The Captain's Pearl

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The Captain's Pearl Page 8

by Jo Ann Ferguson


  “Are you sure it’s the China Shadow?”

  Rubbing the back of her hand against her freckled nose, Shellie whispered, “Hyett told me to tell you and to say that the captain wants you home right away. That’s all I know, Miss Lianne.”

  “Tell Father I’ll be back as soon as I can excuse myself here.”

  Lianne went back into the meeting room where the drone of Riva Charles’s monotone continued. Lianne did not look at the blond woman as she inched to the bench where Weston sat.

  “I have to go back to the house,” she murmured.

  Weston’s concerned gaze left the podium. “Is it the captain? Is he—?”

  “Father is fine.” She hesitated, not wanting to share the news with Weston until she was more sure of it … and her own reaction to it. “Business.”

  “I’ll take you home.”

  “No, no,” she retorted too hastily. When she saw his astonishment, she forced a false smile. She did not want him to think she was avoiding being alone with him after his attempt to seduce her on the way here. “Give my apologies to Riva.” She glanced at the woman waving her hands.

  “Shall I stop by after the meeting? We can—”

  “Not tonight, Weston. Come by tomorrow and help me finish plans for the ball on Saturday.” She gathered up her lace shawl and rushed out.

  Why now?

  Thinking of the memorial service Reverend Dover had led when the China Shadow was six months overdue, she shuddered. Where had the ship been? And who was returning home? Who was not? As she hurried along the dark road, she could not silence one thought. Bryce Trevarian might be returning.

  Lianne pushed aside that thought as she opened the front door. The house was in an uproar. When she left her shawl with Hyett, she asked, “Is Father in his room?”

  “Yes, Miss Lianne. Miss Tildy insisted he not overdo.”

  “Send up a bottle of Father’s best wine. It’s time for a celebration.”

  He nodded, his white hair fluttering.

  Calling her thanks over her shoulder, she raced up the stairs. The door to her father’s room opened just as she reached it.

  Great-Aunt Tildy came out. “Isn’t it grand, child? The Shadow Line’s reputation for never losing a ship remains untarnished.”

  Lianne hugged her great-aunt. “It’s wonderful!”

  Dropping to her knees by Father’s chair, she clasped his hand. Her smile dimmed when it quivered in hers. Although she wanted to believe the weakness was caused by excitement, she knew that was wistful thinking. Softly she whispered, “They’re coming home.”

  “So they are.” He stroked her hair. “Does that make you happy, child?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be happy to see the China Shadow return?”

  She was sure Father could read her thoughts when he asked, “And its captain?”

  “Do you think Captain Trevarian is still mastering her?”

  Father glanced toward the harbor. “Any ship lost this long needs a miracle to get home. I can think of no other man who could manage that miracle.”

  Rising, she went to the windows. Would Captain Bryce Trevarian really be returning? She had not seen him since he had left her lips afire with his kisses the day he brought her home. She had been at the school during his few visits since. Then he and the China Shadow had vanished. Now he might be coming home.

  “Lianne, will you go to my office and get the plans for the China Shadow?” her father asked. “I want to review them before she docks.”

  She kissed his cheek, then nodded. “I’ll get them right away.”

  He put his hand on her arm and smiled. “You’re a good daughter, Lianne.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I find the plans.”

  Again he halted her. When she regarded him, baffled, he added, “It does an old man good to have such a devoted daughter in his waning years. I know you would do anything I ask.”

  Trying to laugh away her unease with his odd words, she teased, “I won’t be able to get the plans if you keep talking.”

  “Go!” he ordered with a laugh.

  Lianne raced down the stairs. Quickly she discovered the ship’s plans were not with the others on the shelf. She should have asked Father where they might be.

  Hearing footsteps behind her, she did not look up as she paged through a folder. Hyett was the only other one who came in here. Before she could ask the butler if he knew where the plans might be, a deep voice said, “Here are the reports Captain Catherwood will want. I’ll—”

  Lianne turned slowly to meet the emerald eyes of the man standing in the doorway. Captain Bryce Trevarian’s strong jaw was concealed by a low mat of beard, but his broad shoulders still strained his salt-stained coat. She noticed all that in the second before she was captured by his compelling eyes.

  Carefully she placed the folder on the desk. “Good evening, Captain Trevarian. Father is upstairs, so I can take the report.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” He walked into the room. When he closed the door behind him, she started to protest. His laugh silenced her. “Have you changed into a puritanical New Englander, Lian?”

  “Lianne. My father prefers a more American sounding name.”

  “Does he?”

  “I believe I just said that.” Despite the other changes in her life since she last saw him, Captain Trevarian still vexed her.

  His gaze raked her from head to foot. She resisted raising her hands to cover herself. Something about his knowing eyes made her feel naked. A shiver careened along her as she recalled he had seen her almost nude in the brothel.

  “Captain Trevarian,” she said quietly, “I am busy. I have no interest in arguing with you.”

  He leaned a tanned hand on the desk to keep her imprisoned between his navy sleeve and the chair. With his eyes so close to hers, she could find no way to escape them. “Maybe,” he murmured, “I have some interest in hearing how you have been since the last time I saw you.”

  “This is the most unseemly show of lack of manners I’ve ever seen. If you think—”

  His roar of laughter halted her. Her mouth grew taut with rage. He acted as if she were a child again. When she tried to edge around the desk chair, he blocked her path easily. His eyes continued to sparkle. “They have made a puritan out of you.”

  “You needn’t make it sound like a curse.”

  “But it is for you, Lian.”

  “Lianne.”

  “Lee-ee-ee-anne,” he repeated with another laugh. “Now there is some of that spirit I saw in Canton. Why are you letting them smother it?”

  She pushed his arm aside and was surprised when he moved back a step. Putting several paces between them, she kept her chin high. “I am accustomed to being treated with respect in my father’s home.”

  “Still blurring the letter ‘R,’ I see.”

  “Really, Captain! If you would give me your report—” She flushed as he smiled at her soft lisp.

  Sitting on a corner of the desk, he dropped the packet on the other papers. Locking his fingers around his knee, he said, “I understand congratulations are in order. I’ve been told that you are going to marry Dr. Newberry.”

  “Yes.” She was amazed that he had been asking about her as soon as he came ashore. “We are being married next month. If you are here, you are welcome to attend.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Oh, I forgot. Bryce Trevarian is married to his ship. He wouldn’t want to be lured into thinking that a wife would be far sweeter in his hands than a ship.”

  “Is that a proposal, blue eyes?”

  Her breath caught in her throat as he spoke the nickname she had not heard in so many years. Shaking away the spell cast by his charming smile, she retorted, “I am marrying Weston.”

  “I hear, as well, that you’re having a fete on Saturday.”

  She smiled coldly. “I’d be foolish to ask you to attend when you’ve turned down my invitation to the wedding.”

  “Try me.”

  “Ver
y well. Do you want to come?”

  Rising, he crossed the room and drew her down to sit on the settee. He took her hands in his before she could halt him. “Why not? Save a dance for me, blue eyes, so I can see if the captain got his money’s worth from that fancy school in Boston.”

  Drawing her hands away before the peculiar pleasure persuaded her to do something foolish, she smiled coolly. “We shall look forward to your company that evening, Captain. Now, as you have brought your reports, I—”

  “That’s it?” His finger beneath her chin turned her face toward him. “What has happened to the urchin who had as many questions about the China Shadow as stories in her box?”

  “Box?”

  “Your thousand stories box.”

  “You remember that?” She did not want to admit she had not opened the box on her dresser in more than a year.

  His finger brushed feather soft across her lips. When they parted to free her eager sigh of the longing for the delight she had discovered in his arms, he smiled. His hand slid along her cheek as he steered her mouth toward the madness of his kiss.

  Madness … The word screeched through her head. She tore herself out of his arms. Rising, she edged closer to the windows, so that, if he approached her, he would do so in public view.

  Not that Bryce Trevarian would let that halt him. As he walked toward her, his intent clear in his eyes, she asked, “Aren’t you going to tell me where you have been? Father has been so worried about the China Shadow.”

  “And you?” he asked as he stopped in front of her. “Were you worried?”

  “Of course. I have friends on that ship.”

  He smiled. “Were you worried about me?”

  “I did spare you a moment of worry.”

  “That is a pleasant shock.”

  “I don’t know why.” When she reached for the packet of papers on the desk, he put his hand on them. She fought the temptation to glare at him, because she did not want him to know how he infuriated her.

  “No? Why should I believe that you were concerned about me?”

  She shrugged. “You have proven yourself to be a skilled captain. It would be a great loss to the Shadow Line to lose both you and the ship.”

  “Your compassion is touching, blue eyes.”

  “My name is Lianne. The other captains call me ‘Miss Lianne.’”

  “I’ll be damned before I do that.”

  “Captain, I believe you’re already damned.”

  He ran his fingers through his black hair that settled in a wild array on his brow. “I thought you were unique, but you have become just like everyone else in Storm-haven.”

  Holding out her hand, she said, “Captain, if you will let me take your reports to Father, we can be done with this.”

  “You have become the princess of the realm, Miss Lianne. Just remember that I know you for what you are. Does your beloved doctor?”

  “Weston is a founding member of the Stormhaven Abolitionists’ Society. He knows the tolerance there must be for other people who aren’t in control of their destinies.”

  Laughter erupted from him as he captured her chin in his palm. “So you are content with this? A life in this close-minded little town? Never worrying about anything more important than which napkins to use with which dishes. It is a good thing you are no longer in Canton. You would never survive there.”

  “I have survived here.”

  “By becoming just like everyone else here. I thought better of you, blue eyes. I guess you are a little fool.”

  “Get out! Just because you were wrong about my fitting in here, you …” Her voice faded into horrified silence as his grin widened.

  “That’s right, blue eyes. I warned you if I was wrong I would have to make our greetings like our good-byes.”

  “I have asked you to leave, Captain. Do I have to call Hyett to have you escorted from the house?”

  “No.” He pressed the papers into her hand and strode toward the door.

  Her voice broke as she whispered, “Captain?”

  He turned, and his eyes narrowed, warning that her grief was displayed on her face. “Yes?”

  “Captain, when you were in Canton, did you see my mother?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip.

  Returning to where she stood, he murmured, “I asked about her, Lianne.”

  “You did?”

  “You do not need to look so surprised. I have asked about her on every trip to Canton since I left you here.” His voice deepened with sympathy. “It’s as if she has vanished. I’m sorry, blue eyes.”

  She dropped the pages on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her mouth to withhold her sob of pain. She turned away so he could not see the tears about to splash on her cheeks.

  When she heard the door close, she whirled about to find herself alone. As she stared at the packet of papers on the desk, she reached to open it. She wanted to know what had happened.

  Picking up the first page written in his handwriting which was as bold as Captain Trevarian’s smile, she shivered. Captain Bryce Trevarian had returned. She did not want to think of how his arrival would change her life, but of one thing she was positive. He would change it.

  Eight

  “Captain Trevarian,” Hyett announced from the parlor door.

  Lianne stiffened, her hands tightening on the cards. She had been enjoying playing whist with Father, Great-Aunt Tildy, and Weston. So why did her heart lurch when she heard Captain Trevarian’s name?

  She said nothing as he walked in. She could not deny that Bryce Trevarian was handsome. Unlike Weston’s classical looks, the captain’s features were as rough and untamed as the sea—and as mysteriously enticing. He had shaved since his visit last night, but his black mustache remained to accent the volatile emotions in his eyes.

  Lianne rose to greet him, trying to ignore how his gaze tried to peel away her defenses. As a lazy smile curled one end of his mustache, she wished she could disconcert him, but the wiles she used on others failed with him.

  A hand in the center of her back freed her from his gaze. Gratefully she turned to smile at Weston. She was shocked to discover his scowl. He must have seen Captain Trevarian’s familiar gaze.

  With her hand on Weston’s arm, she said, “Weston, do you remember Captain Trevarian?”

  “Of course. Everyone is talking about the captain who brought the China Shadow back to Stormhaven … finally.”

  Lianne tensed at Captain Trevarian’s anger. She had read his report and knew it had not been incompetence that had delayed the ship. An attack by Chinese pirates had left the ship barely able to limp to a nearby island, where they had worked to patch her together to get back to Stormhaven. As her father had said, few men would have been able to save the ship and crew, but Bryce Trevarian had.

  Captain Catherwood’s voice intruded. “Come here, Bryce. Let me see you, my friend.”

  Brushing past the doctor, Bryce hoped Newberry took offense at his rudeness. He smiled as he shook Captain Catherwood’s trembling hand. Now he understood why Lianne had not invited him see her father yesterday. The captain’s sunken eyes glittered with excitement, but he was fragile.

  He did not let his reaction show as he sat in the green chair where Lianne had been sitting. He began to tell the captain stories of the voyage, but his gaze went again and again to where Lianne stood beside her doctor. He could not understand her interest in a timid creature like Newberry or why the captain would let her marry the town’s doctor.

  “So you blasted those devils out of the sea?” asked the captain with a chortle.

  Bryce smiled. “The pirates are not accustomed to real fighting. They want to strike fast and hard and disappear with their booty. Unfortunately for them, they attacked the wrong ship. We left nothing of that pirate larger than a piece of tinder.”

  “How awful!” gasped Lianne.

  “Indeed,” seconded Newberry. “I trust your barbaric methods were necessary, Captain.�
� Putting his hand on Lianne’s elbow, he said, “If you will excuse us, we shall sit on the porch. We have a few details to discuss about the ball on Saturday.”

  As Lianne reached for her shawl, Captain Catherwood asked, “Why don’t you go with them, Bryce? Lianne tells me you are joining us on Saturday. Maybe you have some ideas to make the ball more entertaining.”

  Bryce grinned as Captain Catherwood winked. Maybe the captain was not amenable to this match, after all. Coming to his feet, he said, “If you don’t mind, Lianne …” His emphasis on her American name was something only she would comprehend. He chuckled under his breath, knowing that, in her family’s presence, she could not retort as she wished.

  “Yes, yes, come along,” she mumbled, jamming her bonnet on her head.

  Bryce followed, noticing how Newberry’s hand tightened on her elbow while they walked to the front door. Newberry steered her to the swing at the far end of the porch where there was room for only two. Newberry hoped that Bryce would take the hint that his company was not welcome.

  With another hushed chuckle, Bryce sat on the porch railing and leaned back against the pole supporting the roof. The silence was unbroken, because the fall chill had quieted the crickets.

  “Don’t let me interrupt your planning for the ball,” Bryce said, as he pulled out his pipe. He tapped it against the railing, put it in his mouth, and drew on the empty bowl. “It is amazing how little the stars change between here and China. Of course, in the south seas, you can see the Southern Cross. Remember the first night you saw it from the deck of the China Shadow, Lianne?”

  “Yes,” she replied, with obvious reluctance.

  “I didn’t think you’d forget that night.”

  “What happened?” asked Newberry.

  While Bryce drew out a bag of tobacco and refilled his pipe, Lianne answered, “The China Shadow had run into some foul weather which we were afraid would send us off-course. When the clouds cleared and the stars revealed our location, we found we were far ahead of where we should have been.”

  “It’s not often a storm blows you in the right direction,” added Bryce with a laugh. “I swear we were running athwartships half the time. Never saw waves like those. You are getting yourself a fine sailor, Newberry. She never panicked, even when she was soaked to the skin.”

 

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