Название: In the Tudor Court Collection
Автор: Amanda McCabe
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
isbn: 9781472094506
isbn:
‘Kathryn…’ Veronique came into the salon, looking flustered. ‘You have a visitor…’
‘A visitor?’ Kathryn’s heart raced. What could her companion mean? Was it Lorenzo? A man had followed close on the heels of Veronique and as she saw him she got to her feet with a glad cry. ‘Father! Oh, I am so glad to see you. How came you here? I had no word…’
There was anger in his face as he looked at her. ‘You have had no word from me? I have waited months for a letter from you, Kathryn. I travelled to Venice, to the home of Signor Santorini, and learned there that you have married. What is this? Why have you behaved so ill towards me? I do not think I have deserved this from you, daughter.’
‘Forgive me, Father,’ Kathryn said. ‘I would not have hurt you for the world. It is a long story and I must ask you to sit down while I tell it.’ She looked at her companion. ‘This gentleman is my father—Sir John Rowlands. Would you please order some refreshments for us, Veronique?’
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, madame,’ Sir John said. ‘Forgive me if I was short with you earlier, but I was angry and anxious for Kathryn.’
‘There is no need to be angry,’ Kathryn told him as her companion smiled and left the room. ‘I am sorry that you did not get my letter, for it would have explained all. Lorenzo married me because there was some question of my good name having been besmirched.’ She shook her head as he fired up. ‘No, no, listen to my story, I pray you, before you judge. Lorenzo has done nothing that should make you angry.’
‘Tell me it all, then,’ Sir John said. His anger had been caused by months of frustration and anxiety, but now that he was here and could see she was well, his feelings were a mixture of relief and pique.
As Kathryn’s story unfolded his emotions ran the gamut between fury and distress. That his child should have been kidnapped! He was grateful to Lorenzo Santorini for rescuing her, but blamed him for having brought it on her in the first place. But when he heard that his old friend had been thought lost and Kathryn had been alone, he began to understand that she had been lucky. Had Santorini been another kind of man, her fate might have been very different.
‘I see,’ he said as she finished her story. ‘And where is your husband, Kathryn? I should wish to meet him before I give you my blessing.’
‘He has been fighting, Father. You must have heard tell of the terrible battle that took place more than two weeks ago?’
‘Yes, I heard of it in Venice. I was delayed because of it, but surely he should be home by now?’
‘One of his captains came to see me,’ Kathryn said. ‘Lorenzo went to see Lord Mountfitchet in Sicily. Michael said he would not be long. I am expecting him any day now.’
‘Then I must wait in patience I suppose,’ her father said. He smiled at her. ‘Well, come, kiss me, daughter. I was angry, but now that you have told me all, I am prepared to forgive you.’
‘Two galleys to the leeward, sir,’ Lorenzo’s second-in-command came to inform him as he was looking at some papers in his cabin. ‘I’m not sure—but I think they are Corsairs.’
‘Damn it!’ Lorenzo buckled on his sword as he prepared to go outside and investigate for himself. The galleys were closing on them fast, and as he looked he saw that they were flying Rachid’s flag.
Cursing himself for being caught off guard, Lorenzo gave the order for battle. It was two to one and it was his own fault, for he had been impatient to return to Kathryn. Had he waited another few days they might all have sailed together.
He had imagined that the Corsair’s galleys would have gone back to Algiers to rest up for the winter and lick their wounds, but it looked as if they were hungry for a fight. Well, they would get one. He was outnumbered, but his men were loyal and, if need be, they would fight to the death.
Kathryn and her father were sitting in the salon drinking wine and eating biscuits when they heard the sound of voices in the hall. Kathryn jumped to her feet as Michael walked in, followed closely by Lord Mountfitchet.
‘Kathryn.’ Lord Mountfitchet’s expression made her heart catch with fright. ‘Forgive me, but I fear I have terrible news.’
‘Lorenzo?’ Her face was white and she might have fallen if her father had not been by her side. ‘Something has happened to him…’
He put out his hand to steady her. ‘Damn it, Charles! What is it?’
‘John—I did not know you were here,’ Charles said. He looked grey in the face, clearly much distressed. ‘The news is the worst imaginable. Lorenzo insisted on setting out alone, for he was impatient to see Kathryn. He imagined the seas would be safe enough after the recent battle but…’ He put a shaking hand to his face. ‘I can scarce believe it. To have found him and then to lose him…’
‘What are you talking about?’ Sir John barked. Veronique had helped Kathryn to sit down and was giving her a drink of restorative wine. ‘What has happened to Kathryn’s husband?’
‘We found the wreckage of his galley,’ Charles said. ‘It had been severely damaged and abandoned, though there was a man clinging to wreckage in the water. Somehow the poor devil had survived for two days. He was half out of his mind and is still in a fever, but he told us that the Corsair had taken prisoners—and that Lorenzo was either dead or a prisoner of his enemy.’
‘No!’ Kathryn cried, terror sweeping through her. ‘No, not Rachid. He will surely kill him.’ Tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘There is such hatred between them….’
‘Do not despair, Kathryn.’ Michael spoke for the first time. ‘I have already sent out ships to make contact with Rachid. We shall offer a ransom for him. I shall go myself to Algiers. I promise that we shall leave no stone unturned in the effort to find him.’
‘Lorenzo…’ Kathryn bowed her head as the pain of her grief almost overwhelmed her. ‘This is my fault. I made him love me and…’ It was what he had feared. Because of his love for her, he had thrown his natural caution to the winds. He had been impatient to see her. ‘Oh, my love, forgive me!’
‘What nonsense is this, Kathryn?’ Her father looked bewildered. He rubbed at a spot in his chest as if it bothered him. ‘How can it be your fault?’
‘Excuse me,’ she said, tears blinding her eyes. ‘I would be alone.’
The men stared after her as she fled, but Veronique followed.
‘What was all that about?’ Sir John asked. He rubbed at his chest again. Sometimes he hardly felt the pain, but at others it became severe. He needed to take one of the powders that his physician had given him, but for the moment it must wait.
‘Lorenzo told me his story recently,’ Charles said. ‘Please allow me to tell you what he related to me—and then perhaps you may begin to understand what this means.’
‘I must go,’ Michael said. ‘There is no time to waste if we are to find Lorenzo alive. Please tell Kathryn that I will do everything I can.’
‘Any ransom,’ Charles said. ‘I will give every penny I possess for his safe return.’
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