Angel in Black (50 page)

“I must say, this is the most exciting entrance we have ever had at one of my costume galas, and to come as the famous Angel in Black — enchanting. If the criminal herself is as shapely as you, my dear, I can understand why she is spoken of with admiration.” His laughter echoed in the now silent room, everyone waiting for the lady to speak.

“You are too kind, Your Majesty.” Katrina smiled warmly. “But you are indeed speaking to the criminal herself. I am the Angel in Black.”

A murmur spread across the room and the King stepped back in an instinctive move. Catherine stepped forward, frenzied. “You bitch, what are you doing?”

“I have just played the winning hand and you have lost.”

“Lost,” screamed Catherine. “It is you who have lost, you fool. You are a wanted woman — you will most assuredly hang.”

“But you will not have Blake,” Katrina reminded her, calmly, matter-of-factly.

Catherine sneered, “But neither will you.”

Katrina shook her head and whispered huskily, “Blake will always be mine — in life and in death.”

“No,” Catherine shrieked and lunged at Katrina, her claw-like hands ready to scratch Katrina’s face.

Quick to react, the Angel grabbed Catherine by the wrists and easily forced her to her knees. “I would just as soon hang for murder as for thievery. Do not tempt me!”

When Katrina let go of Catherine, the woman sank to the floor, uncontrolled sobbing overtaking her spent anger. Katrina stepped past her to the King, who stood transfixed.

“I am surrendering to my King and freely confess my crimes.”

Katrina pulled her sword, causing gasps of fear from the court as guards stepped forward, their own weapons drawn in defense. Moving carefully, Katrina laid the blade at her King’s feet, followed by her two pistols.

Two guards flanked her and grabbed her arms. Blake reacted and rushed to her aid, a guttural growl telling of his wrath and fear shown clearly in his eyes.

“No,” Katrina cried out to stop him before he struck the guard standing in his path. “Blake, please, no.”

“Wait,” demanded the King. Everyone froze in place. “I would know who you are. Remove the mask.”

A hand snatched the Angel’s hat and mask off. A gasp rippled over the crowd, her identity revealed to all.

“Katrina,” King George muttered in surprise. “What manner of joke is this?”

She looked straight into the King’s sad eyes and answered, “It is not a joke, my lord. I am the Angel in Black.”

“It can’t be.”

“It’s the truth.” Her grim words echoed in the large room. “I have no reason to lie and most assuredly, much to lose.”

The King turned scarlet with indignation; feeling betrayed and made the fool before all. “Take her to the tower,” he yelled. “I’ll not abide your treasonous behavior. Take her away, so I do not have to look upon her face again.”

As the guards started to lead her from the court, Blake started toward her but was forcibly halted.

“Katrina,” he called after her, his anguish in her uttered name.

Looking back, her heart lurched when she met his suffering eyes.

“Why? Dear God, why?” he yelled in agony, struggling against the men who held him.

Katrina’s voice trembled with suppressed emotion and, for the first time since the death of her parents, tears spilled onto her cheeks and blurred her vision. “Because I love you, I love you, Blake — more than life itself.”

The guards forced her from the room and she cried over her shoulder, “Blake, take care of Jason.”

Blake sank to his knees, defeated; the vision of her tears broke his heart.

“Katrina,” he bellowed, his cries echoing after her. “Katrina!”

Chapter Thirty

T
HE SUN SANK SLOWLY
in the western sky, melted shades of rose and purple against the azure-blue, a peaceful, soft sunset. But peace did not enter Katrina as she stood at the only window in her chamber in the tower. A heavy melancholic longing invaded her, the memory of Blake’s distress haunting her. She closed her eyes against the vision of it, but his heart-wrenching cries echoed again and again. Frustrated, she covered her ears to close out the noise.

“Katrina.”

Blake called her name when he entered the cell, but when she did not seem to hear, he gently caressed her shoulder and whispered, “Are you all right, little one?”

Whirling about, Katrina threw her arms around his neck. Blake gathered her into his arms and lifted her from the floor. “How did you manage to get in?” she asked, afraid to let go.

“It took a lot of begging, but the King finally agreed to let me see you.” Blake kissed her neck, sending shivers through her. His breath tickled her ear when he whispered, “We have all night.”

Suddenly shy, Katrina pulled away, a flush staining her cheeks. Feeling awkward and uneasy, she turned to sarcasm to hide her vulnerable state of mind. “One last night of love for the condemned prisoner?”

Blake saw beyond her false facade and scolded, “You little fool. You should not have done this.”

“I suppose you would have me meekly stand by and watch that blackmailing bitch trap you into marriage? I do not need you sacrificing yourself for my sake, Blake Roberts. I knew what dangers I faced when I first rode as the Angel, and I am not afraid of the consequences now.”

Katrina faced Blake head on, her damned pride making her impossible. Hurt by her stubbornness, Blake explained frankly, “It was all for nothing, Katrina. Had you waited but a minute longer, you would have known there would be no blackmail. You sacrificed yourself for nothing. Did you never stop to think of our son, Katrina? Am I to raise Jason with no mother?”

The shock of his words brought tears to her eyes. “Y-You believe Jason is your son?”

He nodded and engulfed her into his arms. Words caught in his constricted throat and his own tears blurred his vision. It took a moment before he could say what was in his heart.

“When Trevor and I found out about Langsford, I started to see things more clearly. Oh, Katrina, can you ever forgive my foolishness? When I look at Jason now, I don’t know how I could possibly have doubted you. Thank you for our beautiful son, little one. I regret not being by your side when you brought him into this world. You have suffered so much pain — and I have caused a great part of it.”

Katrina’s shoulders shook as great sobs tore from her. It was more than he could bear. Blake lifted her and carried her to the small cot in the room. He cradled her in his arms and soothed her, all the years of pent-up emotions tearing from her. Pain, rage, fear, agony, grief, love … Katrina wept for them all, finally able to cry again.

Rocking her like a child, Blake pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her tearstained face. He looked deep into her beautiful blue eyes. “I love you, Katrina,” he spoke softly. “I have done my damnedest to fight it, but to no avail. Never has any woman affected me so. I love you and want to spend my life with you, little one. And nothing and no one will ever come between us again — the King cannot take you from me.”

Suddenly afraid, Katrina stuttered, “B-Blake, you mustn’t do anything foolish. Please —”

Blake stopped her words with a finger to her soft lips. “I did not come here to argue. I came here to tell you of my love, and … to show you.”

He captured Katrina’s red lips, soft and delicious, his kiss tender at first, but deepened as his desire flamed. Katrina pulled away and asked, “Why did you leave so suddenly, with no explanation?”

“Later,” Blake smiled. “I’ll confess my stupidity later.” With deliberate slowness, he nibbled along her neck, and quickly all her questions were forgotten; only their lovemaking was important now.

The two lovers experienced a sweet and tender union, the dark gloomy cell their chamber of love. Blake made love to every inch of her, gently at first, their passions building with each deliberate movement. Katrina returned every caress and Blake’s moans of pleasure mixed with hers.

The bruises and cuts had healed, only a red scar on her shoulder remained, and it slowly faded. Carefully, he kissed it, remembering his pain and fear when she lay near death. Blake’s hands ran along her side; she was lean and strong, yet softly sensuous. Her breasts were full, firm orbs, and he delighted in teasing their rosy tips to hardness with his tongue, loved to feel Katrina squirm against him in delight. Katrina’s small, slender fingers explored and massaged, driving him insane as she aroused him further, the evidence hard between his legs.

Every minute, every second, every inch of their bodies treasured, their ardent lovemaking combining lust and love into a sensual explosion. When Blake entered Katrina, driving hard into her moist softness, she felt a frisson of satisfaction and possession, her nails digging into his muscled buttocks. He pumped deeper and deeper; a fine sheen of perspiration covered their entwined bodies, the scent of their lovemaking an aphrodisiac. Words of love were spoken, words so long left unspoken. No more! No emotion left untouched, no thought left unsaid. Theirs was a night of love and joy, so pure and meaningful, a night forever preserved in their hearts.

Afterward they experienced a contented silence, their bodies entwined as one. Katrina lay curled on top of Blake, her head resting on his wide chest, a shapely leg thrown over his thigh. One of Blake’s arms wrapped about her waist, his hand resting on her rounded buttocks. His other hand held Katrina’s. Together they drifted to sleep, each dreaming of the other. When they woke, they made love again. After, the lovers spoke honestly, clearing the air once and for all of all misunderstandings and distrust that had come between them. As the sun made its way into the sky, it brought a new beginning for the lovers, and the past assumed its proper place. They thought only of the future.

A
NOTHER FULL DAY PASSED
and Katrina waited in her isolated cell, hearing nothing and seeing no one. The night proved unbearable and she longed to have Blake’s arms about her again, to comfort and console her. Morning came and with it a summons from the King. Katrina bathed from a bucket of cold water and dressed in a soft white cotton dress from the bundle Blake had brought. She brushed her hair until it shined and left it unbound; then waited for them to come for her.

Less than an hour later four yeomen warders came, taking her to a wagon for the trip to the palace. When the rickety cart left the protective high stone walls of the prison and passed into the streets of London, soldiers on horseback surrounded them as escort. The sight before Katrina astounded her.

Hundreds of people lined the crowded, narrow streets, each hoping to catch sight of the famous Angel in Black, crying out their devotion and love. Slowly, the group of warders made their way into the cheering crowd, the guards struggling to keep the people away from Katrina. She was touched to the core by their loyalty. A young woman carrying a small babe dodged the men on horseback and ran toward her. She kept pace with the slow-moving wagon and her words drifted to Katrina over the noise.

“God bless you, Angel. Had it not been for the coin left on our table one night, me child would not have had the food she needed to survive the winter. God bless you and keep you.”

Katrina reached down and took the object from her outstretched hand, before losing her in the crowd. She gently fingered a delicate brass cross and chain the woman had given her. She tried to put it around her neck but found it difficult in the rocking cart.

“Allow me, Lady Katrina.”

Surprised, Katrina glanced up into the sympathetic eyes of a guard. He took the necklace and she lifted her hair so he could place the cross about her neck.

“Thank you, sir.” Katrina smiled.

He blushed and shyly mumbled, “My pleasure, ma’am.”

It took them a long time to make their way to the palace gates and Katrina was ushered into a room and left alone. A door opened and the King walked in, his face dour.

Katrina bowed low and the King reached out to touch her head gently. “Rise, my child, we have much to discuss.”

He indicated two chairs in a comer of the large room, and Katrina sat. She waited for him to speak, surprisingly-calm and at ease.

“You have angered me, Katrina.”

With an innocent look, she asked, “In what way, Your Majesty?”

King George scowled and reprimanded her, his voice like a father angry with his child. “You know damn well, by your foolish escapades as the Angel in Black. I just don’t know what you were thinking, riding about robbing people. Just what did you hope to accomplish?”

Trying to control her temper, Katrina willed her voice to remain smooth and soft. “I think you know my reasons for doing what I did.”

“Ah,” snapped the King. “You came to the aid of the poor. Much like Robin Hood, centuries ago. There are other ways, Katrina. It was not a matter to take into your own hands.”

Katrina stood stiffly, her anger bursting forth, apparent now in her manner and speech. “For me, I saw no other way, Your Majesty. I knew only the need to help those I love, to keep them safe from evil people like Langsford and his son. Perhaps one day life will be better for the poor, but wishful thinking wasn’t going to help them. So I took action. Now — not tomorrow!”