Thunder crackles overhead. My conscience shakes me to the bone. Jahleel has ruined every peer in the original Court of Chancery that tried to deny him his rights. Those evil men wished to defraud him of the legacy owed to him by blood and by his father. Jahleel made all his enemies suffer.
What will he do to the woman who denied him his child?
Chapter 3
KATHERINE—WET ANDWILD
“You’re safe, little one.” I whisper these words to the frail kitten in my hands. The rain bears down, but I try to protect her in my scarf.
“Katherine? Katherine, where are you?”
That’s my sister, Georgina. She’s stopped hiding. The arrival of the princess and the king’s top barrister frightened her. She ran upstairs and probably hid under the bed where our dray driver for Wilcox Coal recovers. His sons are set to return from military service, and we don’t want him to be alone.
“Katherine. There you are.” She stands ten paces away under a parasol, whose poor shape barely keeps her dry. The ends of her curly, curly hair drip. The expression on her olive-brown countenance says two things:sorry, andI did something.
“Georgie, what did you do?”
“Don’t be mad, but I sent a note to Anya House,” she says. “I told them we were coming.”
I wish she’d stopped withsorry.
“Katherine? Did you hear me? You’re scaring me.” She comes closer and puts the pitiful parasol over the two of us. “You could catch cold and d—”
“Die? Like the father of my child? Jahleel Charles might already be dead. My child is heading to Anya House to see a corpse. She will hate me more.”
“The duke is not dead. Come, let’s go inside, then off to Anya House. You’ve been out here a long time. I thought you went with them, or maybe to the coal office.”
“The coal office? I just lost my daughter, and you think I went to do work?”
When Georgina shrugs, I realize that’s what they all think: that Papa’s company, Wilcox Coal, means more than anything to me. “My daughter’s gone. Lydia will hate me for keeping her away from her father.”
My sister puts an arm around me. “Let’s go inside, and we’ll take care of your new friend.”
Georgina strokes the kitten’s patchy fur, brown and orange and white. “Inside with the both of you. We’ll change and go to Anya House. We must go for Lydia and the duke.”
“Scarlett’s probably there. And my daughter has a new grandmother. They don’t need us. And they will throw me out if Jahleel …”
My sister begins to tear up. “The duke is well. He has to be. He’s too young to die.”
That’s the unfairness of sickness: it afflicts everyone—children, adults, even newborns. “I’m terrible and terrified. How will I live with the pain I’ve caused them?”
“Stop it, Katherine.” Georgina, who has the voice of an angel, sounds like a barking dog. “Just stop.”
Both the kitten and I rear our heads up.
“The duke is strong. You know the Duke of Torrance is a fighter. We have lived in fear of some scandal since you returned from St. Petersburg. It all must stop now.”
She doesn’t know. “Georgie, the duke is fighting the sickness that tormented and killed our mother. There’s no cure.”
Tears flood her face. “No. Not true.” She shakes her head like I’ve lied.
This time, I wish I had. “Georgie, you remember what it did to Mama? She struggled, bled so many veins. Remember how weak she was before …”
My sister wraps me and the kitten in her arms and holds me until we both stop crying.
Hiding under the parasol, I feel Georgina’s understanding. I confess, “The man I thought I’d divorced after our whirlwind courtship has the blood sickness. My haste in believing him to be horrid—a man with many mistresses, a man that lies to seduce women—has robbed him of years of knowing Lydia as his daughter. He may never hear Lydia call him Papa. He won’t see me telling them both how sorry I am. I am sorry, Georgie. I am.”
As I blubber and blather on about how I’ve been a coward and a fool, Georgina spins me around and tows me forward. “Inside with you, Katherine.” Her voice sounds low and forceful like she’s imitating our father. Cesar Wilcox was a formidable man. Always wise, unlike me.
