Unveiled. Part 26

"What?" Her hands shaking, Katie read the paper, then stared up at Martin numbly.

"That is correct." Taking the paper back from Christopher, Martin grinned. "Ella isn't playing games like you would think. She simply had to be sure that you both loved each other and that you were willing to make a real commitment. She knew that if you both turned down the money, you must be in love, for no one else would do anything quite so foolish. As you can see, she was right."

Katie turned to Christopher and shrieked, falling into his arms with laughter. Overwhelmed, they embraced like children, then Christopher disengaged himself and shook Martin's hand.

"How can we thank you?"

"It isn't me," Martin said, though he seemed pleased. "Ella cared for both of you very much. She did what she thought was right, and even in death it seemed she was. She was a grand old dame, and smart as a whip. We'll miss her." Martin folded the paper and chuckled at the two young people. "You can be sure there will be trouble with the Pembertons over this, but I'll handle that. Congratulations. You've inherited a fortune."

Dumbly Christopher and Katie stared at each other, then once again Christopher shook Martin's hand. They started to leave when the lawyer stopped them at the door.

"One more thing. Christopher, I work with Winston Pepper at the bank. He's one of my clients. Anyway, he spoke to me the other day and informed me that you've done quite well at the job."

"Thank you," Christopher said dryly.

Ignoring his tone, Martin continued: "Evidently, in addition to paying off your debts, he invested some of your earnings into your own recommended stocks. It seems the strategy has paid off handsomely; even on your own, you are a rich man."

Katie hugged him exuberantly. "I knew you could do it! I just knew it!"

Chuckling, Christopher turned to Martin and smiled. "Thank you again. That was very nice of Winston Pepper. I'll tell him on Monday."

"Then you don't mean to leave your job?"

Christopher shook his head. "I find, much to my chagrin, that I like being respectable. If there's one thing I've learned from all this, it is that there is no such thing as security. Ella's fortune will provide that, but should there be an economic crash or some other catastrophe, we could wind up in the same position again. I'm not afraid of being poor, but I'd rather have a solid income, just in case."

"Well said." Martin nodded. "Your father would have been so proud of you."

"And so am I," Katie whispered.

Christopher grinned, then walked through the door with Katie. Martin watched them go with a smile.

Somewhere they had made an old woman very happy. He could feel it.

"Come here, boy. I want to talk to you."

Sean glanced up from his tree fort in the corner of the garden. A man stood silhouetted against the field, his back to the sun and his hands in his pockets. Curious, the little boy stepped down the wooden planks to the ground, keeping a respectable distance between himself and the man who'd addressed him.

"Don't you know me?"

Sean stared at the golden-haired man with the charming smile. There was something familiar about him, and yet...Nodding his head, Sean answered wearily, "You're a stranger. I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"That's very good." The man grinned, then hunched down on his knees to face the boy on his own level. "Did your mother teach you that?" When Sean nodded, the man continued: "That's good. Your mother wants to keep you safe. I'm a friend of hers. Did she ever mention me?"

Sean shook his head in the negative, and the man continued: "Ah, well, she might not have. But we were very close friends at one time. I knew her and Paddy and Moira."

Sean stared at the man, more confused than ever. "Why don't you come for tea then? Most of their friends come for tea."

"I suppose your mother wouldn't think that a good idea. You see, her...husband may not like it. Sometimes men don't like their wives to be friends with other men. Do you know what I mean?"

Sean nodded, though he hadn't the slightest idea.

"I see you're a smart lad. I am very glad we met. I've wanted to know you for a long time, and I'd like us to be friends. Do you think you'd like that?"

"Sure." Sean shrugged.

"Good. I'll come to see you every now and then. But Sean, I don't think you should mention it to Mr. Scott. He might get angry at your mother."

"All right."

"It will be our secret. Next time I come, I'll bring you a present. What would you like?"

"A red ball." Sean smiled as he envisioned the gift. "I saw one in the store yesterday. Christopher said he would get it if I did my ch.o.r.es."

"I'll get it for you anyway." The man stood up and extended a hand, which Sean took. "Nice to meet you, boy. By the way, if your mother should ask, my name is John Sweeney."

There was something familiar about that name, some conversation he remembered between Paddy and his mother that only partially made sense. He couldn't recall what it had been about, but he remembered that Katie was crying and that it hadn't been good.

"Just remember, son, it's our secret."

Sean watched the man walk off, then returned to his play.

Katie tucked her son into the large bed, smiling as he snuggled down into the covers. He looked so small, his blond hair spilled against the white pillow, his eyes an intense blue that reminded her of a time she'd sooner forget.

"Mama?" Sean spoke softly, his eyes already heavy with sleep. "Are we going to stay here now?"

"Yes. This is your home and we don't ever have to leave it. Ella took care of all that."

Sean smiled, his freckles crinkling. "Is she like an angel, Mama?"

Katie grinned as she smoothed the little boy's hair. "I guess you could say that. She said she'd always take care of you and me, and she's still doing that. I suppose that makes her a guardian angel."

"Like the one in the picture."

Katie nodded, remembering the print that Sean saw in a picture book. He'd been entranced by the appearance of the beautiful angel, watching over two children who were crossing a broken wooden bridge. For some reason that image brought him comfort, and now Ella had taken the place of the spirit.

"I miss her."

"I miss her, too," Katie agreed. "Now go to sleep. You have a big day tomorrow. Christopher is taking you horseback riding, and Paddy wants to take you to church."

Sean nodded, then snuggled back into the covers. Katie pressed a kiss on his forehead, then started for the door. Her hand was on the doork.n.o.b, when Sean spoke softly again.

"I saw your friend today, Mama. He said his name was John Sweeney."

Her breath stopped. Frozen, Katie turned toward her son, unable to believe what she'd just heard.

"Sean." Forcing herself to remain calm, Katie questioned him quietly. "What did you say? Who did you see?"

"John Sweeney." Sean yawned, his eyelids fluttering. "He was in the garden. He said he knew you and Paddy and Moira. He's nice, Mama."

Panic seized her, but she struggled not to show it. "What else did he say?"

"He said he wanted to be my friend. He's buying me the red ball-you know, the one Christopher promised me. But he said I didn't have to do the ch.o.r.es to get it. He'll bring it next time." Sean yawned once more. "I'm going to sleep now."

"Sean." Katie came to stand beside his bed. "This is important, and I want you to think hard. Did he say anything else?"

She dreaded the answer, and when it came, she didn't know whether to be relieved or more puzzled. Sean opened his eyes and thought, then shook his head.

"No. He didn't say anything else. Just that he wanted to be friends. He is your friend, isn't he?"

"I know him." Katie forced herself to breathe slowly and not to reveal her emotions. "Sean, I don't want you speaking to that man. If he ever comes to see you again, I want you to tell me. Do you understand?"

"But why?" Awake now, Sean stared at his mother in confusion.

"Because he isn't a good person. I don't want you meeting with him or accepting anything from him. Will you promise me?"

Sean nodded. "I will."

"Good. I know you don't understand, and when you are big enough, I promise I will tell you everything there is to know about John Sweeney. But until then, stay away from him. And Sean." Katie leaned closer, her tone intense. "Don't tell Christopher he was here."

"All right." The little boy buried his face in the pillow. "Good night, Mama."

Katie kissed him, then softly retreated and closed the door. Outside, she leaned against the wooden planks, her mind awhirl.

John Sweeney. She'd almost hoped that he'd forgotten his threats once he realized their financial situation. He couldn't possibly have learned of their inheritance; it had all happened too quickly and too recently.

Yet his visit could only mean one thing-that he intended to make good his threats. Katie choked, bile rising in her throat as she pictured him confessing his parenthood to Sean.

My G.o.d, Katie thought, forcing down a sob. John Sweeney would corrupt her son; she had no doubt about that. And even if he didn't do it intentionally, just Sean finding out what kind of man fathered him would leave an impression that Katie couldn't easily erase.

This couldn't be happening, but it was. Somehow she had to get him out of her life. She would get the money to pay his bribe, but Katie knew that wouldn't suffice. John Sweeney's visit to Sean had proven that. He knew she'd do anything to protect Sean, anything at all, and he intended to use that knowledge.

"Katie? Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Christopher stepped into the hallway, seeing his wife standing against the door, looking pale and wretched.

Katie forced a smile and nodded. "I'm fine. I just...felt ill for a few moments, but it's pa.s.sed."

"Good." Christopher took her hand. "Come on to bed. It's late. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," Katie said. "Just fine."

TWENTY-EIGHT.

"Could you spare a dime, friend?"

Christopher looked down and saw a beggar sprawled beneath the window of a p.a.w.nshop, calling to the pa.s.sersby. Clad in a ragged coat, his pockets frayed and hanging from the weight of a liquor bottle, the beggar stared pathetically into the crowd, ignored by most.

Digging into his pocket, Christopher pulled out a few bills and handed them to the astounded man. "Bless you, sir!" the beggar cried, then folded the money reverently and scuttled off in search of food.

G.o.d, it felt good to be rich again. Christopher sighed with satisfaction, pleased that he'd been able to help someone else.

His newfound wealth didn't change much else. He had his home, his family, and best of all Kate. But knowing that there was money again, food on the table, and enough to help other people, made him feel like a different person.

In truth, he was doing quite well on his own without Ella's money. The investments that Winston had put aside for him were paying off handsomely, and he continued to reinvest the dividends in new enterprises. By doing this, he had the satisfaction of a.s.sisting newly formed businesses and still continued to reap a handsome profit for himself and his clients. It was, he had to admit, gratifying.

Everything, in fact, was perfect, with one exception. Staring absently into the p.a.w.nshop window, Christopher thought of Kate.

Something was wrong; he could sense it. She was carrying their first child and wasn't due for several months, but she acted distant and depressed, and sometimes, he could tell she had been crying. When he questioned her, she would always rea.s.sure him that everything was fine, but deep within himself, he knew it wasn't.

Eunice thought it was the child. She told him that many women experienced ambivalent feelings when in a delicate way, and that he shouldn't worry. But for all their problems, Christopher knew Katie like the back of his hand and sensed it was more than that. Yet if she refused to tell him, there was little he could do.

He started to walk on when a glimmer from the window caught his eye. Curious, he glanced back, then froze as he spotted a small lacquered box positioned in the center of a piece of blue velvet, displayed to draw attention.

It was the music box he had given Kate. Christopher wouldn't forget the tiny box, with its ivory roses and trailing leaves. He'd bought it with the last pennies he'd possessed, wanting to make her happy and surprise her. She had seemed genuinely to like the present, so it was doubly odd to see it returned to the p.a.w.nshop.

He stepped into the shop and waited until the rotund Italian owner put down the gla.s.s he was polis.h.i.+ng and came to the counter.

"I would like to purchase that music box in the window," Christopher explained, then reached into his pocket and withdrew a wad of bills. The merchant's eyes grew wide and he hurried off to get the box.

"Yes, sir. Anything else, sir? I have a lovely new set of china, imported from England. And a nice rosewood table that a lady would love."

"No, just the box." Christopher studied the piece, then glanced up at the eager shopkeeper. "You wouldn't remember who brought this in, would you?"

"Oh, yes. A handsome man, with blond hair. John Sweeney was his name. He said it belonged to his wife, but she no longer liked the tune." His smile fading, the shopkeeper leaned closer with a worried expression. "He said it was his to sell. There is no problem, is there?"

"No." Pocketing the box, Christopher paid the man and walked from the store.

A handsome young man. Instantly he dismissed the thought. No, Katie was a lot of things, could impersonate Fan Pemberton and manage to keep her secrets to herself, but she wasn't a cheat. He couldn't imagine her carrying on a secret affair. And yet...

Doubt tormented him. Why then had she sold the box? Who was this man, and how did he come to possess this intimate gift he'd given his wife? There seemed no easy explanation.

He had to stop this. No one knew better than Christopher what mistrust would do to a marriage, and the last thing he wanted was to return to their previous relations.h.i.+p, full of doubt and insecurities. He loved Kate; there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her. And he sensed that she returned that love. Yet he still felt uneasy.

He would ask her tonight. He wouldn't let this fester, nor would he continue to wait patiently while something else ate away at her. He would demand an explanation and would clear the air. Surely Kate would have some logical reasons, and he would laugh and it would all be over. Easier now in his mind, he hurried back to work.

"...I really don't know why you're so upset. All I did was see the boy."

Katie stared at John Sweeney, her blue eyes full of grief. "You know I don't want you to see him. For the love of G.o.d, John, don't do this. Sean is innocent of everything. He deserves a chance in life-don't take that away from him."

"Well, now, I didn't say I couldn't be persuaded." John Sweeney grinned, but the smile vanished as quickly as it came. "But I warned you what would happen if you didn't pay up. I haven't a cent from you for weeks, Katie darling. We'll have to remedy that, or else."