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The Captain's Pearl

Page 5

by Jo Ann Ferguson


  “Lieu—”

  “Just Bryce for now. I’m tired of you trying to say my name correctly.” He laughed quietly. “Not that you have yet.”

  “It is a queer name.”

  Again he laughed. “It’s queer only to a half-breed Chinese woman, blue eyes. Trevarian is a good Cornish name.”

  “Cornish?”

  “Cornwall. A part of England.”

  In a whisper, she asked, “How is Davis?”

  “He is still alive. Barely.”

  His grief brought her eyes open again. Her fingers stroked his rough cheek. She wanted to offer him comfort and help him believe there might be a miracle.

  His mustache tilted in a weary smile. “I’m afraid there’s no relief for you, blue eyes, except becoming accustomed to the ship’s motion.”

  “I cannot.” Tightness cramped her stomach.

  With a short laugh, he stood. “You’ll have to. It is going to take months to reach Massachusetts.”

  “Bryce, I—” Looking past his broad shoulder as she heard a moan, she forgot her own anguish.

  “He has not regained consciousness.” Bryce sighed. “Maybe it is for the best.”

  As he went to the bed, she thought of a dozen questions she wanted to ask. Her mind refused to work as it drew her into sleep. She knew Bryce would be watching over Davis and—reluctantly—her.

  The groan was filled with pain. Lian fought the sickness and rose. She could see nothing through the darkness, but she recognized the sound. Davis.

  She took a single step and fell to the floor. It pitched like something in as much agony as she was. Another moan urged her to her knees. Somehow she crawled to her brother’s bed.

  “Davis?” she whispered, holding her hand close to her mouth. At any moment, her stomach might explode again. Leaning on the bed, she looked up at him. His face had the grayish tinge of death.

  His eyes opened and slowly focused. “Lian. Little sister.” He added nothing else, as if the few words had drained him.

  For the first time, she wondered how old he was. She guessed near thirty, which seemed ancient. “How do you feel?” she murmured.

  “Like hell.” He winced as he turned his head. His brow rutted. “As bad as you look, little sister. What’s wrong with you?”

  “She’s seasick,” came Bryce’s voice from behind her.

  Before Lian could react, he picked her up and dropped her on the pallet. She could not snarl an insult at Bryce when sickness rocked her.

  “Stay there,” he ordered. “I’ll tend to the captain.”

  “You were not here!” she shot back.

  “I am now.”

  When she offered to help, Bryce started to refuse. He was interrupted by Davis’s pain-thinned voice. “Don’t deny me my last hours with my sister, Bryce. Lian, come here, if you wish.”

  Fighting the temptation to flash Bryce a victorious smile, she tried to stand. With a thump, she fell. Bryce held out his hand and brought her to her feet.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, as she knelt by her brother’s bed again.

  “Am I that unusual?” Davis asked, with a hint of a grin. “You’re staring as if I were a creature from the stars.”

  Placing her trembling fingertips on the mattress, she did not dare to touch him. Anything might add to his agony. She was aware of Bryce standing behind her, ready to pounce on her if she did something wrong. “I am not accustomed to looking at eyes like my own.”

  “Father has blue eyes as well. A Catherwood trait. How they will love you!”

  “Really?” Hearing a grumble, she knew Bryce did not want her questioning his captain.

  Davis’s glazed eyes held hers. “Father has spoken often of my other sister, who died at birth along with my mother. He will be thrilled to learn that his line won’t come to an end.”

  “Davis, don’t—” Bryce’s heavy hand on her shoulder silenced her. She saw his lips were pursed beneath his mustache.

  Weakly, Davis ordered, “Bryce, stop intimidating her. You speak your mind to me. Why shouldn’t Lian?”

  “I’m sorry, Captain.”

  Lian saw fury flash in his eyes. The familiar shudder cramped along her. Bryce Trevarian would be a formidable enemy. Without her brother to protect her …

  “What were you going to say, little sister?” Davis whispered.

  She lifted his cold hand. She had seen death many times and recognized the hollow-eyed resignation in her brother’s eyes. “Ngoi oy nee.”

  “I love you, too, little sister. We have found each other just in time to be parted again.”

  “We shall be together longer in the next world.” Hearing a breathy curse, she did not look at Bryce. Let him be angry at her. She owed her brother honesty.

  “I wish I could see Father’s face when he meets you.”

  “I shall tell you of it when next we meet.”

  A laugh nearly sapped him. He had to take several deep breaths before he could murmur, “I’m sure you will. Lian, promise me one thing.”

  “Yes.”

  “America will be strange to you. You need someone to take care of you.” Each word was punctured by a rasp. “Bryce is watching over the ship. Let him watch over you, too.”

  She glanced back. When Bryce’s eyes met hers, sorrow clamped around her chest, stopping her heart for one anguished beat. The torture of watching her brother die was diminished by Bryce’s agony, for he was unable to help his friend.

  When she did not reply, Davis whispered, “Will you heed Bryce as you would me?”

  “Yes.” She wondered if Davis realized what she was pledging. She would have to submit her will to Bryce’s. She glanced again at Bryce. The curl of his lip into a smile warned that he knew exactly what she vowed.

  “Take as good care of Lian as you will the China Shadow,” Davis continued, but to his friend.

  “I promise, Captain,” Bryce said. “I shall see her safely home to your father. You can depend on me.”

  “I know I can.”

  Bryce lifted Lian’s fingers out of her brother’s suddenly lax grip. He enfolded them between his hands which were as cold as Davis’s. Her eyes blurred as she looked from her brother’s face to his first mate’s grim expression.

  “He’s gone,” Bryce murmured.

  “No!”

  “Dammit, you little fool! You can’t halt death!” Recoiling from his rage, Lian took a deep breath. She rose and slowly drew Davis’s eyelids down. Pressing her hands together, she whispered a prayer. Bryce reached past her and lifted the bloodstained blanket over her brother’s face.

  When Bryce turned her toward the door, she shook her head. “He must not be alone. We must—”

  “You know nothing about what we must do.”

  “He is my brother.”

  “Maybe.”

  “He believed so.”

  With a curse, he herded her out into the narrow corridor. He spoke to the men waiting there and their faces paled. When they began to talk—all at once—she edged back toward Davis’s quarters. She must be with her brother. Her prayers would guide him to Mother’s Father in the next world.

  Bryce caught her arm. Reaching past her, he opened the door to the room across from Davis’s. He pulled her inside and, closing the door, scowled. “If you stick your nose out of this room, you little fool, I will make you wish you had never heard the name Catherwood.”

  “I wish I never had!” Tears flooded her eyes, blurring his hard face. She stared at the window that was the twin to the one in Davis’s quarters. Davis! He had believed Mother when he had no reason to and had given his life for a sister he had not known a week ago. Such a good man was dead because of a promise he had not broken.

  When broad hands framed her face, she did not resist as she was turned to Bryce. His fury had vanished, leaving only the pain. He tipped her cheek to graze it with his lips. Her breath caught on her serrated grief.

  “I am sorry,” she whispered.

  “For lying to me?”


  “It was no lie. I wish I had never met Davis. If I had not, he would not be dead now.”

  “He would not have died uselessly.”

  She jerked away. His face grew hard again as she snapped, “He did not die uselessly! He honored his promise to me. Do not belittle that because you would not do the same!”

  “I have never broken a promise.” He grasped her shoulders and tugged her to him. “I shall not forget the one I made to the captain or the one you made to me, blue eyes.”

  “I made you no promise.”

  He gripped her chin. “You promised to do whatever I wished to repay me for rescuing you.”

  “I am obligated to do as you wish.” She tensed. How could he think of bedding her when her brother was dead only a few feet away?

  “Look at me, blue eyes,” he whispered.

  She forced her eyes open. He was not wearing a superior smile. Instead his face was an empty mask, showing he was determined to govern his grief.

  “I ask you to fulfill that obligation to me by fulfilling the pledge Davis asked of you.” He took her hand.

  “To let you take his place as my older brother until I reach my father’s home?”

  “Yes.”

  “You did not need to ask that. I promised Davis.”

  “I know, but you may not realize, blue eyes, how difficult that vow will be to keep.” He pressed his lips to her neck above her ch ’eŭng shaam.

  A stream of fire washed over her, melting her to him. Her fingers rose to twist through his hair as his mouth coursed along her, seeking her lips. He crushed her to his chest. When his mouth captured hers, she tasted his desperation—desperation to satisfy this craving, desperation to discover pleasure, desperation to forget the pain of loss …

  With a soft cry, Lian pulled herself out of his arms. She wobbled to where a single chair was set beneath the window. She gripped it. “You gave Davis your word, too. I thought you said you never broke a promise.”

  “I don’t intend to.” His slow smile taunted her. “I just want you to understand what will happen if you fail to honor your pledge. If I am not your surrogate brother—”

  Bowing, she let sarcasm cover her fury at how easily he had manipulated her once again. “As you wish, Older Brother, so shall it be.”

  As she straightened, he shook his head. “I wish we had left you in that brothel. You’re so coldhearted, you would have been a good whore.” He opened the door and strode out.

  She hid her face in her hands as she dropped to her knees. Deep sobs burst from her. Rocking back and forth, she wept for every dream that had died with Davis today.

  Tropical sun seared Lian’s hair, but she shivered with the cold inside her. Standing in silence, she watched as the sailors prepared for her brother’s burial in the sea. Her brother’s spirit would have to seek beneath the waves for his body, if he returned to this world. She tried not to stare at the corpse which was set on a plank near the railing. These Yang Kuei-tzŭ were barbaric!

  Bryce walked toward her. With his hands clasped behind his back, he said, “You shall remain silent through this. I don’t wish to hear any Chinese caterwauling. Davis Catherwood was a man of dignity. I intend for him to have dignity in death.”

  She stared in astonishment. She would not do anything to ruin her brother’s funeral. “Bryce—”

  “You should call me ‘Captain,’” he replied in the same cold tone. “I have assumed command of this ship.”

  Her back stiffened as she met his eyes. “You need not worry. I shall not shame Davis.”

  When he took her arm, eyes of the other men followed. Their loose clothes billowed in the same stiffbreeze which twisted her hair in a macabre dance. Pushing the dark strands from her face, her eyes locked with the man she remembered was named Simmons. She bumped into Lieutenant—Captain Trevarian, as she met Simmons’s grim expression.

  “Watch where you are going!” Captain Trevarian ordered. “You’re incredibly clumsy for a Catherwood, blue eyes.”

  Pulling away as far as she could while he continued to hold her arm, she murmured, “Excuse me.”

  “Save your excuses for when I care to listen.”

  Only her promise to Davis kept her from retorting as Captain Trevarian read the short service. Tears pressed against her eyes, but she would not cry again and dishonor her brother’s memory with her weakness before these strangers.

  When the railing was opened, and the body dropped into the waves, she gasped. How could they send Davis into the sea with only the clothes he had been wearing? A man as powerful and wealthy as her brother should have his favored belongings to give him pleasure in the next life.

  She whirled. She thought she heard Captain Trevarian calling to her, but she ran to Davis’s cabin. She swept his possessions from a shelf onto his bed. Quickly she selected the heaviest ones. They would sink to his body.

  Struggling to stay on her feet, she ran to the rear of the ship. Waves sprayed salt into her eyes. She shouted a blessing into the wind and called Davis’s name. She was spun away from the railing.

  Captain Trevarian stripped Davis’s possessions from her fingers. “You little fool!” Not giving her a chance to answer, he called, “Willis!”

  A sailor came running.

  “Take those to my cabin,” he ordered, as he motioned to the items on the deck.

  “Cabin? Which one, sir?”

  Bryce looked at Lian who was glaring at him with those bewitching blue eyes. If he left her to her own devices, she would cause more trouble. She was too smart. The women he had dealt with in China had been whores who thought only of the gold they could get in exchange for a few minutes’ pleasure. Lian dared him to challenge her as she had challenged him since they had met.

  “I’ll be using the captain’s cabin,” Bryce replied. As Willis left to follow his orders, Bryce gripped Lian’s arm more tightly. “Come with me. It’s time you understood a few things.

  “I understand you are a beast! How could you stop me from giving my brother—”

  “Silence. Or are you forgetting your promise to your brother already?”

  When she blinked back tears, he resisted the irrational urge to draw her into his arms and comfort her. He could not. Then he might find himself forgetting that he had to get the China Shadow back to Massachusetts at top speed. There was no time to dally and savor her luscious kisses.

  When Lian hesitated outside the door of Davis’s quarters, Captain Trevarian pushed her through. “Scared of ghosts, blue eyes?”

  “Why should I be frightened of my own brother?”

  “Sit!”

  She lowered herself to the very edge of the room’s only chair.

  “I know all about your heathen traditions,” he went on. “What you don’t realize is that, if you had thrown our navigational tools over the side, we could have spent the rest of our lives wandering the Pacific.”

  “I do not—I do not understand.”

  “I realize that. Did you ever consider asking me first?”

  “They are my brother’s possessions.”

  He smiled grimly. “No, blue eyes, they are mine. Just like the China Shadow is mine. Your brother gave them to me with his last breath.” He opened a bottle and poured rum into a cup. Taking a slow drink, he muttered, “I can’t imagine what Davis was thinking when he decided to bring you back to Stormhaven.”

  “Stormhaven?”

  “Stormhaven, Massachusetts. Your new home. It should be interesting to see what a mess you make of that life. You sure as hell have made a mess out of this one.”

  Rising, she said, “You have no compassion for me.”

  “Why should I have compassion for you?”

  “I have lost my brother. I have no idea if my mother is alive or dead. And you are a …” She flushed as she recalled she must treat him as an esteemed, older brother. Dropping to the chair, she stared at the floor.

  His finger brought her chin up. “I was beginning to wonder if that fire in your eyes went any
deeper. You may prove me wrong, after all.”

  “Prove you wrong? How?”

  “The Catherwoods are renowned for their fiery tempers.” He tapped her nose and laughed. “I should have guessed you would inherit the worst from both sides of your family.”

  “And you, captain? Did you inherit your beastly behavior from the one who sired you or the creature that whelped you?”

  With a chuckle, he cupped her chin in his broad hand. “Remember, Lian, I’m captain of this ship. If I choose to toss you overboard, no man will tell me nay.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Wouldn’t I?” His laugh remained behind, as he slammed the door and shut her in the room with the horror she feared was only beginning.

  Six

  Through the rain, Lian stared at the strange buildings. Painted in a variety of colors, although most were white, they rose two or three stories high like a temple. Dozens of windows stared at her, making her curious as to why these people wanted to spy on each other. Some buildings had fences around them which seemed to serve no purpose, for the gate at the front was wide open. Without the graceful, curved eaves she was accustomed to, the roofs seemed pallid.

  “What are they?” she asked.

  “What are what?”

  Hearing impatience in Captain Trevarian’s voice, she glanced at him before looking out the window of the carriage again. “What are these buildings?”

  “In English,” he insisted.

  She frowned. During the long months of their voyage, he had spoken to her in Cantonese. If he had helped her practice English, she would be better prepared now to meet her father. Framing the question in her mind, she struggled to keep her words free of an accent, as Mother had taught. “What are those buildings?”

  “Homes.”

  “Homes?” she repeated.

  “You don’t know the word? It means—”

  “I know what a home is. It is where people live. They look different from those in Canton.”

  “You’ll find most things in Stormhaven very different. After all, we don’t live in mud-floored hovels.” He laughed as he leaned back on the plush seat of the carriage that had been waiting when the China Shadow docked.

 

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