When I'm with You (20 page)

Her eyes gleamed in the candlelight, looking shimmery and luminescent. She blinked, slowly at first then a little faster. Tears. She was holding back tears, although she wasn't entirely successful.

Damn, he hated seeing her cry, hated even more that he was the reason for it. He rolled to pull her atop him, and sought her lips with his for a slow kiss that reawakened his fiery lust for her.

He broke the kiss long enough to whisper, “I give you my word. Never again.”

Another roll and she was pinned beneath him. The smooth sheets tangled about them, bringing them even closer to one another.

Katie slid her arms about his waist, pulling him completely into her, and whispered, “Promise me.”

“With everything I am,” he murmured, and seized her mouth again, determined to prove himself with every touch, every movement and every fiber of his being. Somehow, he'd make her realize that he was
not
going to hurt her again.

Ever.

Chapter Seventeen

Katie couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so soundly. Her bed seemed softer than usual, almost what she imagined floating on a cloud would feel like. The sheets were smooth. Perhaps all she had needed was a good night's sleep. She stretched, smiling at how wonderful even that felt. It was going to be a good day, no doubt.

Then she opened her eyes, and the pale light of dawn was pouring into the room through the doors leading to the terrace.

The doors.

Leading to the terrace.

The only door in her room led to the maids' passageway, and there were no terraces of any sort. And the only source of light in her room came through a window that was high up on the wall.

Every last pleasant feeling drained like water from a leaking tub as she gaped at the clock on the marble mantel (no marble mantels to be found in the servants' quarters either). Almost six in the morning.

“Oh, bloody hell!” she breathed, throwing Rafe's arm from where it lay draped over her belly and kicking off the light sheet. She dove into the fading shadows along the far side of the bed, scrabbling through the half-light to find every bit of her clothing that had gone flying off the night before. Which was no easy task, considering her heart pounded against her ribs with enough force to crack one. Breathing wasn't easy as her sense of panic grew and raced through her.

The sheets rustled, and then Rafe was there beside her, whispering, “What time do your fellow maids rise?”

“Now!” Katie couldn't keep the fear from her voice. She trusted Martha not to tell anyone that she wasn't in their room, but she still had to somehow sneak down and get through the kitchen without being discovered coming from the bachelors' wing. How the devil was she supposed to do that? “Someone—Lucy, most likely—will be banging on our door any moment to wake us, only I'm not there!”

It wasn't the first time Rafe had helped her to dress, but his speed at corset-lacing still amazed her. When she glanced back at the clock, she found it had taken her less than five minutes to dress. Probably the fastest she'd ever gotten
into
her clothes. But it might not be fast enough to keep her from being caught.

She made to lunge for the door, but Rafe snagged her about the waist and crushed her back against his chest. “I'll be back as soon as I can, sweetheart. I promise.”

Katie savored his squeeze, accepted his quick kiss, and replied, “You'd better. And you'd better stay safe as well,” before hurrying down the corridor and back up to the maids' quarters, all the while praying she met no one along the way.

Lucy must be off to a late start, thank the Maker, and when Katie ducked into her chambers, it was to find Martha dressing for the day. She looked over her shoulder at Katie and smiled. “You
do
like to take chances, don't you?”

Her heart hammering wildly against her ribs, Katie sagged back against the door, fighting to catch her breath. “I didn't know I could run without making a sound. I was convinced Mrs. Bates or Mrs. North was going to pop out and ask me where I was coming from.”

“Do I need to ask how your evening went?” Martha's grin turned sly as she tugged the small white cap over her head and tucked a stray wisp of dark hair beneath it. “At least tell me it was worth it.”

“Most definitely worth it. Oh, Martha, ‘worth it'
doesn't even come close.” The smile taking over Katie's face had to be a foolish one, but she didn't care. She could giggle and smile like a madwoman, and not have Martha gawking at her as if she was indeed mad. Martha understood, and they could share such things. They'd giggle like madwomen together.

At the same time, she didn't wish to share
everything
. Some things were meant to be kept close and tucked away, and her night with Rafe was one of them. “I imagine it was the same as the stolen moments you and Robert manage to find.”

Martha's cheeks tinged red, and her smile widened. “That wonderful? I'm so happy to hear that.”

There was a swift, sharp bang on their door, followed by Lucy's equally sharp, “Six o'clock! Time to rise!”

Katie sighed, her smile fading. In a few hours, Rafe would be leaving, and she would only be able to hope he returned. “He has to leave for the Colonies this morning.”

“Why so soon? I thought he was going to be here a bit longer.”

“So did he, but apparently there was some sort of emergency. A missive came for Captain Sebastiano—his father—during dinner last evening.” Katie moved around the screen to change into fresh livery. “But when he comes back…”

Martha's face popped around the screen. “He's asked for your hand?”

Katie spun around, clad in only her chemise, holding her corset against her like a shield. Then she sighed, shaking her head as her spirits came floating back to earth. “No. Not exactly. And if he had, I don't know I'd have accepted.”

“Well, why the deuce not? Turn around. I'll get your back.”

Katie offered Martha her back, and Martha began the task of lacing the corset. “What if he sides with his family again? To say they won't be happy would be an understatement.”

“If he does, then he doesn't deserve you.” Martha's voice was flat as she tugged sharply on the cords. “And you should never give him another chance. Not ever.”

“I don't know if I can risk my heart again,” Katie replied quietly. “Nothing ever hurt as badly as when he turned away from me. I don't know if I can do it again.”

Martha spun her about and caught her by the shoulders. “If he did it again, I'd help you make him regret it more than anything else he's ever done. I promise you I would.”

“Thank you.” Katie moved out from behind the screen to the modest wardrobe, to fetch a fresh dress. “He's already spoken to Lady Sally. She isn't happy, but I gather she wasn't terribly upset either.”

“Did he tell her about you?”

“No. He isn't a fool, you know.” Katie dressed in the clean garment and went to work combing and braiding her hair. She pinned the braids up, tucked them beneath her lacy cap. “But I imagine she will spend a good deal of time in her rooms over the coming days.”

As she and Martha left to make their way into the kitchen, Katie's thoughts were nowhere near the lower floors of Marchand Hall, and by mid-morning, as she was on her way to Lady Sally's chambers with the laundry basket in hand, the last of her glow from the previous night had faded. She knew Rafe had taken his leave because she'd seen him at the front door, thanking the Earl and Countess for their hospitality. Lady Sally had been with her mother and father, and although she had looked wan, she had kissed Rafe on the cheek and wished him a safe voyage and quick return.

As Lady Sally had leaned in to give him that kiss, he'd met Katie's gaze. His lips had turned up ever so slightly, and he'd winked. Without thinking, she'd winked right back, which had made him smile a bit wider. Then Lady Sally had pulled back and Rafe's expression had become neutral once more, while Katie had had to turn and duck her head before her warm cheeks could betray her.

She was in the midst of gathering wrinkled hose from the corner of her Ladyship's room—how did they get
behind
the mirror?—when the door swung open and Lady Sally wafted in. She moved listlessly, like an early morning fog tired from a long night sweeping the sands, and crumpled into her favorite chair by the windows, overlooking the beach and cove below. It was the first time Katie had seen her up close, since Lady Sally hadn't called for breakfast or assistance in dressing, and her guilt surged forth at full strength when she got a good look at how her Ladyship was handling the loss of Rafe.

She looked ill. Pale. Exhausted. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She might have put up a valiant front for Rafe, but to Katie she looked as if she'd been up all night, crying her eyes out in the process. Her gown was a crushed, creased mess. From the looks of it, Lady Sally had taken to throwing herself prone on whatever flat surface was available.

Since she wasn't supposed to know what had happened, all Katie could do was drop the stockings in the basket and ask, “What troubles you, m'lady?”

“Nothing.” A heavy sigh wrapped around the single word as her Ladyship stared out the window. Katie peered out as well, wondering if perhaps Rafe's ship was sailing past. But no. The harbor was northeast of them, on the other side of the island. They wouldn't see him until he appeared in the doorway when he returned.

“I beg your pardon, m'lady, but you don't look as if nothing troubles you.” Katie carted her basket over to the hamper where Lady Sally deposited most of her clothes. Most of them, because the lady had a bad habit of tossing things like stockings and chemises wherever she happened to be in her chambers when she undressed. Quite often, Katie had to hunt high and low so nothing was missed when it was laundered.

“It seems I won't be marrying Captain Sebastiano after all.” Lady Sally stared out the window morosely, her chin propped on her fist. Another heavy, dramatic sigh followed her words.

Katie paused. “Why not?”

Lady Sally shrugged. “I don't quite know as he never said. I asked him if there was another lady, but he didn't answer me.” She turned to peer up at Katie through red, swollen eyes. “Have you heard any gossip, Katie? Has anyone said anything to you about Captain Sebastiano? Does he have another lady? Please, if you know, won't you tell me?”

The hope in her Ladyship's voice served only to make Katie feel guiltier, and she swallowed hard, hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt. She dropped to her knees under the guise of looking for wayward undergarments beneath Lady Sally's bed. She peered into the darkness, where only shadows peered back. “No. I haven't heard anything, m'lady.”

“More's the pity.” Katie froze at the flatness of her Ladyship's voice and waited for her to continue. But she said nothing else, just sighed again.

When Katie emerged, Lady Sally was still staring out the window. In the sunlight, she looked even paler, the smudges beneath her lovely eyes like purplish blots marring a fine porcelain surface. Katie couldn't recall ever seeing her look so glum, so absolutely heartbroken, and she wished, to a certain extent, she could offer up something to ease that sadness. But she wasn't so guilty that she'd cut her own throat.

“May I bring you some tea? Or perhaps some pastries?” Katie tossed the two chemises she held into the basket.

“No. I'm not at all hungry this morning. I don't care if I ever eat again.” Lady Sally shifted in her chair and sniffed, dabbing at her eyes with one lacy cuff. “If you hear anything, you will tell me, won't you? I just don't know what happened. I thought everything was fine. It's driving me mad. How can I fix it, if I don't know? Am I just supposed to sit back and let him slip away from me?”

There was such bemusement in her voice. Lady Sally was genuinely puzzled by Rafe's change of heart. Was it possible she really did care for him?

“Of course, m'lady. If I hear, I'll tell you. But for now, ring if you change your mind about those pastries.” Katie gathered up her basket and moved to the door. There, she paused, and on impulse blurted, “Oh, but you'll find someone to call your own, m'lady. A fine man. One who deserves you.”

Something that remotely resembled a smile briefly lit up Lady Sally's face. “Thank you, Katie. You've always been so kind to me.”

“M'lady?” Abigail appeared in the doorway, a beaming smile on her lips. “May I have a word?”

Katie tried not to scowl. Hopefully Abigail would take notice of the lady's glum mood and try to take some of the toothiness from her own smile.

Lady Sally turned. “What is it?”

Abigail pasted a more dour expression on her face, and Katie shook her head as she carted her load of laundry down to Lady Edna's chambers. Thankfully, she was much neater than her sister and retrieving her dirty clothes didn't take nearly as much time or effort. She rarely found a chemise stuffed in a ball or stockings behind the mirror.

After she deposited the laundry with Betsy and tackled her morning chores, it was nearly time for luncheon, and since her stomach was growling loudly, Katie hurried back to the kitchen. But as she rounded the corner and came into the room, she found Mrs. Bates and Abigail seated alone at the table, and neither woman was smiling. Even the air felt different, charged with electricity. Perhaps a storm approached.

“Katie, may I have a word with you?” Mrs. Bates's expression was far sterner than normal. As Katie neared, she saw the housekeeper's eyes reflecting something that wasn't quite anger, but more frightening.

Disappointment.

A sense of impending doom filled her. “Is something the matter, Mrs. Bates?”

“Actually, there is.” Mrs. Bates looked from Abigail to Katie. “I should like to know the reason why you would be in Captain Sebastiano's chambers this morning.”

A frigid chill ran through Katie as the blood drained from her face. “I—I beg your pardon, Mrs. Bates?”

Mrs. Bates pressed her lips together, as if composing herself. Then she drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Abigail seems to think you spent last evening in there, in the Captain's company. Is that true?”

“Of course not. That's silly. Why would I?” The lie rolled off her tongue so easily, she'd have stared at herself in disbelief if it were possible. How on earth could Abigail know she'd spent the night with Rafe? No one had been in the corridors when she'd hurried back up to her room. She hadn't passed a single soul, hadn't heard any noise to indicate someone was awake in any of the rooms she'd passed. “Why would anyone think that? It's madness.”

Yet somehow Abigail knew.

She remembered the smile on Abigail's face in the doorway of Lady Sally's chambers, and she wanted to throw up. Had she told her Ladyship? Did everyone in the house know now?