Authors: Colleen Quinn
Tags: #Romance, #General, #Cape May (N.J.), #Historical, #Fiction
“You cad!” Katie stared at him in outrage. “You don’t care about your son—you never did! You just think to use this, to blackmail me!”
“That is such an ugly word.” John leaned against a tree, obviously not at all concerned by her accusations. “I prefer to think of it as an agreement. I agree to stay away from Sean. You can go on with your life, as the elegant Mrs. Scott. And I get rewarded for my cooperation.”
“How could I have ever thought there was good in you…?” Katie stared at him in disbelief. “My God, I must have been ten times a fool.”
“That’s enough.” John’s face reddened and he glared at her. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I’m being deprived of my son. You have so much—a little money here and there won’t kill you.”
“You are the reason my family was thrown into the street. You bled them dry, and now you think to do the same to me. It won’t work, John Sweeney. I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” John grinned, more confident now. “Tell your husband? Where is the dear boy? I’ve been watching this house for days. Bring him on out so I can meet him.”
Katie felt the walls close in. If John met with Christopher now, it would all be over. There was a limit to anyone’s patience, and John Sweeney’s presence would push her husband right over the edge. And Sean…tears filled her eyes as she thought of her son, and how hard they’d worked to see him raised right. John Sweeney would have nothing but a corrupting influence on him. At all costs, she would protect him.
“How much?” Katie whispered, pain filling her voice.
John smiled. “Just a few dollars here and there. I think a hundred is a good start.”
One hundred dollars. He might as well have said a thousand. Realizing that there was no way she could hide her financial condition, Katie opened her eyes and looked directly at him.
“I don’t have it,” she said softly. “As you know, Christopher and I aren’t…getting along right now. I can’t go to him with such a request. He would want to know the reasons, and might even want a divorce.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to get the money right off,” John Sweeney said. “But you’re a clever girl—you always have been. I’ll settle for a token now to give you time. But then I want my money.”
Katie nodded. “Wait here.” Returning to the house, she reappeared a few minutes later with a box wrapped up in her hands. “Take this.” Tears moistened her eyes as she gave him the box. “It was a gift. Christopher gave it to me.”
John Sweeney opened the wrapping and saw the music box inside. “This will do. I can hock it. But I want to see the real cash, love. Figure out a way to get it. Or else.”
Katie watched him disappear into the shrubbery. Despair filled her and she clung to the tree to keep from falling.
John Sweeney wouldn’t stop with a hundred dollars. Even if she could find the money, he’d be back again. And again.
“Dear God,” she whispered. “Haven’t I been punished enough?”
“Katie!” Moira called from the doorway. “Come inside, it’s chilly out there. And we need your help with the tables.”
Katie nodded, then returned to the house with a heavy heart. Why was it that everything went wrong at the same time? She didn’t think she could bear it, especially when she reentered the house and Sean enveloped her in a bear hug. Somehow she had to find the strength.
And an answer.
“…and it was beautiful then. The fields were green, every green the mind could conjure! From the pale sweet lime of the new leaves, to the kelly of the grasses, to the dark green black of the lakes and bogs. Ah, and the rivers are silver, glistening like veins on the sides of the mountains. And in the morning, when the mist rises, one can see the ghosts of kings and queens, long since buried beneath the sod.”
Eunice sat entranced as Paddy talked of Ireland. Katie, who had heard the tales a hundred times, felt a calm reassurance to hear them again for the hundredth and one. Moira scowled from the sofa where she stitched a new lace cloth for the table.
“Bah, you old fool! I remember it not that way. It’s an island, and the rains pour down, drowning a soul. There was nothing to eat, no theater…why, it’s a damned good thing we came here.”
“Is that right, woman?” Paddy rose from the fire and came to stand over her. “Is it contradicting me you are?”
“No, not at all.” Moira batted her eyes shamelessly, then turned to Eunice. “I just recall it differently.”
Katie laughed, looking up from the sink where she washed the plates and cups, and handed them to Sean to dry. It was just like home. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend she was little again, and the only difference would be that her father would walk through the door about now and put an end to their arguing.
It was almost as if she could forget the past, forget John Sweeney, forget the threat that hung over her head. Dear God, would it never end? Would there never be a time when she could be at peace?
And now tomorrow was the party. Katie couldn’t even picture herself, laughing and entertaining guests, all the while Christopher sought out another woman. She suppressed a smile, thinking of Gertrude and Christopher’s reaction when he met her. Somehow she would have to find a way to reach him before it was too late.
“Katie, would you get the door?” Patrick called, reluctant to leave his argument. Drying her hands on her apron, she went to the hall and opened the oak panel, her greeting dying on her lips.
“Christopher?”
“Kate.” His eyes held hers for a moment, as if wanting to say something. Instead he glanced awkwardly around her, then indicated the clothes he carried. “Haven’t the servants arrived?”
“No, not until tomorrow.” He looked so good that she wanted to cry. Could he feel the same way as she? Maybe he, too, had thought about it and wanted to call off the party…Katie wished fervently, but her hopes were dashed with his next words.
“I thought I’d stay tonight to help for the housewarming. Aunt Eunice said most of the people intend to come.” His face looked intense and he glanced at her with an odd expression. “By the way, I’ve invited someone for you to meet.”
Her heart dropped into her shoes. Katie stared at him, crushed, aware of what he meant. “That was very kind,” she replied, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice.
He nodded. “I always keep my word.”
Katie watched as he strode past the living room, where everyone talked and laughed. Her eyes followed his and she saw his aunt and the O’Connors, settled in like a real family. Then his gaze fell on Sean. Katie waited, expecting him to say something else, but he turned, hoisting his clothes over his shoulder.
“I think I’ll retire to my room. Good night, Kate.”
She watched him go, wanting to stop him, but her feet felt like lead. There was only one thing that she could say to him that might make a difference, but she didn’t think she had the nerve.
If she confessed what she felt for him, it might make him return.
Or, just as easily, could drive him away.
“Come in.” Christopher put down the book he wasn’t reading and glanced up as Katie stepped into his room. His chest felt tight when she moved closer to him and he could see the black silk hair that fell down her back and the soft blue nightgown she wore. She looked so lovely that for a moment his breath stopped and he could hear a pounding in his ears.
“Kate. What are you doing here?”
He didn’t dare hope that her presence meant what it implied. My God, did she have any idea of what she was doing to him? Was this some new kind of torture?
She smiled uneasily and stood before him like a little girl, afraid to ask for a favor. “Christopher, can we talk? I mean, really talk?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He had to look away from her, so intense were his emotions. “I’ve had a long and frustrating week. The last thing I feel like doing is engaging in some heavy conversation.”
“Christopher, don’t do this.” Her voice was a plea and she looked at him with glistening eyes. “Don’t shut me out like this.”
“Kate, what else is there to say?” He put the book aside and stood up to pace the room. It was easier than looking at her. “I can’t change the past and neither can you. You lied to me—it’s that simple. I can forgive the Fan Pemberton masquerade, because I understand that. I can’t forgive…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Kate stared at him, her chest rising and falling with suppressed emotion. “How dare you!” she whispered softly, the vehemence in her voice astounding him. Before he could react, she hit him squarely in the chest with a not particularly ladylike hand. Stunned, he grabbed for her before she could take another shot.
“Kate, have you lost your mind?”
“How dare you!” Her eyes flashed, an even deeper blue than before. He held her wrists, but she no longer struggled, instead she glared at him, all hell in her expression. “All this time I was feeling bad, thinking that I had hurt you. Now I see it’s nothing more than your damnable pride! You can’t let me close to you again—it might mean admitting that I mean something to you, and that I haven’t been punished enough! Damn you!”
“Kate, you listen—”
“No, this time you listen.” She stood still, magnificent in her outrage. “That little boy downstairs is innocent of this. He hasn’t done anything wrong, nor have I done anything that you haven’t My God, how can you be so condescending? You lied to me about your financial condition, and I don’t believe for a moment I was the only woman in your life! How can you, of all people, sit in judgment of me?”
Fury gripped him. His hands tightened on her wrists, but she continued to glare at him.
“You are all such hypocrites! Do you think I don’t know that Charles Pepper has an illegitimate child, one that he doesn’t acknowledge? The boy stays with a woman in Baltimore, who cares for him and sends him to school? Is that what I should have done?”
“Damn you, Kate! I don’t make up the rules, I just live with them!”
“And condemn me by them!” Katie wrenched herself free from his grip and stepped back, looking furious. “Well, I’m not playing by your silly rules anymore. What there is between us means something. But if you’re too stubborn to acknowledge that then there is nothing I can say or do. Be happy, Christopher. I certainly intend to.”
With a swirl of her gown she turned from him and strode from the room. Smarting, Christopher wanted to go after her, to put her in her place, but something stopped him. He couldn’t face her tonight, after everything she had said.
Especially when a small part of him feared that she was right.
“
C
ome down, Mr. Tip. Please come down.”
Christopher awoke to a plaintive cry outside his window. Struggling into his robe, he tied the belt and glanced outside.
Winter was fast approaching. There were very few leaves remaining on the huge oak tree, and those that did rattled like paper in the cold wind. It was therefore easy to see the tabby cat, perched miserably on a branch, and the blond hair of the small boy beneath.
Sliding open the window, Christopher called to the boy. “Don’t scare him. Keep talking to him while I climb down.”
The boy glanced up, tears streaking his face, and he nodded quickly as Christopher stepped through the window and onto the rooftop.
His feet were freezing, but if he remembered correctly, it was easier to climb the oak without shoes than with them. The only time he’d ever fallen when he’d done this as a boy was when he’d been dressed for a dinner party and his good shoes slipped. Tucking the robes more securely about his waist, Christopher grabbed the closest branch and eased himself down.
Somehow this had been easier when he was six. Looking at the ground, he winced, wondering at his own childhood bravery. It was at least a fifteen-foot drop, maybe more. The wind whipped through the naked branches, chilling him thoroughly, but he managed to find a secure grip and swung down to the next branch.
“Mr. Tip, you stay there. Be a good kitty,” Sean called up to the kitten, his eyes wide as Christopher struggled from one branch to the next. “Don’t fall, kitty. You’ll be fine.”
The kitten mewed loudly and pathetically while Christopher hugged the tree trunk. His foot, numb from the cold, slipped once, but he managed to grab a branch and pull himself to safety. Within a few minutes he was eye level with the cat and secure on his branch.
“Here you are.” With one free hand, he lifted the kitten, ignoring the claws that swung frantically, then tucked the cat inside his robe. The little animal mewed, frightened by the motion, but Christopher petted him reassuringly, then, inch by inch, climbed down to the ground.
“You did it!” Sean stared at him as if he were a hero. Grinning, Christopher pulled the kitten from his pocket and handed the trembling animal to the boy.
“Here. And tell him to stay out of this tree. It’s too high for these rescues.”
The boy smiled gratefully, patting the cat and pressing his small face into the animal’s fur. Christopher watched him, remembering himself at that age, when a kitten was the most important thing in the world. Turning, he started to walk back to the house, well aware of the chill temperature, when Sean’s voice stopped him.