Mr. Brown conducted Katrina to a small closed carriage and gave the coachman orders to drive on immediately. He seemed tense as he sat across from her, tapping his fingers constantly on his thigh, sending frequent glances her way but not actually speaking. That suited Katrina perfectly since she was in no mood to make banal conversation and made do with staring blankly out of the window.
It was only when the carriage turned in the opposite direction to the one she expected that she found her voice.
“The coachman is going the wrong way. This is not the road to Westminster.”
“I expect he knows a shorter route.”
“But, this road heads to the east. You must make him turn round.”
She looked at Mr. Brown and quailed when she saw a manic look in his eyes. He scooted across to her seat and took her wrist in such a firm grasp that it made her eyes water.
“You can forget about your aristocratic admirer, Katrina. He was merely toying with your affections. I am the man for you.”
“You’re hurting me!”
He loosened his hold but didn’t release her wrist. “Your father should not have permitted you to come to London. I warned him how it would be. I told him repeatedly.”
“I don’t think my father’s decisions are any business of yours,” Katrina replied, fighting the panic that welled up in her as she realised this excursion was not being undertaken at her father’s behest. So, it begged the question, what did Brown want of her and why had he gone to the trouble to get her alone? “I would thank you to release my wrist,” she said haughtily. “And if you don’t have this carriage turn around I shall order the coachman to do so myself.”
“The coachman has been well paid and has his orders. He will not listen to you.”
“We’ll soon see about that.”
Katrina tried to let the window down but Brown pulled her by the shoulder, forcing her back against the squabs.
“Let go of me!”
Katrina rubbed the wrist that Brown had released but ignored the pain where his fingers had dug into her shoulder, now truly afraid. She considered jumping from the moving carriage and glanced at the door with that thought in mind.
“I would advise against it,” Brown said with a nervous-sounding laugh. “We are moving too fast and you would probably break your neck in the fall.”
She tossed her head, determined not to show her fear. “That would be preferable to being forced to go somewhere against my will.”
“My goodness, such spirit.” Brown touched her face with the tips of his gloved hand. “No amount of formal schooling will ever suppress such passion. That,” he added, sending Katrina a satisfied smile that curdled her insides, “is a compliment.”
“Save your compliments. They do not interest me.” Katrina forced herself to ask a question she already knew the answer to. “My father didn’t send for me, did he? You deceived me.”
“Your father is too lenient with you. It’s past time we were married so I can take proper care of you.”
“What!”
“It’s your wedding day, my dear.” Brown seemed deadly serious and quietly determined. “The very least you could do is smile.”
Katrina shook her head. Why were men so determined to marry her against her will? First Lord Avon, now Mr. Brown. “I am not going to marry you. Not today.” Not ever.
“Well, if you would prefer not to it would break my heart but of course I shall understand. But still, it’s only fair to warn you that if you decide against me I shall have to release the document that will see your father hang.”
Katrina laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I am well aware I’m not your social equal. That being the case, why do you suppose your father intends me as your husband?”
A very good question. “You are his protégé and he trusts you.” But Katrina had always thought there was more to it than that. It was simply a subject upon which she preferred not to dwell and so she never had.
Brown gave a dismissive wave. “That’s hardly sufficient reason.”
“Then what is?” Katrina asked, almost against her will. She had a premonition that she would not like whatever Brown told her.
“Your father, my dear, used to be a very passionate man and killed his rival in a dispute over his lady love’s affections.”
Katrina clapped a hand over her gaping mouth. “No! I don’t believe a word of it. Papa does not approve of passion.”
Brown shrugged. “Perhaps now you understand why.”
Katrina studied Brown, thinking he looked nervous, edgy, but equally sure he spoke the truth. No one could lie quite so convincingly. Besides, he must know she would ask him for proof of his outrageous claim. Outrageous but most likely true. It explained a great deal and caused resentment to burn through Katrina like corrosive acid.
“If what you say is true, and I don’t for a moment believe that it is, then of course I will marry you to protect Papa. But why…well, why the necessity for this…today?”
“You are getting too close to Sheridan. You’ll reach your majority in a few weeks and can decide your own future. I can’t take the risk of your deciding against me.”
“How could I if you have the ability to destroy Papa’s reputation and threaten his freedom?”
“Perhaps knowing your father’s past mistakes are the reason for your somewhat austere upbringing will make you resentful. And being related by marriage to a duke would be your revenge.”
“But if what you say about Papa is true then I would be tainted by association and would visit that disgrace upon Lord Nate and his family.” She sent him a withering glare. “Unlike you, I could not indulge in such disgusting tactics merely to achieve my heart’s desire.”
“Ah, so you do desire him. I knew it!”
“That is not what I said. You appear intent upon twisting my words to justify your own outlandish behaviour.”
When Brown said nothing more but looked smugly pleased with himself, Katrina looked away from him, pondering her predicament. She watched the scenery through the carriage window, wondering where they were. She did not know London well and didn’t know this area at all. The houses had rapidly decreased in size, becoming close-packed and squalid. Urchins ran everywhere in the muddy roads, merchants hawked their wares and men of dubious character sent sullen, resentful glances in the direction of their carriage. This was not a part of town that Katrina would feel comfortable coming to unescorted. Perhaps that was why Brown had brought her to it.
“You think I am so undutiful that I would put my own interests ahead of my father’s? Really, Mr. Brown, you don’t know me at all.”
“I am not prepared to take that chance. Your father killed for his passion. Passion runs in your family, even if you are only just discovering the fact for yourself. There’s no saying what you might do to gratify your desires.”
“Thank you for that charming assessment of my character,” she replied, putting up her chin. “Now I know precisely what you think of me.”
“Oh, I do not in the least disapprove of passion itself. In fact, I look forward to agitating yours.”
He sent her what was probably supposed to be a charming smile. Katrina found it repugnant and barely suppressed a shudder. She didn’t in the least mind his knowing she found him repulsive but didn’t want him to mistake her reaction as fear, even if she was terrified. Terrified to be with a man whom she had known for years but clearly didn’t know at all. She was seeing aspects of his true character now and did not like what she saw. But if she did not commit herself to him for the rest of her life then he would destroy Papa.
“You seriously expect me to go through with this travesty of a marriage and make myself agreeable to you?” Katrina shook her head. “You’re deluded.”
“You will go through with it or I will crucify your father,” he said in a mordant tone that made Katrina believe every word. The man was as ruthless as he was ambitious and no longer appeared to care if she knew it. “The choice really is as simple as that.”
“What I don’t understand is why you would want an unwilling wife.” Katrina shook her head as she repeated what she had said to Lord Avon a few days previously. “What pleasure would there be in that situation for either of us?”
“Oh, you will be willing and do everything I ask of you.” He grasped her chin in a tight hold and she thought, just for a moment, that he might kiss her. If he did she would bite him! He must have detected something of her determination from her expression because he wisely decided against doing so. “Absolutely everything. Don’t forget, I still hold in my hands the power to destroy your father. Our marriage won’t alter that situation.”
“You’re evil!”
“You mistake the matter, my dear. I’m simply a man who knows what he wants and provided I get it, you have nothing to fear from me.” The carriage rattled to a halt. “Right, here we are.”
He opened the door and held out a hand to her. Katrina hesitated, trying to think of ways to escape. There were none. The coachman was obviously in Brown’s pay and was taking no notice of her. If she appealed to passers-by she might well finish up in an even worse situation. She could sense their resentment in the hostile glances they sent her way. There was nothing else for it, she would just have to leave the carriage and wait for a suitable opportunity to present itself.
Ignoring Brown’s hand, she alighted without his help and found herself in front of a small, shabby-looking chapel.
“Shall we?” Brown proffered his arm.
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I don’t believe there is anything wrong with your hearing.” Katrina stood her ground and glowered at the hateful man. “I will enter this charming establishment and agree to become your wife but only after you have given me the document you say you possess and which you have been using to blackmail my father.”
“Blackmail is such an ugly word,” Brown said, shaking his head. “Anyway, how do I know you will go through with the wedding once you have that document?”
“Because, unlike you,” she replied disdainfully, “when I give my word, I keep it.”
“Very well, but the document is in my rooms. We will go there immediately after the service and I will give it to you as a wedding present.”
“Not good enough.”
Brown raised a questioning brow. “You doubt my word?”
Their gazes locked. “You have not given me any reason to suppose you will keep it.”
“Come. We don’t have time for this discussion now.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her into the chapel. She fought against him but he was too strong for her and she had no choice but to follow him. “The parson is waiting.”
***
“Lady St. John.” Heston stood. “What is this? I thought Katrina was with you.”
“Mr. Brown came to collect her. He said you had sent him.”
“Oh, dear God!” Heston paled. “No, I did not.”
“I thought that might be the case. Something about it didn’t seem quite right. Brown was on edge. He rushed her into a carriage and it moved off immediately. I asked my man if he heard where it was bound for and he thought he overheard Brown say something about Whitechapel. I came here at once to see if Lord Nate or His Grace knew where he might have gone.”
“Whitechapel?” Heston shook his head, clearly too dazed, too afraid, to think coherently. Nate knew because he was similarly afflicted. “I don’t understand.”
“Perdition!” Nate said, burying his face in his hands. “This is all my fault. He must have discovered the documents were missing and it’s made him desperate.” He explained how Brown had arrived back at his rooms just as Nate quit them. “We have to find her. Where would he have taken her, Heston? Not to his rooms, I’m sure. So what’s in Whitechapel?”
“If he knows he has no hold over you anymore, Heston, he will probably try and force her into matrimony right this moment. He isn’t the type to give up on his ambitions,” Zach said.
“He can’t just walk up to a clergyman and demand that he marries them,” Lady St. John pointed out, causing Nate’s anxiety to fractionally recede. “Besides, Katrina is under age. She would need Lord Heston’s permission.”
“He could do worse though,” Nate said, clenching his jaw. He didn’t feel the need to expand upon that remark. Everyone in the room would be painfully aware of his meaning.
“Does he have any other family or close friends in London?” Romsey asked. “Think, Heston. Think!”
Heston paced the room, rubbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking anxious and unwell. “Damn it, yes he does!” he exclaimed, not deeming it necessary to beg Lady St. John’s pardon for his language. “Now I know why Whitechapel sounded so familiar. He has a cousin whom he helped out of some difficulties a few years ago.” He shared a horrified glance between them. “He’s a vicar in an East End church.”
“Do you know where?” Nate demanded, grabbing Heston’s arm. “The name of the church. The location.”
“Holy Trinity in Whitechapel,” Heston replied after a short pause. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it. He wrote a letter to that address while we were in Brussels quite recently.”
“He was making his plans even then, damn him!” Nate thundered.
“Faraday!” Zach yelled.
Faraday materialised through the open door. “Your Grace?”
“Have my horse and Lord Nate’s saddled immediately. And one for Garner,” he added, referring to the burliest footman in Zach’s employ.
“I’m coming too,” Heston insisted.
“No,” Zach replied. “Stay here. We will be quicker without you.” He slapped the older man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll get to her.” Zach’s dogs got up, ready to follow him, but Zach stayed them with a signal. “Take Lady St. John and Heston into the drawing room, Romsey. The duchess will be home shortly and will want to know what’s going on. Tell her whatever you think best.”
Lady St. John placed a hand on Phantom’s head and smiled. “Just go!” she said. “We will be waiting anxiously for your return.”
The brothers set off as fast as they dared, Garner riding along with them. Nate cursed the vehicles blocking the streets and yelled at people to make way if they dared to dawdle in their path. It seemed to take forever to get to their destination, with every possible delay slowing them. Nate was ready to burst with impatience by the time they left the city walls behind them and finally reached the environs of Whitechapel.
“Damn it, the whole of London has conspired to slow us down!” Nate fumed.
“Calm down, little brother.”
“Ha, easy for you to say.”
“You will be no help to Katrina if you work yourself up into a state. And bear in mind, even if she does agree to marry the cove, you can easily have it annulled once we prove Lord Heston didn’t give his consent.”
“Yes, that’s true enough, but what might he do to her in the mean time?”
“There won’t be enough time for that.”
“There damned well will be if these streets don’t clear,” Nate replied, glaring at a man with a handcart full of vegetables trundling down the middle of the road in front of them.
“Brown has a good half-hour’s start on us. He could already have forced Katrina into marriage and taken her God alone knows where by now. He’s nothing if not organised and if he has a clergyman for a relation, one who’s indebted to him, well…”
“We will rescue her, Nate. Just keep that thought in the forefront of your mind and stop torturing yourself with speculation.”
“Perhaps Brown is wilier than we’re giving him credit for,” Nate said, ignoring Zach’s advice and continuing to speculate. “He might well have ordered the coachman to Whitechapel, aware that Lady St. John’s man was listening and that that information would be passed to his mistress. Heston, when applied to, would remember Brown’s clergyman, sending us on a wild goose chase.”
“Rubbish! He’s not that bright.”
Nate sincerely hoped Zach was right about that. He impatiently tapped his fingers on the pommel of his saddle while Zach asked directions to the establishment they sought. He tossed a coin to the lad who gave those directions and they turned right at the next junction.
“Over there,” Zach said, pointing to a rundown chapel with a carriage pulled up beside it.
Nate leapt from his horse, threw its reins to the first urchin to approach and ran up to the closed doors of the chapel.
***
“I can’t marry you without first hearing that the lady is willing.”
Katrina could have kissed the young, nervous parson standing in front of her. “I am not willing,” she supplied helpfully.
“Yes, she is. You have the licence,” Brown replied. “Do it now, Mason, or it will be the worse for you.”
“Is he blackmailing you as well?” Katrina asked. “How very disagreeable of him. It’s obviously something he makes a habit of doing to get what he wants. Do you imagine I would be here were it otherwise?”
“I don’t know.” The parson’s gaze drifted from Katrina, to the licence in his hand and then settled upon Brown’s determined countenance. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he said, “but this looks to be in order. However, you have to agree to take him as your husband. If you don’t do that then I cannot in all conscience pronounce you man and wife.”
“It’s a little late to develop a conscience, Mason,” Brown drawled.
“Go back to your rooms,” Katrina said dismissively, barely glancing at Brown. “You know what I need. Bring it back to me and I will marry you. There, I have given my word in front of a man of God. That ought to be enough, even for you.”
“And I give you my word, in front of that same man of God, that I will give you the document the moment we return to my rooms.”
“Ah, but you see my difficulty is that I don’t trust you to keep your word.”
“This is getting us nowhere!” Brown reached into his coat pocket and produced a dagger, making sure Katrina got a good view of the short, glinting blade which she had no doubt was very sharp indeed.
“You can’t bring weapons in here!” the parson cried. “It’s sacrilege.”
“I can do what I damn well please.” He caught Katrina around the waist and allowed the tip of the dagger to pierce through her clothing. “Now, my dear, what’s it to be?”
“Are you going to kill me here in a church?” Katrina asked, astonished when her voice sounded so scornful and there was no evidence of the fear she felt reflected in her tone.
Brown had a manic look in his eyes and she was perfectly sure that he would kill her if she refused to marry him. Death seemed a more palatable alternative to submitting to his vile demands. How could she have seriously considered marrying such a man voluntarily, just because her father said he would make a satisfactory husband for her? Of course, she knew now that Papa had insisted upon the match in order to protect himself. She bitterly resented being used in such a fashion and was compelled to look upon her father, whom she had always respected and admired, in a very different light.
“I have waited for you all these years,” Brown said, sucking in a shuddering breath. “I wanted us to be married the moment you turned sixteen but your father wouldn’t hear of it. Every year I pressed him but every year he came up with a valid reason to delay. I didn’t know the old man could be quite so adamant, not when he knew I could destroy his precious name and reputation at a stroke. But when it comes to you, my dear, he could not be coerced into doing as he was told.”
Well, that was something in his favour, Katrina thought.
“Now, I am all out of patience. You will stand before Mason here and repeat your vows. If you do not, then I will kill you. Never doubt it.”
Katrina glanced at the granite set to his features and knew he meant it.
“Then do so,” she said defiantly, ignoring her shaking knees, trying not to think that she would never see Nate again. Would never be able to tell him just how comprehensively she adored him. How much she would love to be standing beside him in front of a parson…
“Of course, I can’t leave any witnesses to report the crime,” Brown added, nodding significantly towards the trembling parson, who appeared to be too terrified to utter a single coherent sentence.
“I really don’t see why I am so important to your plans,” Katrina said.
“I have worshipped you for years.” He touched her face and Katrina resisted the impulse to flinch. “You are everything that is good and pure and kind. There’s something about you that compels me and I cannot bear the thought of you giving yourself to another man. It can only ever be me! I have waited too long to be cheated out of you now and there’s an end to the matter. I could of course simply have taken you back to my rooms and consummated the arrangement without making it legal but I would not treat you with such disrespect.”
Katrina almost choked at his hypocrisy. Was she really supposed to think that the manner in which he had brought her here was respectful? But still, she made up her mind at that moment. She would go through with the ceremony to ensure the parson wasn’t hurt and then find a way, somehow, to get away from Brown before…well, before he insisted upon consummating the marriage. And, even if the worst did happen, he couldn’t guard her the entire time. She would escape just as soon as she got a chance and she and Papa would somehow find a way to recover whatever it was that Brown held against him.
“Since you ask so persuasively,” she said with a haughty toss of her head. “Let’s get it over with.”
“You heard the lady,” Brown said, sending the parson a brittle smile of triumph but not releasing the pressure of the dagger against Katrina’s side as he led her towards the altar. “Shall we get started?”
Mason opened his bible and nervously cleared his throat. Perspiration dotted his brow, even though the chapel was freezing cold inside. Katrina emptied her mind of everything except her determination to get the better of Brown, wishing her father had told her about his manipulation of him as soon as she had been old enough to understand. She was the one who was being sacrificed to the man’s possessive lust. Surely she had a right to know why. Besides, between them they might have been able to think of a way to get the better of the odious man who appeared determined to become her husband, even though he must know that she despised him with every fibre of her being.
Katrina barely heard a word the trembling parson stumbled over, until he came to the part where she was required to take Brown as her lawful wedded husband. A deafening silence fell over the chapel as they awaited her response. She cleared her throat and tried, really tried, to say the words, thinking what would happen to her and the innocent parson if she did not.
But she couldn’t, simply couldn’t do it. Something inside her rebelled. All those years of doing as she was told by Madame, even when her orders made no sense; the injustice she felt at having done everything to please Papa when all Papa had been doing was using her to cover up his indiscretions; these iniquities finally took their toll and she simply refused to be intimidated by Brown’s ambition. It was high time to think about what she wanted for herself.
“I can’t do this!”
She took Brown by surprise by snatching herself out of his grasp. He roared with anger and the dagger slid into her skin. She gasped but barely felt the pain as she lifted her skirts and ran pell-mell down the aisle, towards the heavy doors and freedom. Brown caught her before she could turn the handle and shook her by the shoulders, looking angrier than she had ever seen him. She knew then that she should have stuck to her original plan and exercised patience. Now that she had scorned him, had actually run from him, he would show her no mercy.
Her situation was completely hopeless.
***
Nate turned the handle to the chapel doors but something prevented it from opening.
“It’s locked,” he said, sending Zach a helpless look.
“No, it’s moving. Someone must have hold of the other side. Try again.”
Nate did so, putting his shoulder to the door and all his weight into pushing it open. It grated against worn flagstones and then flew free. There was a loud thump and some colourful language as someone fell to the floor. It was Brown but Nate barely spared him a glance. Instead he looked down at Katrina, also on the floor, blood streaming from a wound on her side.
“Katrina, are you all right?”
Nate knelt beside her, relieved that she appeared to be alive and conscious, albeit disorientated. “Nate.” She blinked up at him, as though she couldn’t quite believe he was there. “Is that you? Am I dreaming?”
“Yes, I’m here, my love. Let me help you.”
“Careful, he has a knife!”
She had noticed Brown clamber to his feet. He was now regarding Nate with hatred in his eyes. Zach and Garner both went to disarm him but Nate held up a hand to prevent them.
“Take care of Lady Katrina, Zach. He’s mine.”
Nate turned to face the man who had almost cost the life of the lady he loved and felt as though he could easily emulate Heston’s actions of several decades earlier and help him on his way to meet his maker. Only Nate’s actions would have been no accident. The similarity between the two sets of circumstances didn’t escape him. He and Brown were about to fight over the love of a worthy woman. That Brown could deliberately injure that woman showed him for the deranged, determined individual that he was and Nate would have satisfaction or sacrifice his life in protection of Katrina.
“Let’s see how handy you are with a dagger when facing a man,” Nate said, his voice dripping lethal venom. “Don’t be afraid. Unlike you, I am unarmed, which makes it an even contest.”
“You have no business here,” Brown replied. “This is a matter between the lady and myself.”
“The lady doesn’t look as though she wants to co-operate.”
“She doesn’t,” the parson said, finding his voice.
“And yet you would have married them against her will?” Nate flexed a brow, his gaze not once leaving Brown whom, he suspected, was waiting for the right moment to attack. “Come along then, Brown, let’s settle this matter once and for all.”
Nate was aware of the parson bending over Katrina at Zach’s instruction, tearing off strips of his vestments so Zach could tie them around Katrina’s middle. She was still conscious, indicating that the wound was not as deep as the amount of blood implied. Even so, Brown would pay dearly for harming her. Nate had never known such an all-encompassing rage that manifested itself as an icy cool determination.
“Not quite so self-assured now, I see,” Nate drawled when Brown continued to stare at him, breathing heavily, his eyes imbued with a murderous intent he seemed reluctant to act upon. “We don’t have all day. Either hand over the dagger and give yourself up or do what you really want to do and attack me.” Nate paused, deliberately taunting him. “If you dare.”
Nate could sense Brown calculating his chances and sensibly coming to the conclusion that they were slim to non-existent. He could not possibly attack someone of Nate’s standing and hope to get away with it, and they both knew it.
“He was forcing her into this by holding something over her father,” the parson said from his crouched position beside Katrina.
“Ah, but he doesn’t have it anymore. That’s what tipped his hand,” Nate replied, still holding the man in a death glare.
“What?” Katrina asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” Nate replied. “Suffice it to say that your father is safe from this manipulative cove. The game’s up, Brown. Do you really want to make matters worse for yourself?”
After a prolonged pause, Brown shook his head and handed the dagger to Nate, handle first. Nate passed it to Zach, then took considerable satisfaction in placing his clenched fist squarely in the middle of Brown’s face, recalling doing something similar to Avon a few days previously in protection of Katrina. It was starting to become a habit. Startled, Brown cried out as he tumbled to the floor. The sound of cracking bone and Brown’s scream gave Nate considerable satisfaction.
The man had fallen on his wrist and snapped it.