Moonflower Madness

by Margaret Pemberton

  ‘I do love China,’ she said suddenly with deep passion.

  He looked across at her with the flashing grin that so dramatically transformed his hard-boned features. ‘This is a side of China very few Europeans see. They crowd the bund at Shanghai and the Legations in Peking, but they very rarely venture out into the true China.’

  ‘They’re too frightened of bandits,’ Gianetta said, remembering the conversations she had heard between her aunt and uncle and their European guests.

  ‘And you’re not?’ Again the eyebrow was quirked.

  She eased Ben around a low-lying rosebush drowning in pale pink petals. ‘Not enough to forgo seeing all this.’

  In the far distance, mountains rose silver-grey, silver-green, silver-tawny. A kite wheeled high in the sky above their heads. From an unseen and isolated pagoda, there came the faint tinkle of bells.

  As he continued to look at her, Zachary’s grin faded. Although dark, vibrant, exotic good looks had never previously been to his taste, he had to admit that the words he had so inadvertently uttered the previous evening were true. Gianetta was very, very beautiful. And devastatingly likeable.

  He dragged his eyes away from her, trying to continue with his task of observing the flowers around them. With a slight frown, he found himself remembering the incident that had taken place between Gianetta and Charles. Charles had most certainly been kissing her and she had just as certainly been making no effort at resistance, or at least she hadn’t done so until she had heard his own approach.

  He had been filled with cold anger at the time, and a quite surprising degree of disappointment. Anger because of the disruption her arrival and behaviour were causing to his expedition and disappointment both at Charles’ irresponsibility and her shamelessness.

  He had known, of course, what had prompted her to behave in such an unlikely manner. She was a single young lady with no immediate family and her prospects were grim. She was facing return to England and the choice of living with Serena and her husband or alone, apart from servants, in the Hollis family mansion. It wasn’t much of a choice and he could quite well see how attractive Charles, as a potential husband, must have seemed to her. And in order to snare him as a husband she had acted with quite breathtaking audacity.

  His frown deepened. The devil of it was, taking her own unquestionable attractions into account and Charles’ easy-going and susceptible nature, it could quite easily have worked. Once she had amorously compromised him or, more to the point, allowed him to compromise herself, there would have been every chance of her uncle succeeding in coercing him to marry her.

  It was disturbingly easy to visualise her as Lady Rendlesham. And surprisingly unpleasant. Charles was, for all his admirable qualities, quite simply not worthy of her. For the first time the question edged into his mind whether he, himself, would not be a far more suitable candidate.

  Zachary’s first reaction was to be amused by the ridiculousness of such a thought. His second reaction was stunned surprise at the realization that it wasn’t ridiculous at all. Gianetta had effected a state of almost permanent sexual arousal in him ever since she had walked into camp after her bathe in the Kialing looking like a water-naiad. As he remembered, desire pulsed through him. There were worse fates in life than marriage to a woman who aroused such reactions, and who was both intelligent and entertaining into the bargain.

  And Serena? Serena was probably by now Mrs Henry Plaxtol and, even if she were not, Serena was an unknown quantity. All he knew of her was the feelings the sight of her had aroused. Even if she had not been affianced he had no way of knowing whether, on further acquaintance, her personality and character would have proved to be as he had imagined they would be.

  As Zachary continued to brood on the surprising direction of his thoughts, Gianetta rode in silence at his side, equally preoccupied.

  She had been premature in assuming there was no alternative for her but to agree to his decision that she return to Chung King accompanied by one of the Peng missionaries. He didn’t truly want her to return to Chung King. In the days and nights that they had been together he had become used to her. Despite his often curt and abrupt manner she was sure that he liked her almost as much as she liked him. And so she would take matters into her own hands. When they reached Peng she would seek out and engage a Chinese woman to act as a chaperone. She would be able to help with cooking tasks, and with a little instruction would probably be a great help in changing the botanical drying papers. Her presence in the camp would make it impossible for Zachary to claim that it was her own sexual vulnerability, as a lone woman, that made their continuing any further together impossible.

  She leaned forward in her saddle, patting Ben’s neck. ‘It’s going to be all right,’ she whispered confidently. ‘We’re not going back to Chung King. I know we’re not.’

  At lunchtime they picknicked companionably amongst the wild roses and yellow barberry. Afterwards, when they resumed their journey, they did so at a slightly brisker pace. As the first hints of dusk began to smoke the air, Zachary said, with surprise, ‘Good Lord! There’s Peng ahead of us, I must have been alarmingly out in my calculations.’

  Gianetta looked in the direction towards which he was pointing. Through the late afternoon heat-haze, a red-roofed tower and high stone walls were clearly visible. A flare of excitement spiralled through her. She hadn’t the faintest idea of how to go about engaging a chaperone, and she knew that she would have very little time in which to do it. For the last few miles, she had been wondering whether she should announce her intention to Zachary or wait until the arrangements were made. After much indecision, she had decided that it would be wiser to wait.

  ‘All I have to do is to be firm,’ she had said beneath her breath to Ben, ‘I must simply refuse absolutely to return to Chung King, and persuade Zachary that a chaperone makes my return totally unnecessary.’

  ‘The mission is on the south side of the town, outside the walls. We should be there within half and hour or so,’ Zachary said, breaking in on her thoughts.

  His voice sounded rather odd, as if he were annoyed by their unexpectedly swift arrival. She didn’t answer him. She was too busy making plans. If the mission was on the south side of Peng, it meant she would have to make some excuse for riding alone into the town itself. Where would be the best place to locate and engage at suitably middle-aged, respectable Chinese matron? The missionaries would know, but she wasn’t sure whether, under the circumstances, they would be helpful or not.

  ‘There it is,’ Zachary said suddenly. ‘A little piece of England, a world away from home.’

  They had rounded a tree-shaded corner. In front of them, fifty yards or so from the shingled bank of the river, lay a low, white, clapboard house with a surrounding verandah. A large area around it had been cultivated as if it were an English garden, and Gianetta could see the pinks and purples of carefully tended foxgloves, and the blue of canterbury bells.

  A gentleman in European dress was seated on the verandah, enjoying an early evening drink. He was presumably one of the missionaries, and as they cantered nearer Gianetta saw with amusement that his white suit was as formal as if he were a consul or an ambassador.

  Zachary frowned, barely noticing the figure now rising to greet them. He had never before felt so undecided. Was he making a mistake in insisting that Gianetta be escorted back to Chung King? Was there an alternative?

  The white-suited figure began to descend the verandah steps, stepping out of the shade into the still clear light. As he did so, Gianetta’s eyes widened in incredulity.

  ‘Oh no!’ she whispered, her hands tightening on Ben’s reins, sick apprehension flooding through her. ‘It can’t be! It isn’t possible!’

  Almost in the same instant Zachary also recognised the figure approaching them. With a disbelieving blasphemy he reined in, his face tightening, a pulse beginning to throb at the corner of his jaw.

  Sir Arthur Hollis strode towards them, fury and hostility in every lin
e of his body.

  Hardly able to believe that he was real, Gianetta slid from Ben’s back.

  ‘Uncle Arthur! What are you doing here? I’d no idea … If it’s because of me there was no need …’

  ‘Of course there was need,’ her uncle snapped viciously, ‘You’ve destroyed your reputation! You’ve brought shame onto every member of your family! How we are to hold our heads high again, God only knows!’

  A few feet away from them, Zachary dismounted.

  Sir Arthur spun towards him. ‘As for you, Cartwright! I hold you ultimately responsible! You should have escorted my niece back to Chung King the instant she caught up with you! You’ve behaved monstrously and restitution will have to be made!’

  ‘Just what kind of restitution did you have in mind, Sir Arthur?’ Zachary asked him, his voice dangerously quiet.

  Sir Arthur breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring. ‘There is only one kind that is possible in this situation. An Anglican priest is in residence at the mission. I have arranged that a marriage should take place between the two of you at the soonest possible moment.’

  Chapter Eight

  Gianetta swayed dizzily. It seemed impossible to her that the scene now taking place was real and not a hideous nightmare. How could her uncle have known that Zachary would call at the mission house at Peng? How could he have been so sure that he could be able to waylay them? To have reached the mission before them, he must have travelled by boat up the Kialing, yet during the many hours that she and Zachary had ridden along or near to the Kialing’s banks they had seen no boat flying a Union Jack.

  She wound her fingers tightly into Ben’s mane. It was bad enough that her uncle was here at all, without the further humiliation of his demanding that Zachary should immediately marry her. Almost before he had finished speaking, she attempted to protest, but her mouth was so dry that no words would come.

  Zachary was not similarly hampered. To her incredulity he was neither furiously angry nor coldly contemptuous. Instead he said laconically,

  ‘Then you have been wasting the gentleman’s time. I have not the slightest intention of marrying your niece.’

  ‘You have no option!’ Sir Arthur expostulated, frothing at the mouth. ‘You have lured my niece into a liaison that has robbed her of the last vestige of honour! You have compromised her utterly and absolutely! You have …’

  ‘I have done nothing of the kind,’ Zachary replied indifferently, taking hold of Bucephalus’s reins and beginning to walk with him towards the mission.

  At this affront to his dignity Sir Arthur gasped wordlessly for air and then rallying himself, spun on his heel, striding after him.

  ‘How dare you turn your back on me, Cartwright! Twenty years ago I would have called you out for such an insult!’

  ‘Pistols at twenty paces?’ Zachary asked in mild amusement, looking across at him but not halting in his easy stride. ‘It could be arranged, if it would give you satisfaction.’

  ‘Damn you for your impudence, Cartwright! What will give me satisfaction is a marriage! Only a blackguard would refuse to act honourably in such a situation!’

  They had reached the foot of the verandah steps. An elderly, gaunt gentleman in clerical dress had walked out onto the verandah to meet them; a Chinese stable-boy had hurried round from the rear of the mission and was waiting to relieve them of their mounts.

  Zachary handed Bucephalus over to him and turned towards his raging adversary. ‘Then in that case I am quite obviously a blackguard,’ he said indifferently.

  ‘Of the deepest dye!’ Sir Arthur riposted, his face white, his knuckles clenched. ‘I will see that you are ruined, Cartwright! I will see that the doors of polite society are closed against you! I will see to it that you are never again given a commission by Kew or the Royal Horticultural Society or the Royal Geographical Society or any other Society!’

  The white-headed figure in clerical garb at the head of the steps cleared his throat uncomfortably, but neither Zachary or Sir Arther took the slightest notice of him.

  With one foot on the bottom tread of the verandah-steps and his hand and his weight resting on the hand-rail, Zachary continued to face Sir Arthur.

  ‘Such a course of action would – be most unwise,’ he said, and despite the nonchalance of his stance his eyes had narrowed and a hint of menace had entered his voice.

  ‘Don’t try and threaten me!’ Sir Arthur spat at him, freshly affronted. ‘Whatever high ideas your friendship with young Rendlesham may have given you, you’re a nobody! You can’t harm me, Cartwright, but I can damn well ruin you!’

  ‘Sir Arthur …’ the cleric at the head of the steps intervened, deeply shocked. ‘I think perhaps it would be wisest if …’

  ‘I would take great exception at having my career ruined for no reason other than a refusal to be entrapped into marriage,’ Zachary said tightly, ignoring the attempted interruption.

  ‘Entrapped! Entrapped! No-one has entrapped you, Cartwright! You’ve entrapped yourself by behaving like the worst kind of scoundrel!’

  ‘I disagree. Very far from behaving like a scoundrel I have behaved, much to my surprise, as a gentleman. Your niece, possibly with your connivance, attempted first to compromise Lord Rendlesham and then, Lord Rendlesham’s arm injury rendering it necessary for him to return to Chung King before enough time had elapsed for her to succeed in her efforts, she turned her attentions to me.’

  For the first time since Sir Arthur had accosted him, Zachary looked across at Gianetta.

  She was still standing where she had dismounted, too far away to hear the conversation now taking place. As their eyes met his face tightened, a pulse beginning to beat at the corner of his jaw.

  ‘Whether or not she knew that you would be here to bring her scheme to fruition, I have no way of knowing,’ he continued, keeping his voice indifferent only with the greatest difficulty, ‘but I am beginning to strongly suspect that this meeting was most carefully pre-arranged.’

  As Zachary’s eyes met hers, Gianetta’s anger and mortification deepened. How dare her uncle have assumed that Zachary had robbed her of her honour? How could he have been so shameless and vulgar as to hurl such an accusation at him without waiting for an explanation of what had, and had not, passed between Zachary and herself? Trying hard not to think of the very definite way in which Zachary had repudiated the demand that he marry her, she began to lead Ben towards the verandah-steps.

  Sir Arthur was staring at Zachary as if Zachary had taken leave of his senses.

  ‘Connived at? Pre-arranged? I haven’t the least idea what you’re talking about! You lure my niece into the wilds of China! You seduce and disgrace her …’

  There was an agonized, inarticulate protest from the figure standing impotently at the head of the steps.

  ‘… you scandalously cast her aside …’

  ‘For God’s sake, I’ve done no such thing!’ Zachary snapped, his apparent indifference vanishing and his very real anger flaring to the surface. ‘Your niece’s situation is such that she is in desperate need of a husband and a home of her own. She saw what she thought was an ideal way of securing both when Charles and myself visited the Residency. If she travelled after us and was several days alone in our company, she thought she could charm and compromise one of us into an offer of marriage.’

  ‘No!’

  This time the outraged protest was not from Sir Arthur’s deeply shocked host, but from Gianetta.

  Her eyes burned in her white, disbelieving face. ‘You can’t possibly believe such a thing! I travelled after you because I wanted to see China! Because I wanted to find blue Moonflowers …’

  ‘And if Charles hadn’t so fortuitously injured his arm and been obliged to return to Chung King, her plan might very well have succeeded,’ Zachary continued implacably, keeping his attention very firmly on Sir Arthur.

  ‘It isn’t true! I had no such designs …’

  ‘As for your claim that I have seduced her, your niece is as vi
rgo intacta as she presumably was the day she left the Residency.’

  Sir Arthur sucked in his breath, his eyes bulging. His host galvanised himself into movement, hurrying down the steps and inserting himself between Sir Arthur and Zachary as if fearing that the altercation was about to become physical.

  ‘That is enough, gentlemen!’ he said authoritatively. ‘That is quite enough! This conversation must come to an end before irreparable harm is done.’

  ‘There has already been irreparable harm done,’ Sir Arthur said savagely.

  Zachary merely shrugged, once again in control of his temper, once again affecting indifference.

  ‘If there has been, it has not been of my making,’ he said, turning his back on Sir Arthur he began to mount the steps two at a time.

  ‘Zachary,’ Gianetta’s voice was steady, drained of anger and disbelief, thick with a grief she couldn’t yet give vent to.

  Reluctantly he turned, looking down at her from the head of the steps, a pulse still throbbing at the corner of his jaw, his face shuttered and inexpressive.

  ‘Your assumptions are wrong,’ she said fiercely, her eyes holding his. ‘I never intended compromising either yourself or Charles. I never had any other motive other than the one I have just expressed.’

  For a moment she thought he was going to walk back down the steps towards her; he didn’t do so. Without a word he simply turned on his heel and entered the mission.

  ‘Unbelievable!’ Sir Arthur fumed. ‘Insufferable!’

  The clergyman ignored him. Gianetta’s face was so drained of blood that he thought it quite likely she was going to faint.

  ‘Would you like some tea?’ he asked her in concern.

  She nodded her head gratefully. The Chinese boy who had led Zachary’s pony around to the stables had returned, and she gave Ben a comforting pat and handed his reins over to him.