Every part of his body burned and ached. Felix knew what was going on around him, but his mind grew fuzzy so fast.

He was going to die.

A laugh bubbled up in his throat that he didn't have the strength to stop. To think he'd made it through being an officer for Metropolitan Police and taking a bullet, and then coming to the Amazon jungle for three these years, only to die like this? Good grief, this wasn't the way he wanted to die. He could envision himself fighting a tiger—or jaguar. Yes, the jaguar.

The jungle cat leapt onto him and wrestled him to the ground. The animal opened its jowls and the sun glinted off the cat's razor-sharp teeth. Felix braced his hands on the animal's mouth, to keep from being eaten. They continue to struggle. At times, Felix thought the animal would overtake him, but soon he would find his strength and overcome it. He flipped the animal on its back. The cat growled, ripping pieces of his skin off. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt. Only a slight sting. Felix wouldn't stop fighting for his life. But soon, his strength faded, and his arms became weak. That's when the jaguar had control. The animal lunged at Felix and clamped his teeth on Felix's neck. Pain shot through him, then, finally...nothing. He was dead.

Grinning, he nodded in satisfaction as the vision evaporated from his mind. Now that was a hero's death. Not some coward's poisonous dart that shot out from nowhere by someone who wasn't brave enough to face him. Where was the jackal now? Why couldn't the weakling come out of hiding and fight like a real man?

Felix's vision blurred and he blinked a few times. His men sneaked peeks at him. Sadness filled their expressions. I'm definitely not going to make it. But I must!

And his beautiful, kind-hearted, stubborn Katrina—the only woman he had ever truly loved. The only woman he wanted to bear his children and grow old with. After his death, she would be sad. Lonely. But she would eventually move on with her life. Hopefully, the money from her father would allow her a better life so she wouldn't have to serve ale to drunkards.

Katrina brought a canteen to his mouth, urging him to drink. Her voice was soft and smooth. As the liquid touched his tongue, bitterness coated his mouth. He turned his face away and mumbled that he didn't want anymore. She pushed him to drink it...in a louder and more commanding voice. To satisfy her and stop her from yelling, he drank. Now it tasted like those herbs he had his men gather that replaced the quinine medicine. She must be trying to get him better. That's my girl.

Once again, his thoughts drifted away from what was going on around him, and he pictured the family he hadn't seen for so long. He missed his mother terribly, and he wondered if she had missed him as well. He'd thought about his sisters, Ellie and Laura, and his grandmother, constantly. He prayed someone kind would take care of them. Hopefully his cousin would become responsible after he took over the Earl's title. Felix would have made a fine Earl, too. He would have been respected and admired. He would have been happy in England as long as Katrina was by his side. He'd also miss his life in Brazil, but all good things must come to an end.

Just like his life.

Farewell everyone. Farewell, my only true love, Katrina.

Yet, even as he mumbled his goodbyes to everyone, something in the back of his mind told him to fight. The voice was commanding, and almost sounded like Katrina, but the instructions were clear...stay awake and fight for his life!

* * * *

Tears poured from Katrina's eyes, making it impossible to see where she walked. She glanced at Pete who also had watery eyes. For the past little while, they'd heard Felix's disjointed mumbles about his life. About his regrets. His loves and what he would miss after he died. He went as far as to tell everyone farewell. That's when Katrina's heart had broken to pieces and she sobbed openly. Remorse filled her. Why had she fought off his advances—his love? She should have just accepted it. Embraced it. She should have let his sweet words convince her that although she had a terrible past, they would make it as husband and wife and their lives would be happy.

Now it was too late.

Angrily, she snapped her shoulders back and marched onward. No! It was not too late. They would be at her father's plantation any minute now. Her father would help. He wouldn't allow Felix to die.

"Pete?" she asked with a cracked voice.

"Yes, Miss Landon?"

"What was Felix talking about...that he'd make a great Earl?"

"I do not know, Miss. All's I know is that his father was an Earl."

She recalled when Felix had briefly mentioned the Earl, and it was in past tense. "I wonder if his father died."

Pete nodded. "I wonder that as well."

"That would explain why Felix has to return to England."

"It does."

Why hadn't he said anything to her? She sniffed back another sob. Perhaps he hadn't thought she was Countess material. More tears fell and her heart broke a little more. Of course, she wasn't. Who was she kidding? They both knew that a thieving tavern wench wouldn't make a good wife to an earl.

But that was neither here nor there. What mattered right now was getting Felix to her father quickly.

In the distance, the trees started changing form. No longer did they canopy the jungle, but instead, the land appeared to be farmland. Rows and rows of shiny green rubber trees decorated the horizon now. Finally! They were here! Yet, where was the house? She groaned. Please let them be close!

The men ahead of her must have seen something that she could not. They shouted and waved their arms. Off to the side of them, another group of men ran their way. Relief flooded her, bringing on more tears. Help was here!

Suddenly, Felix went limp. She stumbled, trying not to drop him. Pete did the same. He swore and adjusted Felix in his arms a little better. Turning his head, he called out to the other men in a different language. All of them broke into a run.

"Felix! Open your eyes," she cried hysterically. "You cannot die on me! Do you hear me?" She shook his limp body. Fear rushed through her. "Felix, I love you. Please don't die. Come back to me. Open your eyes and look at me. I want to see your incredible blue eyes and charming smile." Her voice broke as more tears fell.

The men from the plantation were by her side, taking Felix's body away and laying him on the ground. The energy left her limbs, and she fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands. Pain pierced her knees, but she didn't care to find out why. She stared at the men surrounding Felix. They checked his eyes, his mouth. Pressed their ear to his chest.

One of them nodded as his gaze jumped up and met Pete's worried eyes. The man said something in his foreign language. Excitement lit Pete's eyes as he swung his attention to her.

"He is still breathing."

Relief washed over her and she cried and prayed harder. Three men lifted Felix and hurried toward the fields. Pete and another man helped Katrina to her feet. Mentally, she yelled at her limbs to work. She had to move. She must get to the house and be with Felix.

It was if the Lord heard her prayers, because angels lifted her as she stumbled toward the group of men carrying Felix. Everything passed by her in such a frenzy. She didn't care to look around her. Nothing mattered but him.

Soon, a large, white mansion trimmed with a golden color loomed before her. Three stories high with large windows. The front yard was landscaped with grass, flowers, and cobblestone walkways. A house made for a rich man. Before they could reach the double front doors, servants ran out, adorned similarly to what the servants wore in Macapá, except slightly fancier.

When she entered the house, the first thing she saw was an older brown-skinned, round woman with a kerchief tied around her head and an apron around her thick waist. She issued instructions in their foreign tongue as she pointed her chubby finger toward the stairs. The large men carrying Felix rushed him up the stairs. Katrina moved to follow, but the woman came toward her and gently took hold of her arm.

"No, child. Ya cannot go with dem."

Her English was broken, but at least Katrina could understand. "But—why not?"

"My child," she cooed sweetly and patted Katrina's face, "a sweet, young woman like yerself cannot enter his bedroom. Is not right. Dat hansome man of yers will be looked afta."

"I—I don't want him to—die," Katrina whispered brokenly.

"De doctah will make him betta." She took Katrina's hands. "Are ya Miss Landon?"

"Yes."

"Come with me."

The woman took her up the stairs and down a long hallway. The furnishings appeared to be new and very expensive. Even the rugs were nice and clean as if nobody had ever walked on them.

They moved into a bedroom. Katrina stopped suddenly, sucking in a quick breath. This room alone was larger than the tavern she worked at. The biggest bed she'd ever seen sat against the far wall canopied with lovely netting and lavender lace draperies. Cushioned chairs, a sofa and table were also in the room, giving the appearance of a small sitting room. Two cedar armoires were placed by the bed next to the white and lavender curtained window. Never in her life had she seen such luxuries.

"Are ya hungry, child?" the housekeeper asked.

"Not really." Katrina placed her hand on her stomach. "I couldn't possibly eat at a time like this, not until I know Felix will be all right."

"Ya must eat. Gain strength. I have fruits and nuts sent up."

Apparently, Katrina's words didn't mean much at her father's house. "Fine."

"I have tub and water brought up for bath." The other woman bustled to the nearest armoire and opened up the doors. Many gowns hung in the space, filling it up.

Katrina gasped and walked to get a better look. Such lovely colors—like a rainbow after a rainstorm. Satins and silks, and lace galore.

"Ya dress in one of deese, yes?"

Apparently, her father didn't want to meet her unless she looked like a lady. "Yes, I suppose I could wear one of those gowns."

"Good." She waddled to the door. "I have de water brought up now."

Once the woman left, Katrina took careful steps to the door and opened it to peek down the hallway. She had no clue where the men took Felix, so she must do as the older woman asked. What else could she do besides worry?

Blowing out a frustrated breath between her lips, she wandered back inside the room, walking slowly around each piece of furniture. She ran her finger across the material of the sofa, careful not to get it dirty, since she was certain she was filthy. In the corner of the room stood a mirror. She hesitated in going over to look at herself. Since they'd left the little village of Manaus, she hadn't looked in a mirror. Now she didn't dare.

Curiosity moved her closer. Good Heavens! Was that her? She looked horrid—bad enough to scare small children. Dirt was smudged all over her face except where tears had streaked it, making her almost unrecognizable. The dark color coating her hair was definitely not the shade she'd had before starting out on her journey. Even the texture had changed. No longer was it silky smooth, but instead it was ratted. She groaned and pushed her fingers through her hair—as much as she could, anyway.

Her gaze wandered down her neck to the man's shirt she wore. Hadn't it been beige when she first put it on? Now it was the color of a mud puddle after a heavy rain. And her trousers and boots... Just filthy!

The doorknob rattled mere seconds before the door was opened and the housekeeper brought in a tray of food, as promised. Behind her a man carried a tub and three other men carried buckets of water—one in each hand. Once the tray of food was on the table, the woman moved to another cupboard and pulled out a bar of soap and two towels.

"Come, come. Time for bath." She gestured with her head.

Katrina waited until the men poured the water in the tub and left before she started undressing. She removed her boots first, enjoying the feeling of her toes being unrestricted.

She searched to find the other woman and found her standing by the armoire. "You can leave now. I can bathe myself, thank you."

The woman nodded and pointed to the gowns. "Wear pretty dress when ya meet yer father."

Katrina held her breath, trying not to voice her annoyance in front of the other woman. "All right."

The housekeeper then moved to the door. Before she left, she looked over her shoulder at Katrina. "Name is Mrs. Cooney."

Katrina smiled. "Nice to meet you."

The woman turned and left the room.

It didn't take Katrina long before she had taken off all her clothes and stepped into the warm tub. As she sank into the water, letting the cool liquid splash over her, she sighed and closed her eyes. How she had missed this. It seemed like ages since she'd felt such refreshing, calming water surround her in pleasure. Weariness consumed her, and she realized if she stayed in here much longer, she'd fall asleep.

Shaking the sleep out of her head, she quickly washed her hair and then her body. Little by little she started feeling like herself again instead of the dirty ragamuffin she'd been earlier. Her body felt smoother, and she could actually comb her fingers through her hair without difficulty.

She climbed out of the tub and toweled herself dry. Immediately, her thoughts turned back to Felix. She prayed he was all right. If he had taken a turn for the worse, someone had better inform her, or she'd tear through this house looking for him. Being by his side to nurse him back to health would not only do her good, but him as well. He needed to be able to talk to her coherently. She wanted to tell him things as well. There was so much in her heart she wanted to say to him, things that should have been said yesterday if her pride had allowed it.

As she searched through the armoires, she discovered plenty of clothes, not only undergarments, but gowns and shoes and bonnets. It was remarkable when she noticed they were all her size. How had her father known? They'd never met. Had he been spying on her all of these years?

Chills crawled up her spine but she shrugged it off. All these questions would be answered as soon as she met Mr. Henry Landon.

She dressed in a pale pink dress with a white lace overskirt. The short sleeves narrowed to just above her elbows. Although it was a lovely gown, she especially liked it because of the square neck trimmed in white ribbon. In this humidity, the more air her body could get, the better she'd feel.

Once dressed, she sat at the vanity and picked up the brush. This afternoon's heat had mostly dried her hair, but thankfully, it was easy to stroke through her thick locks. Whatever that soap was made of also released a rose scented fragrance. Truly, she'd never felt so lavish before.

On the vanity, there were many small, jeweled hair combs and silky ribbons. She didn't feel like doing anything special with her hair, so she braided it down the back, tying the end with a pink ribbon.

A knock came upon the door before it opened. Mrs. Cooney peeked her head inside. "Ready to see yer father?"

Katrina stood and squared her shoulders. "Not yet. I want to know about Mr. Knightly. Is he well? Was the doctor able to help him?"

The housekeeper smiled wide. "Yes, Miss. Doctor gave him antidote. Soon poison will be outta body, I'm sure."

"You...don't know for sure?"

The kind eyes of the woman softened. "I have seen many men recover after antidote was given." She nodded. "Mr. Knightly will recover. He is a fighter."

Happiness filled Katrina's chest and tears stung her eyes. She rushed to the older woman and clasped her hands. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. He will be up and moving around in few days. Mark my words."

"Oh, thank the Lord." Sighing, Katrina placed her hand to her chest. "Can I see him now?"

"No. He's resting."

Nodding, Katrina dried her eyes. "Then I shall see him after I visit my father."

"Very good." The older woman motioned her hand. "Follow me. I take ya to de master."

This time when Katrina thought about seeing him, her nerves didn't shake through her whole body as they'd done before. Of course, knowing that Felix was all right comforted her greatly. She still wasn't certain how she would behave in front of Henry Landon, but she must act like a proper woman. She must make her mother proud, and Felix. He would want her to be gracious. So, for Felix, she would be...to a point, of course.