Angel in Black (14 page)

“Rina, girl — you certainly have God’s gift of understandin’ the animals. You were wonderful, child. Why, he’s as tame as a kitten now.”

Blake came alive, his initial ill-temper now pure, hot anger. “You old fool — she could have been killed! And you, Ryon, how could you send for a little girl to do what all you men couldn’t? And you …” his finger pointed at Rina, “I should turn you over my knee and spank you. What the hell do you think you are doing? He could have trampled you.”

The two men stood, unable to speak, his sudden outburst stunning them. Rina walked over to Blake, her eyes narrowed and her fists clenched by her side. She stopped directly in front of him, hands planted firmly on her hips. She looked up at him, unflinching and as angry.

“I’ll tell you what I was doing — I was saving your damn horse. How dare you blame Jenkins, or Ryon, I make my own decisions. Furthermore, I am not a little girl, and as any fool can see, the horse did not injure me. If you think you can spank me, you go right ahead and try.”

Jenkins’ face paled and Ryon’s mouth dropped open in surprise. They looked from one to the other in confusion.

“I should have let that giant son-of-a-bitch strangle your scrawny little neck. He would have done me a tremendous favor by getting you out of my mind, and out of my life.”

Blake’s angry words hit Rina like a slap. Blake seemed confused by the hurt he inflicted, uncertain if he was satisfied or horrified. He said nothing more and stormed away. The stable was silent for several minutes before Ryon awkwardly found his voice.

“Rina, I don’t know what to say. He was angry when he came home. I’m so sorry.” Ryon rambled on, embarrassed by his brother’s actions.

“You needn’t apologize for his rudeness, Ryon. His displeasure was with me — I’m sorry you both received the brunt of his anger. There is more to this than what just happened — I hope you’ll understand if I don’t explain further.” Rina took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Jenkins, I’ll be by in a day or so to check on the stallion. If you need me, send for me and I’ll come right away. I’ve tended your horses for years and Blake Roberts will not stop me.”

As Rina rode from the stable, Blake watched from his bedroom window. He lifted his glass in salute and mumbled, “Here’s to you, my little witch.”

Days passed and Blake never offered any excuse to his brother for what happened, and Ryon did not ask. Rina returned to treat the horse several times, but she and Blake went out of their way to avoid one another.

B
LAKE LOOKED AT HIS
pocket watch, impatience making him pace. “Ryon, what the hell is taking her so long? If she doesn’t come down soon, we’ll be late.” Blake continued his long strides in front of the fireplace, reminding Ryon of a caged animal.

“Rebecca will be down in a moment. She wants to look her best tonight. It’s the first time we’ve gone out since the baby was born.”

Every so often Blake stopped to gaze at the flames of the fire, dancing, consuming the dry wood. His mind drifted off to a night about three weeks ago. He could almost feel the softness of her hair, gently curling around his finger as he brushed the long, silky strands.

Ryon watched Blake and saw the change in his face as it went from impatience to tenderness. “You’re thinking of Rina again. You seem to spend a lot of time thinking about the woman. Have you bedded her yet?”

The question took Blake by surprise, and he flashed his brother a scowl. “What do you think?” His lazy drawl held a note of boredom, but Ryon saw his annoyance.

“No, I don’t think so. Is that why you are so angry with her?”

“It’s none of your business, Ryon,” barked Blake. As an afterthought he added, “It no longer matters anyway, so forget her. I have. I’ve no intention of ever seeing her again.” Blake turned his back to Ryon, pretended to be interested in the fire and hoped his brother would drop the subject. To speak of her brought forward all the confused emotions he had no control over.

But Ryon was not to be swayed. “Forget her? You haven’t forgotten, you think of her constantly. Why, I’m beginning to think you’re in love with her.”

“In love? Only fools fall in love.” Blake felt his temper rising. In love, indeed.

“No, big brother. A fool is a man who thinks he is immune to feeling love and too damned stubborn to see it.”

Rebecca entered the room and Blake’s sarcastic rejoinder failed to emerge. She was lovely, as ever, but it was the look on his brother’s face that stilled his remark. The love they shared so apparent, he choked on his lies.

He did not look forward to the dinner party given by Lawrence Langsford at Camray. He felt immense dislike for the man though they had only met a couple of times in the past. But Rebecca insisted it would be bad manners to decline the invitation, so Blake found himself on his way to Camray for a long, boring evening.

Camray was a beautiful estate, smaller than Windsong, but equally magnificent. Lawrence Langsford greeted his guests. Randolph Langsford acted an ever-present shadow, the younger man’s eyes rudely devouring all the women present. They were promptly led into an elegant drawing room to meet the other guests. Years had passed since Blake attended any social functions in the area and he found himself the center of attention, people gathering to welcome him home.

The last of those invited finally arrived, her grand entrance time to perfection. Dressed in dark green silk, Catherine Ramsey posed for the crowd. The gown molded to her full figure, the low cut bodice revealed the top of her creamy white breasts to perfection. Her fiery red hair was elegantly arranged with diamond pins to hold each curl in place. Sharp, green eyes glanced around the room and stopped when they reached Blake.

Boldly, Blake watched her as she made her way directly to him. She hadn’t changed any since he last saw her, with the exception of being a wealthy widow now. Like a bitch in heat, she sidled up to him, her sudden intense interest so apparent he almost laughed. No, she hadn’t changed at all.

“Lord Roberts. It’s so nice to see you again. You have been away much too long.” Catherine smiled sweetly at Blake and he gracefully bowed, kissed her extended hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Ramsey,” he lied.

Although his manner remained polite, Catherine saw the bored look on his face. She clenched her teeth in irritation and gave him her most charming smile. Blake Roberts was now one of the richest men in England, maybe the world, and Catherine was determined to have him for herself. The fact she had refused his proposal of marriage over twelve years ago was a minor drawback, but one she could quickly remedy. He loved her once and would do so again. After all, she was still as beautiful as she was then — it was only a matter of time before she would be Lady Roberts.

Blake sensed her calculating mind at work and knew Catherine for what she truly was. For the moment, it amused him to let her try to seduce him as if he were still the foolish young man she had toyed with before. As she chattered endlessly, his mind wandered, and had Catherine known for whom he smiled, she would have been furious.

Dinner was a long-drawn-out affair, and to Blake’s dismay, Lady Ramsey had been seated next to him. Elaborate courses were served, one after the other, making him wish fervently to be somewhere else. Unwillingly, he thought again of Rina, and wondered what she was doing while he was being tortured by the vapid Catherine. He wanted to forget Rina, but his brother was right, he did nothing but dream of her. His memory was etched with her picture, his senses filled with her delightful scent, and her silky skin. Blake could not forget her, any more than he could deny his own existence.

Finally, dinner came to an end. The ladies provided entertainment as they sang and played the piano. Coaxed to play, Catherine left his side, giving him a moments respite from her incessant prattle. Blake found himself thinking of his golden girl as she worked on the stallion — her skills certainly more important than playing a damned piano and singing off-key. And yet, hadn’t he wished her to be more like these ladies? He understood Catherine better than he did Rina. Catherine’s hollow selfishness and lying ways were more predictable than Rina’s wild unconventional spirit. Is that what he truly wanted?

Blake couldn’t stand the stifling atmosphere a moment longer, and didn’t know if he could take any more of Lady Ramsey’s cloying attention when she finished performing. When she started an encore, Blake slipped from the room. He found the door to the library open and wandered in to see a fire burning cheerfully and lamps lit on the tables. He looked about, and found the room finely appointed and the shelves well stocked with a variety of reading material.

Many family portraits hung on the walls, going back hundreds of years. Blake was drawn to one painting in particular. He recognized William and Virginia Easton, and sitting between them, their daughter. He couldn’t remember her name, for she must have been only five or six the last time he saw her. She looked to be several years older in the portrait. Blake recalled hearing of their murder by highwaymen and shook his head in regret at the tragedy of it. As he stared at the woman, he was struck by a vague familiarity. Blake decided he imagined things — they had been dead for over eight years. He heard a noise behind him and whirled around to find Lawrence Langsford in the doorway.

“She was a beautiful woman, wasn’t she?”

Blake watched Langsford, his mood guarded, but nodded in agreement.

“It was a tragedy they were killed, especially the little girl. It was a shame.” As Langsford spoke, Blake noticed his voice held the appropriate sadness but his eyes remained cold and hard. He knew his instincts were right; this man should never be trusted.

“I thought of taking the portrait down, in deference to their untimely deaths. But I thought better of it, so I might be reminded of the fragility of life. Something we should never forget.”

His statement prompted no comment but Lawrence saw the briefest flicker in the unreadable gold eyes and felt ill at ease. “Shall we return before the ladies miss us?”

Blake merely nodded again, and the two men returned to the drawing room. Catherine immediately returned to his side.

Chapter Nine

N
ESTLED AMONG A GROVE
of trees a short distance from the village stood an old stone building, once upon a time Camray’s winery. It had not been used in over a hundred years. The walls crumbled from age and were covered with ivy and moss. The doors hung loosely on broken hinges, and all the windows were long since gone.

The moon cast eerie shadows in front of Rina as she walked along the wall surrounding the ancient building. The front gate creaked in the still night and the wind whistled through the iron grille, but she did not slip inside to the inner courtyard. Instead, she continued on around the high wall until she stood in the back, where trees and shrubs grew wild everywhere, making the path difficult to follow. Making certain no one followed, she ducked behind a large bush and into a hidden door.

Rina carefully made her way down the steep stairs and darkened corridor, recalling her explorations as a child among the supposedly haunted grounds. When she had discovered the secret entrance and passage she now walked down, it delighted her, though she was slightly frightened by the black caverns she wound up in. Rina’s father had not known of their existence, and she doubted if anyone else did either.

After several moments, she saw a light in the distance, and soon emerged into a well-lit room. It was used as the stables and was large enough for their horses, with another smaller area to exercise the animals. In one corner piles of fresh hay were mounded, barrels of oats and water stacked nearby.

It was perfect, Rina thought with satisfaction, walking into an adjoining room. This was smaller, with a table and chairs, and other comforts of home scattered about. Four men looked up and greeted Rina when she entered. Jake and John smiled, excitement lighting their faces. They had thought her plans foolish at first, but now the first night was upon them, they couldn’t contain the exhilaration pumping through them.

Two other stout men had thrown in with them and for two weeks they made preparations. They all knew the countryside within a hundred miles like the backs of their hands. All five horses they bought were solid black, with no distinguishing markings. The men had already changed to their all black clothing; black hoods on the table before them. Rina disappeared behind the blanket they had hung for her privacy while they checked their pistols, knives, and swords hanging from their waist.

Donning her own outfit, a strange feeling stirred deep inside Rina. She covered her hair completely with a black scarf, making certain it wouldn’t pull free. The pants fit tightly, outlining her slender thighs and the shirt clung to her enticingly. Full sleeves buttoned at her wrists, the collar high. Rina noticed it cut daringly low in front, revealing the gentle swell of her breasts. She thought it all awfully daring, but decided not to change anything, hoping the men she robbed would pay more attention to her figure and less to her face. The belt fastened snugly about her waist, with places for her sword and pistols on it. The soft kid boots slid up to her knees, a pair of gloves lay by her cape. A plumed hat and mask completed the outfit. Rina couldn’t help but smile, thinking the people she robbed would not soon forget her.