He turned and walked toward the door. She glared his way, wishing her hatred for him would somehow come through her eyes and burn him to a crisp. “Robert?”
He reached the door, stopped and turned toward her. “Yes.”
“How are you so certain Felix has left?” Her voice shook, but she couldn’t help it.
The smirk he wore earlier came back, but fuller this time. “Have you forgotten so soon? I’m a powerful man in this part of Brazil. I have many contacts. I make it my business to know what goes on.”
She didn’t doubt that for one moment. Robert was just the kind of man who wouldn’t let anything slip through his fingers. No wonder he was able to create such havoc during the trek.
Nodding, she said, “Fine.” She turned her attention back out the window. The rain hadn’t let up, and she prayed that it would so they could return to Macapá quickly. Hiking through mud wasn’t her idea of traveling fast.
She moved out of her chair and walked out of the parlor. The house seemed empty—void of voices. The only sound was the rain slapping the roof in a steady rhythm, making her more tired.
I hate rain!
Yet she hadn’t cared about the rain when she was with Felix.
Silently, she groaned, wishing she would stop thinking about him. She prayed God would take away her memories of Felix. She wanted them to leave her and allow her mind—and heart—to be at peace.
As she passed a window, a movement from outside caught her eye. Robert was leaving the house.Thank the Lord!She, along with her father’s servants, seemed to walk carefully when Robert was around.
She turned away from the window and decided to check on her father again. Too bad his doctor couldn’t do anything to make Henry well. It was very unfortunate that she would lose her father right after getting to know him. Better late than never, she supposed.
After climbing the stairs, she paused at the top. Another large window stood right before her, giving her an ample view of one section of the fields outside. Even through the downpour, she detected a cluster of houses off in the distance, almost like a small village. She moved closer, narrowing her gaze. Perhaps it would be easier to see if the rain wasn’t coming down in buckets.
The rustling of a woman’s skirt came from behind her, and Katrina spun around to see who was coming up the hall. The housekeeper hummed a tune as she carried a stack of towels in her arms.
“Mrs. Cooney, would you answer a question for me?” Katrina asked.
“Sho, dearie. Wut is it?”
Katrina pointed to the houses out the window. “Who lives out there?”
“De field workers.” The older woman smiled.
“Thank you.” Katrina gave the older woman a nod, and then the housekeeper wobbled away with the towels.
Up the hall a little more, the squeak from an opening door captured Katrina’s attention. The servant who’d brought her tea earlier was maneuvering herself and a tray carrying a teapot and cup out of one of the doors leading to a different corridor. Once she closed the door, she wiggled a key from her pocket and locked the door quietly. The woman then took soft steps toward Henry’s chambers. Steam rose from the teapot, giving off that incredibly strong odor Katrina had smelled before.
The solemn expression on the maid’s face made Katrina curious. In fact, many things made her wonder what was going on. First, why was that particular door locked when the other doors weren’t? Second, why was the maid being so discreet? But the main question in Katrina’s mind was why was she carrying the fresh tea out of a regular room instead of the kitchen?
Once the maid disappeared into Henry’s chamber, Katrina hurried to the locked door. One good thing about being raised in the slums of London was that she had friends who taught her how to pick a lock, among other vices. She fished through the coil on the back of her head and pulled out two hairpins.
After wiggling the hairpins in the key-lock, it clicked. She opened the door and stepped inside. Another long hallway ran before her, and she walked slowly, following the all too familiar scent of the tea. She stopped when the stench was almost more than she could bear.
Holding her hand over her nose, she opened another door. The room held many shadows, since the windows appeared to be covered with plant-like leaves. As her vision adjusted, she realized it was because the room had wall-to-wall plants—several kinds to be exact. In the center of the room sat a long table with bowls and kettles and teacups littering the length.
Katrina dared to walk closer to the plants. Something was on the tip of her memory, and she wanted to know what was bothering her so much. When she was able to clearly see what kind of plants were here, her heart sank. Castor bean and physic nut.
Both were poisonous.
She recalled what Felix had told her about these plants. The castor bean had deadly toxins, and although the physic nut had a sweet taste, if taken in large quantities, one could vomit so much it would eventually kill them.
Why would Robert have this hidden?
Blanca had brought that tea to Katrina, hoping she’d drink it. Did Robert want her dead? Suddenly pain, sharp as a knife, cut through her skull and went directly to her heart.He has been killing my father!
She dashed out of the room, flinging open the door so violently it cracked against the outer wall. She rushed down the hall, needing to get to her father’s room before he drank any more tea.
