The Sheik and the Slave

Katharine leaned in and kissed the older woman on her cheek.

“Thank you. For everything,” Katharine said.

Abigail touched the young woman’s cheek and then stood up quickly.

“Let us be away. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Abigail had graciously agreed to accompany Katharine and her son back to England, while the novices would follow on behind them.

“Yes. The journey is a long one,” Katharine said. She began to reach for her son, but then turned quickly to the Abbess.

“Abigail, I’m worried. My family. What will they think? I am worried they will be ashamed of me. That they will not be able to forgive this transgression.”

“No, my dear. You are wrong. You are their daughter. They will love you and your son. And, there is still time to set things right. All is not lost.”

“You mean to marry him?”

“Yes. You are not lost to them, nor to God. God is watching over you, my dear. It will all be settled. You will see.”

“He never responded to your letter,” Katharine said. She looked concerned as she made eye contact with Abigail.

“My dear girl. That letter was sent to Arabia. So many things could have happened to that letter. He may have been looking for you this entire time and be beside himself because you have disappeared. You will never know until you see him and talk to him.”

“You are right,” Katharine agreed. She clasped her hands in her hands and smiled. “Let us away.”

The two women collected their belongings and, with the babe wrapped up tightly in his blankets, they boarded the stagecoach bound for the coast.

Chapter 22

The stagecoach swayed gently as Abigail and Katharine took turns watching after the child. The trip from Kilkenny to England was nothing compared to the trip from England to Arabia. However, Katharine was overcome with anxiety and was worried about the reception she would receive from her family.

She was certain her father would be pleased and overjoyed to see her after all this time. However, she wondered at her mother’s response and had no thoughts at all on what they would think about her son.

Being an unmarried woman with a child did happen, but usually not to women of her rank. As a Lady, she had been expected to marry well and produce children. She had not married at all, and now had a son. She wondered if her mother would acknowledge her son or if she would be ostracized. It preyed on her mind.

Abigail was kindness itself as they journeyed closer to England. As a religious woman, she reminded Katharine that God would forgive her, and that once she was married, everything would be well. She spoke often of God’s love, and she was a great comfort to Katharine as the stagecoach continued on its path.

***

Lord Edward was intrigued as he read the letter from the chief magistrate of the Bow Street Runners. Katharine had been traced to the mercenary Jean Baptiste, who had been seen by the young groom on his property. Interestingly, though Mohammed’s advisor had told him that she had been sent to Arabia, the Runners had found no evidence of that.

The Bow Street Runners also noted, as Mohammed had, that Jean Baptiste had been murdered. But the disturbing fact the Runners learned was that the last man to have made contact with Jean Baptiste had been an Arab man. One barmaid and several patrons of the inn had sworn that they had seen a man dressed in dark Arab garb visit the mercenary, and that man was the last person to have seen him alive.

The conclusion was made that the Arab man had killed Jean Baptiste. The Arab who had killed him was described as large and bulky, with dark eyes and hair and a hooknose.

Lord Edward placed the lengthy letter on his desk. Though his daughter’s whereabouts were still unknown, the death of the one who had kidnapped her appeared to have been solved. Would Mohammed know who the murderer was?

***

Katharine chewed on her lip, eyeing the landscape as it passed by. This is home, she thought. England, with its beautiful, rainy, cloudy, green, lush landscape was home. She smiled as she looked out the window and then back again to Abigail, who was quietly snoring. Her son was asleep in her arms.

She placed a h

and over her stomacher and tried to quell the butterflies that danced in her belly. She had come so far, but this time she was not returning as the innocent daughter. This time, she had borne a child out of wedlock.

She looked over at her son. No matter her faults, she would not allow her child to be abused or mistreated in any way. If her family would not accept her son, she would have to make her own way in the world. She didn’t know how she would do that, but she would have to try.

The stagecoach swayed slightly and she heard the gravel under the horses’ hooves. That signified the beginning of the Willow Manor drive. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to tremble.