The Raven's Revenge (18 page)

A shudder ran through Katherine. “I cannot bear this,” she whispered.

Finch’s heels clicked a slow march as he walked through the room. “The woman is small,” he continued, “and dresses plainly. She is about twenty years of age. The other two men are servants, a stable boy, and an older man.” His footsteps stopped uncomfortably close. The hairs on the nape of Katherine’s neck stood up.

A cramp in her hand told her she had tightened her grip on Jeremy’s shoulders. His hair brushed against her nose in a tickle.

“I offer a reward,” Finch went on. He sounded to be standing behind her now. She could almost feel his eyes boring into her back. Her skin crawled. She had never been good at hiding games. Edward had always caught her because she couldn’t stay still or quiet, knowing he would shout
aha
at any moment.

A titter threatened to escape her taut lips. Katherine bit hard on the inside of a cheek and closed her eyes, but the room and Finch’s voice came up to surround her, choking her until she could not breathe. She took in a ragged gasp of air. Her heart pounded. Jeremy gave her a little shake causing her eyes to fly open.

She gasped.

Standing right behind Jeremy stood Jakes, staring straight at her. “It’s them!” he cried.

Katherine and Jeremy jumped up. The bench fell over with a crash. Hands clawed at her, and she pulled away.
 

Reaching for something—anything, she grabbed a wooden trencher from the table. Swinging it in a wide arc, it connected with someone in a bone-jarring thump. She heard a loud groan and hoped it wasn’t Jeremy. Faces blurred as she whirled around.

“Get her!” It was Finch.

Hands grabbed her cloak from behind, yanking her back. The garment came off with a painful rip.

Just a few feet from her, Jeremy fought Jakes. A sob rose in Katherine’s throat. What chance did her friend have against such a brute? His nose bloodied, face red with exertion, Jeremy’s fists pounded the man who paid him no more mind than if he were a small dog yapping at his feet.

Finch struck Jeremy an effortless punch to the stomach. Her friend reeled back. Heaving and sputtering, he stumbled over a bench and crashed into a table. Katherine moved fast. In two steps, she stood behind Jakes. With a swift movement, the trencher connected with his head in a loud thwack.
 

But the brute did not waver.

Katherine sensed more than saw the crowd around her, crushing and holding her in. Loud voices rooted her and Jeremy on. Then her braid was yanked from behind and she was pulled back. Jakes punched Jeremy under the chin. The boy’s head flew back and hit the floor with a loud crack. He lay still.

“Jeremy!” she cried, trying to move forward. Her assailant held her fast. Her scalp throbbed, and her eyes filled with tears from the pain. Her arm was seized from behind, then twisted. She could not move. An agonized cry escaped her lips.

“He cannot help you now.” Finch’s voice was quiet and deadly in her ear.

All of Katherine’s temerity vanished. Her spirit crumpled like an old garment pulled from the line.

Jakes rubbed a fleshy hand across his forehead and spat. The sputum hit Jeremy on the face, but he did not stir.

“Where are the others?” Finch twisted her arm.

Her stomach clenched. “Others?”

He twisted harder.

Katherine’s body strained backward. She bit her cheek hard to keep from crying out.

“Do not ever think me a fool,” he intoned, applying more pressure. “I want the other two men.”

A cry rose in her chest. Katherine capitulated before he wrenched her shoulder from her body. “I do not know. We parted company,” she gasped. The pressure eased, but Finch did not let go. In front of her, Jakes kicked Jeremy hard in the ribs.
 

The boy made no sound.

The onlookers grumbled.

“Please…” Katherine entreated. “Do not hurt him more.”

Finch attempted to steer her away, but the throng held them in. She was dimly aware of the disapproving scowls and protests directed at Finch and Jakes. Yet no one came to her aid.

“Enough,” called Finch to his henchman. He tossed a handful of coins to the room. The mob fell into a wild melee as bits of silver and copper fell to the floor. Jeremy’s wounded and broken body was lost to her view in the mad rush.

“Help him,” Katherine called out. But no one paid her any mind. Instead, they scrambled after the money. “Please…” her voice broke off as Finch jerked her outside.

Stumbling through the cold drizzle, her senses withered. Jakes opened the door of the waiting coach and Finch shoved her in. She missed the step, and landed on her hands and knees on the vehicle’s floor.

Climbing onto the seat, Katherine shrank back in the furthest corner and rubbed her bruised knees while the men talked outside. A shudder ran through her.

Did Jeremy lay dying? She brought her hands to her face. Her friendship had come at too high a price. If not for her, he would still be at Ashfield safe and secure, tending to the horses. Again and again he had offered to return her to her home, yet she had refused.

Why hadn’t she let things be? After these days and nights of freedom and adventure, she would still marry Richard Finch. And he would make her suffer for her disobedience.

The coach listed violently as Finch climbed in and sat opposite her. Katherine blinked back her tears. She must stay calm. Firm. Defiant.

His cold eyes glinted at her from under his curled white periwig. The sweet cloying scent from his perfumed gloves pervaded the close confines of the vehicle.

Katherine’s stomach turned. She shivered. Without Nicholas’s cloak, her satin dress provided scant protection against the night’s chill and Finch’s probing eyes. She raised her hands protectively above her décolleté bodice.

“You hide from me what you show to others?” His voice was harsh.

Katherine shook her head.

The coach jerked into motion. Her hands flew to the seat and she braced herself with her feet so she did not fall forward onto Finch. As the coach settled into a rhythmic sway, she returned her hands to shield her bosom.

Still, he leered at her. “Who would have thought you could look so enchanting? ’Tis plain you are not so plain after all.” He made a bitter chuckle and removed his gloves, placing them neatly beside him.

Katherine thrust herself back into the leather seat. “Are we to Ashfield?” she asked, pleased at the steadiness of her voice, yet wishing it sounded stronger, more confident.

He did not answer. Instead, he leaned forward and grabbed her wrist, forcing her hand from its protective position. She pulled but he did not let go. Instead, his grasp tightened. The smile that hovered at the corner of his mouth disappeared, and his lips pursed together. He squinted, as he once again looked her up and down.

“You prefer a stable-boy to me?”

“I prefer to place my affections where I wish and not where I am told.”

“Did you share your favors with him alone, or did you share yourself with the others?”

“My favors?” It took Katherine a moment to understand his meaning. Then she registered such fury she could not answer. She jerked back her wrist, but he did not let go.

“Answer me,” he commanded. Even in darkness, the contempt in his eyes cut into her.

“I did not share ‘my favors’ with anyone!”

He moved next to her with sudden swiftness and placed his hand on her bodice. Katherine flinched beneath his touch. Something inside her snapped.

“No!” she cried and slapped his face with her free hand.

The sharp sound echoed in the small enclosure. Finch held a hand to his cheek. His eyes registered surprise no greater than her own.

Then he slapped her back.
 

Hard.

Tears stung her eyes as he captured her free hand and forced her hands behind her back. Katherine squirmed and shoved at him with her knees, but he twisted her wrists. She writhed. His eyes glinted as he increased the pressure, and she knew if she did not stop struggling, he would twist until her bones popped, so she went still.
 

His arms around her, he forced her into a position that thrust her breasts forward, into his chest. She could feel his breath, hot on her neck.

Katherine whimpered.

Finch’s face hovered just inches from hers. “Why?”

Helpless, she swallowed sobs of frustration as he gripped both her hands in one of his. Her heart pounded so hard it seemed it would burst from her chest. She tried to still her trembling. “I don’t understand.”

He ran his finger over her lower lip. “Why the stable boy and not me?”

What a terrible misjudgment she had made, thinking she could hide by hugging Jeremy. She had not considered what Richard Finch would make of their embrace.

“Did you let him touch you here?” He pulled away from her slightly, and reached into her bodice. Nails scratched delicate skin as his hand moved down to cup her breast.

Katherine’s stomach roiled. Bile rose in her throat. “No!”

“You lie.” He yanked his hand from her bodice and slapped her face again.

Her head flew back against the seat. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Shaking her head, her face hot and smarting from the blow, she knew it mattered not what she said, he would hurt her anyway. He needed to. It was a bully’s way to assuage his anger.

“Did you spread your legs for him?” He moved over her again, forcing her into an awkward angle, holding her immobile with his weight.

Katherine went cold at the realization that he did not just mean to hurt and scare her.
 

He meant to rape her.
 

To take from her that which she had been afraid to give Nicholas.
 

For a moment, she feared she might faint. Struggling to keep her wits, she shook her head and fought Finch with new urgency. With a vicious rip, he tore her satin neckline.

Her heart hammered crazily. She could scarcely breathe. Panic overwhelmed her. She must get out of the coach. Even if she hurt herself or died in the trying. She could not allow him to do this thing to her.

“Do you carry his brat?” he sneered, prodding her stomach with a long finger.

Katherine reacted like a wild thing. She bucked, and jerked, and her knee came up hard between his legs. He groaned and released her wrists. Pushing him away, she pitched herself headlong toward the door, but he grabbed her braid and pulled her back. She smothered a scream. The pain only added to her sense of urgency. She kicked at him savagely while reaching for the door latch.

Then, suddenly, the coach lurched to a halt. They tumbled together onto the floor, Katherine sprawled on top.

“Stand and deliver!”

Nicholas!

Over the pounding of her heart and the heaviness of her breathing, she recognized his voice with a rush of pure joy. She scrambled onto one of the padded seats, but so did Finch. He grabbed her and put his hand over her mouth.

“Do not say a word,” he ordered.

She tried to bite his fingers, but he held her tight. Pushing her into the seat back, he levered his knee against her belly, then pounded on the wall of the coach with his free hand. “Drive on!” he yelled to Jakes.

Katherine pushed at him as the door flew open. Finch turned as a long arm reached inside and pointed the muzzle of a gun at his chest.

“Out,” Nicholas commanded.

“I will not,” Finch asserted. He knocked on the wall of the coach again. “Drive on!” he ordered once more. But the coach did not move.

“Your driver is incapacitated. I can tell you with great assurance that you will not be going anywhere anytime soon.” Nicholas made a grim chuckle.

Katherine wriggled with renewed energy and managed to twist her mouth away from Finch’s grasp. “Nicholas!” she cried.

The coach lurched as a black hooded figure appeared in the doorway, gun still pointed at Finch’s heart. An elegant forefinger cocked the trigger. The chilling sound filled the small space.

“Let go of her,” Nicholas ordered.

Finch released her wrists and raised himself off her. Katherine scrambled to Nicholas. The gun did not waver as he helped her up and swung her to the ground.

Katherine shivered. Raindrops fell onto her face and the exposed skin of her breast. She raised a limp hand to hold the pieces of her torn bodice together. A weakness ran through her; her hands shook. She drew a deep steadying breath of the chill air.

The coach had stopped at the bottom of a rise. Henry stood to the side of the vehicle, his blunderbuss aimed at Jakes.

Finch emerged from the coach with obvious reluctance. His wig askew, it lent a comical note to his usually fastidious appearance.

A hysterical giggle rose from Katherine’s belly, and she covered her mouth with a shaking hand to prevent its escape. Big raindrops now splashed her face, as if to wash away her giddiness.

Nicholas removed his cowl. “We’ve a score to settle.”

Finch looked from Katherine to Nicholas and back to Katherine again. “It’s not just the boy, is it?” he said to her, sourly. “You are a highwayman’s slut as well.” He turned to Nicholas. “Who are you really,
Nicholas Raven
?”

“Someone who wishes you ill.”

Nicholas handed Katherine the pistol. She took it with her free hand, wrist sagging under the weight of the heavy weapon. Raising it unsteadily, she pointed it at Finch.

“Do you know how to use it?” queried Nicholas.

She turned to him and shook her head.

He pushed the barrel back toward Finch. “Then be sure you are pointing it at him at all times, and never at me. Put your finger here,” he repositioned the gun in her hand, “but do not pull back unless you mean to shoot, and if you do, intend to kill.”

Finch blanched as the pistol wavered unsteadily in his direction. “I have no wish to fight,” he said, and folded his arms across his chest.

“Then you will take a severe pounding,” Nicholas replied. “It matters naught to me whether you defend yourself.”

“The girl and I are to be wed. It is agreed. She can be nothing to you,” Finch asserted.

Nicholas turned to Katherine, his face registering mock surprise. “Do you wish to wed this man?”