The Captain's Pearl (5 page)

“You must have misunderstood me, Captain.”

“I'm sure I did.” He turned as the junk drew alongside the
China Shadow
.

A few minutes later, Lian stood on her father's ship and stared at the men waiting for orders from her brother. The ship breathed beneath her feet, threatening to knock her to her knees. She held tightly to the railing.

“You shall get your sea legs eventually,” Bryce said as he walked past her. “Can't imagine a Catherwood who can't cross the deck of a berthed ship.”

“Give her a chance.” Davis replied. “Wait here, Lian.”

She watched as Davis gestured. When the crew started to scamper for the ropes, she realized he had ordered the ship to sail. She lurched across the deck and winced as she struck a wooden box. Although her head was light from the motion of the ship, she fought it until she could tug on her brother's sleeve.

“What is it, Lian?” he asked.

“We cannot go yet. What of Mother?”

“What is she babbling about now?” demanded Bryce.

When she whirled to face him, she caught the unguarded expression in his green eyes as they raked along her. She drew his coat around her. She recalled his mouth burning fire into hers. If she touched him … if he touched her … she shivered. She must think only of Mother. Turning back to Davis, she repeated, “What of Mother?”

Davis frowned. “Canton is ten miles behind us. Lian, if you go back, they shall force you back into that brothel. Come with us, and forget what is behind you.”

“Let her go.” Bryce laughed tautly. “If she is stupid enough to go back, let her go.”

Fury twisted her brother's face.

Lian retorted, “Mother will be hurt by Mother's Younger Brother if I leave her in Canton. Older Brother, you promised you would bring my mother.”

“I did, didn't I?” Davis jammed his hands into his pockets and sighed. “Catherwoods keep their promises.”

Bryce motioned for his captain to follow him farther along the rail. “Captain, are you serious? It's insane enough that you're bringing this chit with us. Don't risk the ship and cargo for an old woman.” He scowled at Lian, wishing he had never seen her. “I'll explain to her.”

“How can you explain that I'm breaking the first promise I've made to her?” He pointed to where Lian was standing on tiptoe to look into the jolly boat hanging by the rail. “If I refuse, she'll try to row back to Canton.”

Bryce was about to tell him to let her go when lightning flashed off her hair. She had been as fiery as in his arms. Her mouth had been willing and sweet, her body waiting for him to explore each curve. When she had moved beneath him, a powerful craving had captured him. He wanted this woman who was part child and part temptress.

As thunder rumbled, Davis slapped him on the arm. “Come on, Bryce. If we go back now, we can still sail at dawn.”

“This is insane.”

“Does that mean you're not coming?”

“No, it just means that I'm as deranged as you are.”

Lian turned as Davis came toward her. She was grateful her brother was Davis Catherwood instead of Bryce Trevarian. “Older Brother—”

“Come with me, Lian. I'll take you to a safe place while we go to Canton.”

“You are going to get my mother?”

His smile broadened. “Of course. A Catherwood never goes back on his—or her—word. Remember that, little sister.” He turned to his first mate. “Speak to the crew. I don't want her to have any problems while we are gone.”

Lian drew the coat to her chin as Bryce drawled, “Smartest thing to do, Captain, would be to get her some decent clothes. You couldn't blame the crew for getting ideas when she's dressed like that.”

“When we get back, I will find her something. Someone must be bringing a
ch 'eÅ­ng shaam
home.” Holding out his hand, he said, “Come with me, little sister.”

Again she slipped her hand in his. It startled her how differently the two men's touch affected her. Davis offered comfort, Bryce danger.

She kept her eyes lowered to hide her thoughts as they walked down a set of stairs. She gripped the rope railing. She could not imitate his steps which matched the ship's motion. Rocking back and forth, she breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the bottom. Peculiar odors assaulted her along with the familiar aroma of tea.

Davis stopped before a closed door. “These are my quarters, Lian. You'll be safe here.”

“I understand,” she whispered.

When he opened the door, she followed him inside. If only there were something to remind her of home.… He brushed past her to light a lamp over the table. The strange furniture resembled what she had seen in the tavern. Books were stacked neatly on a table beneath the narrow window.

Davis pointed at a mattress set on a platform with drawers under it. “If you want to sleep, Lian, use my bed.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, wondering how she could fall asleep when she might roll off that high bed.

“Are you hungry?”

She hesitated, then answered, “Yes.”

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he smiled. “I know you don't have any reason to trust me, but you must.”

“I trust you, Davis.” As she spoke, she realized it was with honesty. He had risked his life for her. Slowly her hand rose to touch his blond hair.

With a smile, he picked up a strand of her waist-length hair and held it to his. “Not the same, but our father's blood beats within both of us.” He patted her cheek. “Tell me where your mother lives and her name.”

Quickly Lian gave him the information he needed. When the door closed behind him to leave her with the creak of the ship, she did not move. She was alive and safe, safe as she had never been. She whispered another prayer of gratitude to Mother's Father who must have sent her brother.

She bent to peer at her foot. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound had to be cleaned. Another flash of lightning lit the room, and she saw a bowl on the floor. Hobbling to it, she sniffed. Water. She stuck one end of the drape in it and tried to bathe her foot.

The material bunched under the trousers. Rising, she tried to untie the rope holding the trousers. She cursed when she scratched her finger on the rough rope.

The door opened. Lian met the wide eyes of a man framed in the doorway. He was not tall for an American. As her startled gaze met his faded blue eyes, she bowed. Silver, thinning hair was draped over his balding skull, so this man deserved respect shown to all elders.

“Who are you?” he asked as he placed a tray on the table. He repeated the question in stilted Cantonese.

Unsure which language to use, she whispered in English, “I am Lian.”

“Lian?” With a chuckle, he sat on the bed. Clasping his gnarled hands around his knee, he urged, “Straighten up, girl. You make my old back ache to see you bent like that.” His eyes narrowed. “It's not like the captain to bring a Chinese doxy home.”

“I do not know what doxy means.”

His laugh reminded her of the wind blowing beneath the straw roof of Mother's house. “I'm sure you know other similar words, but answer my question, girl. What are you doing here?”

“I am going home with my brother.”

“Brother?”

“Davis.” Pride crept into her voice.

“You're the captain's sister?” Again he chortled. “The old captain is going to have quite a surprise.” Suddenly his blue-gray eyes widened. “How old are you, girl?”

“Nineteen years.”

He rubbed his chin. “Nineteen? Then it's impossible.”

“What is impossible?”

He demanded sharply, “Is it proper for a mere girl to question her elders?”

Although curiosity taunted her, she bowed and asked his forgiveness. He was standing when she looked up again. As he went to the door, he regarded her with candid amusement. “By the way, girl, my name is Chester Simmons. If you need anything, just let me know. You shall find many things won't be as you expect.”

Lian smiled. Her first impression of him as cold vanished. She was glad he was not like the arrogant Bryce—no, Lieutenant Trevarian was what she must call him. She whispered her gratitude.

“It's nothing,” he growled, then chuckled. “You are going to shake up things.” He closed the door.

Lian stared at the queer food on the tray. It was thick with gravy. Cautiously she dipped her finger in a golden liquid. She smiled. Chicken soup, although without the thin noodles Mother used.

She peered at the tray. There were no chopsticks, but she saw a spoon next to a knife and another metal thing she did not recognize. She ate quickly, then realized her foolishness. Sickness ebbed and flowed in her as the ship did under her feet. Wrapping her arms around herself, she reeled toward the bed. She sat, fighting her nausea and the irrational desire to weep.

She wanted to go home, to the hut near Hog Lane. America was too far away. Two tears ran along her cheeks, for her home was gone forever.

Shouts woke Lian. In horror, she looked around. Where was she? When she clutched the blanket, she looked at it in shock. This was not her threadbare coverlet, but thick wool. She was on the
China Shadow
. Pushing herself to her feet, she almost collapsed. The rhythm of the ship had changed. The storm must be churning the water.

Bouncing off the furniture, then the wall, she tried to reach the door. The loud voices came closer. Had they found Mother? The door erupted open. Men clogged the corridor.

“Step aside!” came a shout. Lieutenant Trevarian!

A scream burst from her throat before she could clamp her hands over her mouth. Lieutenant Trevarian and another man were carrying Davis. Blood soaked the front of her brother's shirt. Neither man looked at her as they lifted him onto the bed.

“What happened?” she cried.

The man with Lieutenant Trevarian bumped into her. Giving her a fierce glower, he rushed out.

“Davis!” she cried as she saw her brother's colorless face.

“Be silent,” snarled Lieutenant Trevarian as he shoved the door closed and her out of the way in the same motion.

“Is he dead?” she whispered.

“Not yet!”

She recoiled from the venom in his voice. When he reached for the buttons on Davis's bloodstained shirt, she grasped the bowl of water. Lieutenant Trevarian swung around. She leapt back. Water splashed on his trousers.

“What in hell are you doing?” His voice was low and his lips taut.

“You must clean the wound. You must—”

“Get away!” He grabbed the bowl and put it on the table. “Stay out of my way, you little fool. Do you understand me?”

“I understand, but, Lieu—Lieu—” She hesitated, for his name was so difficult to speak. “Let me help.”

He raised his hand. Scurrying back, she clung to the opposite wall, then realized he had been reaching to tilt the lamp. Her foot hit something. The thousand stories box! She held it to her chest. Where was Mother? Had she been hurt, too?

Davis groaned, and she put the box on the table. Lights flickered over her hands. She turned. Whampoa was fading into the distance.

“Lieutenant Trev—Lieu—We are sailing away!” she cried.

Bryce ignored Lian as he loosened his captain's shirt. He swore fiercely when he saw Davis had been hit in the gut. His captain was doomed. Rage rushed through him as he cursed the Chinese, especially the woman whose blue eyes had lured them into tonight's madness.

Resisting the temptation to snarl at her, he grabbed a handkerchief off the shelf over the bed. He dipped it in the water and tried to ease the crusted shirt from his captain's chest until Davis moaned.

This should not have happened. A worthless wench, a ridiculous lie—now his captain was dying. Bryce should have known better, but he had underestimated the whore-master's determination to regain the honor stolen by two foreign devils and a girl half his size. Foolishly, he and Davis had been sure they would be safe among the crowd in Hog Lane. Only the poor shooting of Sun Niang's bully boys by Ch'en Mei's hut had prevented more of the men from the
China Shadow
from being hit.

His lips tightened. Both of his shots had found their targets, but, with the captain wounded, they had retreated. Huge bribes had bought silence from the crew on the junk which had brought them to the
China Shadow
. As he had carried Davis here, Bryce had given the order to sail.

Without turning, Bryce asked, “Are you squeamish, Lian?”

“No,” she said, answering in Cantonese.

“Good. Come here.” When she inched toward him, he grasped her arm and pulled her closer. “Faith, woman, I don't bite. Keep a cloth in his mouth while I try to get the ball out of him. If we don't give him something to clamp on, he might bite off his own tongue.”

Lian nodded and wrung out the cloth. The water had become a rusty shade. Her brother's blood—the blood she shared with him. Putting the cloth in his mouth, she nodded when Lieutenant Trevarian asked her if she was ready. It was a lie. She did not want to think of Davis's anguish.

“Dammit!” Bryce shook his bloody fingers.

“Did you get the bullet?” she whispered, trying not to gag.

He glared at her, then returned to his gruesome task. When he demanded the bowl of water, she held it out. He left red clouds staining the water. There was no sign of the battered piece of lead.

“You cannot get it?” she asked.

“No.”

A pang cut through her. For him to admit failure must be doubly painful. “Do you want me to try? My fingers are smaller.”

“You would do that?”

“Davis is my brother.”

“Maybe.”

“He thinks so.” She gave him an icy glare. “Step aside. Let me try to find—”

“I found it, Lian. It's deep in his gut. To move it would mean killing him now.”

She lowered her eyes as tears filled them. “And if we leave it?”