Catherine stood in the doorway of the drawing room, her hand pressed to the cherry wood frame for support, her other hand unconsciously splayed over her rounded stomach. "Please order the servants to pack, we leave for Yorkshire tonight."
o0o
"What is the meaning of this, Catherine?" her father asked as he walked into her bedroom two hours later. "We planned to leave at the end of the week, why the sudden change?"
Catherine drew a deep breath and released it slowly. She was tired and weary of this whole matter. It was time for the truth. "Dulcie, please leave us."
Dulcie bobbed her head and closed the door behind her as she left the room.
"Sit, Papa," she said, patting the spot beside her on the bed. "There is much I must tell you." And she did. She spent the next hour detailing her capture, the reason behind it, and the pirate Lucifer's true identity.
"Good Lord, I had not thought the past would come back to haunt me so," her father said. "I had thought Lucian dead. I had hoped otherwise, but the evidence pointed to his death. That was why I helped Charles fight to retain the Darcmoor title and estates. I had assumed someone was posing as Lucian Darcmoor and laying claim to the properties.
"Have the Darcmoor properties been granted to Charles?" Catherine asked.
"The court has postponed their decision due to my request, but now — now I will inform them that Lucian Darcmoor is indeed who he claims he is and that his inheritance should be transferred to him immediately."
"Can you tell me now why you signed those papers? she asked, needing desperately to hear a reasonable explanation.
"Forgive me, Catherine, but I cannot. I made a promise a long time ago and I cannot go back on my word."
Catherine understood better than anyone what her father's word meant to him and she didn't pursue the matter. Someday she would learn the truth. Until then she would assume her father's reason was a just one.
"You are right, it is best we return to Yorkshire. You need rest and you need distance between you and Lucian at least for the moment until the matter can be thought through and settled. I will send my solicitor to the court with papers in regard to his lands, and then we will leave at once for home. The servants can see to the rest of the packing and follow later. Gather what you wish to take and I will have the carriage brought around."
Her father hurried out of the room, mumbling to himself.
Catherine sighed for relief. She was finally going home.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Lucian rode as if the devil was on his tail. Branches sped past him barely missing his face, some glanced off his shoulders, but he paid them no heed, he rode on.
The black beast beneath him could barely be contained when he rode into the stable at Brynwood. He settled the horse, riding him about the stable area to calm him. Then he dismounted and threw the reins to the stable master to tend to the animal.
His hasty strides took him directly through the back of the house past startled servants who fled fearfully out of the new master's way. He rounded the center staircase and took the steps two at a time, causing a young housemaid to drop her bundle of linens in fright and execute a hasty sign of the cross as he passed her.
The whole manor claimed he was the devil himself with his long red hair and fiery disposition. Lucian paid them no attention. He had discovered in the month's time he had been in residence at Brynwood that he hated England, its weather, the people, and his own lands. He wanted to go home. Home to his island. Home with Catherine.
"Santos," he bellowed form the top of the steps, causing every female servant in the house to cross themselves protectively.
Santos appeared at the bottom of the staircase, casting an optimistic glance up at him.
"I've had enough," Lucian announced, and Santos fled like the wind up the steps.
He followed Lucian to his bedroom, closing the door behind them.
Lucian began to shed his clothes as he spoke. "Get the Black Skull ready and bring her to the eastern cove and anchor her there. We sail for home tomorrow evening."
"Catherine?"
Lucian threw his shirt off. "She's coming with us."
"You've spoken to her?"
"No," he snapped irritably. "That damn servant, Dunwith, insists she's much too ill to receive visitors and won't let me in."
Santos frowned. "Do you think she is ill?"
"No, she’s being obstinate. I had thought time and sending her flowers and small gifts with notes expressing my concern would soften her enough to at least see me. But she has not acknowledged one gift or request to speak with her. My patience is at an end."
"Then you plan to abduct her?"
"Not myself. I'll send Bones and Jolly. I've had them watching the Abelard house. They've managed to locate the whereabouts of her bedroom, as no one has seen her outside since her return. I don't think she will give them as much trouble as she would give me if I came for her."