seemed to be to do nothing but attend balls and cotillions, and marry equally monied and beautiful people. Meanwhile, people like her spent their lives—wasted their lives, really—dreaming of things that could simply never be and hiding in the shadows, hoping they blended with the scenery and disappeared.

“Would you give him another chance?” Martha broke through the depressing reverie.

“I don't know I'll get another chance.” Katie tapped a black key morosely. “I made myself quite clear. And he's honoring my wishes.”

Martha's hand came down atop Katie's to still the note. “If you had the opportunity, would you give him another chance?”

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine eating her words and her pride. But she didn't really need to think about it. Not if she was absolutely honest with herself. She knew the answer in her heart of hearts, and knew it with complete certainty. She looked over at Martha. “Yes. I would.”

“Then you need to tell him. Before it's too late. You'll regret it forever otherwise.” Martha patted her hand and rose. “I should get back before her Ladyship comes looking for me. We'll talk more about it after dinner.”

Katie nodded, her spirits higher than they had been in weeks. However, her good mood deflated as Mrs. Bates marched into the music room, her mouth a tight, white line. “What on earth are you both doing in here? Is everything that needs to be done finished? Have you not enough work to keep you busy?” She rounded on Martha, eyes blazing. “Lady Edna has been shouting down the rafters looking for you, Martha. Go!”

Looking sheepish, Martha hurried past the housekeeper, head down and hands folded. “Yes, Mrs. Bates.”

“As for you, Katie, perhaps you would like to explain to Lady Marchand why none of the dead flowers in the gallery vases have been replaced?”

“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Bates. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Oh, you needed some fresh air, did you? Well, you will have plenty of fresh air once her Ladyship sacks you and you have no place to live or work.”

Heat stung Katie's cheeks. “Of course, Mrs. Bates. Again, I beg your pardon.”

The housekeeper's glare burned into her back as she hurried out of the music room. Mrs. Bates was unusually surly that afternoon and Katie didn't want to risk her making good on her threats.

The flowers in the gallery were in sorry shape, and while Katie made several trips down to the garden to replace them, her mind whirled with Martha's suggestion that she talk to Rafe. Could she do it? Could she swallow her pride long enough to confess that she still cared for him?

Then again, what did she stand to lose if she didn't?

Chapter Thirteen

Rafe squinted up at the sky, frowning at the gathering clouds as he moved across the
Eastwind
's main deck. They were gray about the edges. In the distance, the whitecaps peaked higher as the water grew rougher. He hoped the storm passed them over.

He didn't know how much more togetherness he could stand with his family. His mother hadn't brought up his proposing to Sally, and for that he was grateful. But he knew it was only a matter of time before the subject reared its ugly head again.

So far, Serena hadn't been much help. How could she, when he hadn't had a chance to corner Katie and speak with her, his promise to stay away be damned? He didn't want to stay away. He couldn't. He caught glimpses of Katie, heard snippets of her sweet voice along the corridors, and each time the fire within him raged a little hotter. The desire to grab her, to wrap his arms around her and never let her go was an ache now, one that spread into a true physical pain, a longing unlike any he'd ever felt before.

It didn't help matters that Serena was gone more than she was in residence. Lady Marchand enjoyed shopping and so monopolized her female guests' days with almost daily excursions into the village. It amazed him how much shopping Hamilton women could do. Marriage to Sally would no doubt have been expensive.

“Where are you?” Conn asked, crossing over to stand beside him at the bow. “You've been staring out at the water for almost ten minutes.”

“I don't know. Anywhere but here, I suppose.” Rafe faced Conn, turning his back to the water as he leaned against the rail. “Were you waiting for an answer on something?”

“No. I was waiting for you to blink. What's weighing you down? You've been somewhere else for the last two days.”

Rafe shrugged, resisting the urge to go back to gazing at the water. “I suppose I have. I'm itching to get off this island.”

Conn grinned. “In a hurry to spend some alone time with Lady Sally?”

“No. I mean away from all of this. And all of them.” Rafe threw his arms wide and gestured all around him. A little less than thirty months separated him from his two younger brothers; yet at moments like this he felt at least a hundred years older.

Sometimes he envied their devil-may-care attitudes. He was more serious, more like Aidrian in that respect. Responsibility lay heavily on his shoulders and usually he embraced it, especially these days, with Aidrian so busy elsewhere.

When Katie had disappeared, and Aidrian had made his decision to remain on St. Phillippe, Rafe had been more than happy to travel and hadn't cared how long he was gone. He had needed the distraction. But now distraction was no longer necessary.

He needed to resolve things with Katie. He'd lived without her for almost an entire year and didn't want to do so any longer. He just had to untangle himself from Sally first.

As if he reading his thoughts, Conn broke in. “If you don't want to marry her, don't marry her. No one can force you into it.” For once, there wasn't a trace of humor in his voice.

If only it was that simple. He shook his head. No one else knew how much trouble Sebastiano was in. As far as Rafe knew, he was the only one Inigo had told. It was time to let Conn in on the secret. “Sebastiano needs the Hamilton money.”

“Not badly enough for you to do something as serious as marry a woman you don't want.” Conn shook his head. His hands came down on the railing, and it was his turn to stare out at the water. “I know
Papi
's kept quiet and I know we're hurting, but it isn't the first time and I doubt it will be the last.
We've been through rough times before and come out of it without Hamilton's help. What's so special about this time?”

“There's too much counting on this, Conn. Hamilton pulls his backing and we could go under.”

“And Hamilton could lose his fortune tomorrow. Then what? If you ask me, it's because
Mami
is afraid you're going to bring another Katie home. Or worse, that you'll bring this Katie back.” Conn glanced over at him, one eyebrow peaked at Rafe's stare. “What? Did you think I wouldn't recognize her?”

Rafe's already low spirits sank further. “And Galen?”

“Him too.”

“Damn it.”

“You don't have to worry. No one's saying anything. Far be it for me to stand in the way of a lady trying to better herself.” Conn clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “What I don't get is why you're moping about here, when you could be with her. She's here. You're here. Now's your chance.”

“Because she's asked me to leave her alone.”

Conn's eyes narrowed, and he rubbed his chin slowly. Then with a shrug and a snort, he said, “Coward.”

Rafe glared at him. Conn was unusually serious, staring hard at him as if he'd caught Rafe doing something unspeakable, something despicable. It was the same look Aidrian often gave Conn when he caught him doing something stupid. It wasn't often Conn had the opportunity to scold one of his older brothers, although he didn't seem angry, just disgusted. Either way, Rafe didn't like being on the receiving end of it.

It was one thing to tell himself he was a coward, but quite another to hear Conn do the same. It rankled. Badly. “I beg your pardon?”

“You're a coward, Rafe. A scared little boy afraid of making
Mami
and
Papi
angry. You don't deserve to be happy at all. And you damn well know it. Makes me think perhaps Katie is too good for you.”

Irritation swelled within his gut. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“The hell I don't. Go and talk to her. For mercy's sake, just do it, will you? I'm tired of seeing you stare after her, and her stare after you. It's turning my stomach, and it isn't like you. For the love of all that is holy, just talk to her.”

“I have too much to do here. I'm trying to ready the ship for a voyage north, remember.”

“I can do that. I'll gladly ready everything for you. I'll deal with all of it—the merchants, the hassles, all of it. Just go talk to Katie.” Conn reached out to grab the handful of papers clutched in Rafe's hand. “Set things right before it's too late and you hate yourself for the rest of your days for not having the courage, because we both know you eventually will.”

Rafe stared at him for a long moment. Conn was never serious if he could help it. But he was right. Rafe would hate himself, just as he already did for his lack of courage once before. Maybe he didn't need Serena after all. Marchand Hall would be relatively empty. Katie would have no excuse to avoid him.

“I'm waiting for Ortiz and Manuel to return from—”

“I know. I was here.” Conn waved the papers in the general direction of the Marchand coach that had brought them to the harbor hours earlier. “Just go. Before the ladies get tired of shopping and
Papi
comes topside. You can blow it all on your own, but I'm not going to help you do it.”

That was all the prodding Rafe needed. Less than a minute later, he was tucked inside the coach, rocking his way back toward Marchand Hall. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so jumpy, like he had a bellyful of crickets. It was nauseating and exhilarating at the same time. Impatience got the better of him and they'd barely cleared the gates at Marchand Hall's drive when he was leaping out of the coach to hurry toward the main house, ignoring the coachman's worry-laden, “Captain Sebastiano? Are you all right?”

He hurried along the stone walk to the kitchen door. Thankfully, the kitchen was empty as he hurried through and up the staircase toward the attics. He didn't know which room was Katie's, but he could hardly go back down and ask someone.

Fortunately, there were only six doors, three on either side of the maids' corridor. Unfortunately, as he paused to open the first door, one of the other maids rounded the far corner and they spotted one another at the same time.

He froze. She was a small woman with dark hair, and her hands were buried in her clean apron. Abigail? Martha? Damn it. He couldn't tell them apart. He didn't know any of them well enough, with Katie being the only exception.

The woman stared at him, and then, to his surprise, smiled. “Captain Sebastiano, what are you doing up here?”

“Actually, I was looking for Katie.” The words were out before he could stop them, and he winced even as he lamely added, “Do you know where she is?”

“She's somewhere below. I could find her for you.” Her smile widened, and he wondered if he'd made a mistake, telling her his real reason for being there. It was too late to worry about it, so he tried to ignore the chill of foreboding as it crept over him.

“That won't be necessary. I could—”

“Nonsense,” she told him firmly, marching up to slip her hand through his elbow. “Come. You can wait in her chambers.”

For a small woman, she was stronger than she looked, although he wasn't really putting up much of a fight as he allowed her to pull him down to the last door on the left. “This really isn't necessary. I don't want to get her in trouble.”

“You won't. No trouble a'tall. I'm not about to tell anyone you're here.” She smiled as she thrust open the door. “I'll be back as soon as I find her, Captain.”

Before he could protest further, she shoved him into the small room and closed the door quietly behind him. He looked at the small window on the far wall. It let in sunlight, but it also showed the room was in dire need of a fresh coat of whitewash. The walls were clean but dingy, and the two narrow beds bore equally worn quilts.

Katie deserved more than these cramped, rundown quarters. He wondered which bed was hers, as there were no personal artifacts on either, and he smiled when he heard the
swish
of returning footfalls. His heart actually sped up a little. This time, Katie wasn't going to turn him away.

The door opened, but before he could turn to her, a bright light exploded before his eyes, fireworks erupted inside his skull and blackness came rushing up to swallow him in one bite.

* * * * *

Martha burst through the doors like a woman on a mission. “Katie, he's here!”

Katie jumped at the unexpected sound of her excited voice, spinning about from the bottles she'd been dusting in Lady Sally's room, knocking half of them over in her haste. “What the— Martha, what're you doing? I almost broke all of them!”

Martha didn't look the least bit contrite as she grabbed Katie by the arm with one hand and yanked the rag away from her with the other. “Come with me
now
. He's above, waiting for you.”

As she spoke, Martha tugged Katie's wrist, dragging her across the room toward the door. Katie frowned. “Who's above? What are you about, Martha?”

“Captain Sebastiano!” Although it was a whisper, Katie still winced, as it sounded loud enough to her to reverberate throughout the entire floor. “And I'd hate for someone else to find him before you do. That would make for a terrible mess. And many tall tales. I'm not up to spinning any tales right now, tall or otherwise.”

“A terrible mess? Have you gone completely mad? You smuggled him into our
room
?”

“That's the beauty of it.” Martha grinned wildly at her over one shoulder. “I just happened upon him. He'd come looking for you.”

Katie's belly did a mighty flip at Martha's pronouncement and a thousand butterflies took flight, wildly flapping their wings to spread a delicious tremble all through her. “He did?”

“He did. Now, come along before Mrs. Bates happens upon him. Or us.”

That was all Katie needed to hasten her stride, although she tried to keep as quiet as possible. It would be bad enough if Mrs. Bates caught her shirking her duties a second time. She didn't want to think about the housekeeper catching her with Rafe in her room.

They ascended to the maids' corridor, and Katie could barely breathe from the rush of happiness surging through her. Only a few minutes earlier she had been certain she'd never see Rafe again, aside from a passing glance now and then.

“Captain, here she—” Martha pushed open their door and her happy words died, falling to the floor with a thud. “What in God's name…?”

Katie gasped as the door swung open and they found Rafe sprawled facedown on the floor. A shattered vase lay beside him, shards littering the carpet like dead leaves on the ground.

Gathering her skirts to tuck about her knees, Katie crouched beside him and grabbed his shoulder. “Rafe? If you can hear me, you
must
open your eyes.”

No response.

Ignoring her rising panic, Katie tried again, shaking him harder. “Rafe? Please…this is important. Open your eyes!”

When he remained silent, Martha also crouched. “I don't think he can hear you, Katie.”

“I know!” Katie bit her bottom lip as she pondered their dilemma. “We need to move him. Now.”

“Oh, my,” Martha mused, staring down at him. “I have to admit, he does fill out a pair of breeches quite nicely. You have excellent taste in men, Katie.”

“Martha!” Katie let out a bark of shocked laughter. “Now is
not
the time to admire
him! We need to move him. Would you care to guess who did this and why?”

“That bitch…” Martha growled. “We can't possibly move him all the way back to the bachelors' wing by ourselves. Look at the size of him. Never mind what happens if we're caught moving him. How do we explain
that
?”

“Do you have a better suggestion? Where do you think Abigail is right now? Probably fetching Mrs. Bates. And if she comes up here now, we're
both
going to be tossed out on our ears.” Katie knelt to grasp his ankles. “Take his hands. We have to move him. Now.”

“We don't have much time, Katie. Maybe I should go find Josephine and get her to help us.”