“Katrina, please, no more of this.” Tears glistened in her mother’s eyes. Within seconds, a fit of coughing erupted from her, as they always did when she became upset. She pressed the white handkerchief to her mouth and took deep breaths until the cough subsided. “I’m certain Mr. Jamison doesn’t want to hear about our pathetic past. The fact of the matter is, you are still entitled to your father’s money, and that is what we must focus on now.”
“Mother, he has never acknowledged our presence, so why does he want me to trek into the Amazon? And why is he giving me money for fancy gowns?” She tugged at the suffocating bodice of her new dress again. Irritation was increasing by the second because of the material rubbing against her perspiring skin.
“My dear Katrina, you’re a lady now.” Her mother sat a little taller as if proud of what Katrina had accomplished.
A shout of laughter blasted from Katrina’s throat unexpectedly. “I’ve suddenly become a lady just because I’m entitled to an inheritance from my wealthy father?”
“Well,” Lucy replied with a softer voice, “it appears your father is finally making amends for neglecting his only daughter after all these years.”
Katrina folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes heavenward. “Oh, please, Mother. Don’t get all sentimental on the old codger now. We both know why he is doing this. He is afraid Hell will be hotter than the place where he’s been living all these years.”
Mr. Jamison loudly cleared his throat. “I’m sorry your life has been so miserable, Miss Landon, but the sizeable amount your father intends to leave once he dies will keep you in luxury for the rest of your life. All he wants to do at this time is give you a small portion of that.”
“Mr. Jamison,” her mother said sweetly and leaned slightly forward toward the desk. She laid her hand on it. “Exactly how ill is Henry?”
“He is practically on his deathbed.”
“So, he could be dead by the time my daughter arrives?”
“Yes, Mrs. Landon.” He tapped his fingers on the desk. “That is possible.”
“Please, call me Lucy.”
Katrina studied her mother as she fluttered her eyelashes at the man.Dear heavens!Why, at a time like this, would her mother flirt? Then again, Katrina was used to the way her mother always flirted in order to get her way. It was in her nature to be so open—and somewhat bold—with men.
“That is just terrible to think Henry is so ill,” her mother said softly.
“Indeed it is, Lucy.” Mr. Jamison reached across the table and touched her hand.
Katrina rolled her eyes. Her mother didn’t care about Henry Landon nearly as much as Katrina didn’t care, and yet the older woman was putting on a good show. Apparently, even as sick as her mother had been lately, she still had that certain charm men appreciated. Of course, her mother still was very attractive. There was very little gray that streaked the slender woman’s brunette head of hair.
Sinking back in the chair, Katrina blew out a frustrated breath of air between her lips. She needed to focus on the matter at hand. Should she go after the money, especially knowing that she would be in the jungle when these awful things from her premonitions happened? Would she be able to stop them? Although she received these visions, she never knew if she’d be able to change things or not. Thankfully earlier, she was able to save that girl, but could Katrina do the same for her father?
And yet, having money was something she’d never experienced, and just thinking about it brought excitement to her soul. Her mother coughed again, the sound rattling her chest deeper this time. Money would certainly enable them to pay for a good doctor. Perhaps this trek was Katrina’s answer to her mother’s health issues and the lack of funds they had for a doctor or even medicine. In order to obtain the money for treatment, Katrina must go on this trek to meet her father.
Absently, she played with one of the tendrils curling by her ear. The fancy hairstyle done up for this meeting was not how she usually appeared at the tavern. Instead, she had always liked to wear her hair long as it fell over her shoulders and down her back.
“Mr. Jamison?” Katrina said, which pulled his attention away from her mother and back to her. “How does my father expect me to go traipsing through unknown territory? I don’t know the first thing about the uncivilized jungles of Brazil.”
Mr. Jamison shifted in his chair. “Not to worry. Your father hired an escort.”
“An escort?”
“Mr. Felix Knightly will be taking you. He is very familiar with the jungle, and your father has already paid him.”
Katrina turned to her mother. Lines of worry crinkled her forehead as dread filled her amber eyes. Her expression was etched with panic. Her mother looked exactly as Katrina felt. “What should I do, Mother?”
The corners of her mother’s mouth lifted into a helpless smile as another cough escaped her throat. “As much as I fear for your safety in the jungle, I truly believe this is something you must do.” She took Katrina’s hands in hers. “You deserve the inheritance, and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. We’ve been paupers for too long, and it is high time Henry Landon paid for his abandonment.”
Katrina moved her gaze down to the expensive gray Persian rug where her new shoes touched. Stretching her legs just enough to show the points of her shoes from under the dress, she marveled at how perfect they looked on her as if she’d been born to wear such finery. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected to dress with such refinement. Although the experience was foreign, she could get accustomed to feeling like a lady. Of course, it might take longer to act—or talk—like one. She hadn’t had the same advantage her mother received many years ago when her mother was the personal maid to a wealthy widow. But it didn’t matter if Katrina hadn’t had that experience. She’d gone to the upper streets in London to watch the wealthy people come to town many times, so she knew how they acted and conducted themselves.
She traced her finger along the gray lace sewn through the green fabric of her skirt and imagined dancing in grand ballrooms. Men would write their names on her dance card, while other maidens glared with jealousy. A tiny smile tugged on her lips. If only her friends in London could see her now. But could she do what was required in her father’s will?
Her thoughts wandered. She’d survived this long without luxuries, which meant she could live without them. However, her mother could not. She glanced at her devoted parent who continued to cough into her handkerchief. There was no guessing any longer. They needed the money to pay for her mother’s care.
The treacherous task ahead made Katrina pause once more, but Mr. Jamison had made mention of a guide. Perhaps the trek wouldn’t be so hard. After all, there had to be villages along the way and a nice road to travel since her father’s rubber tree plantation was buried somewhere in the thick jungle. She wasn’t even afraid of getting dirty since she’d been living in filth all her life.
Her attention shifted back to her father’s solicitor. “Very well, then. When can my mother and I leave?” Beside her, a whoosh of air escaped her mother’s throat accompanied by a harder cough.
