The Captain's Pearl

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  “It is a shame such a lovely bride must be married in black,” crooned Great-Aunt Tildy from her chair in the corner of the bedroom.

  “I would have no one think I didn’t honor my father.”

  “Nobody would accuse you of that, my child.” Rising stiffly, she leaned on a gold topped cane as she crossed the room to where Lianne continued to stare into the mirror. “It is not too late to end this before it begins.”

  “I can’t.” Lianne whirled away to the soft, accusing whisper of her satin petticoats. “Father depended on me to take care of the Shadow Line. It was his—” Hastily she corrected herself. “He would be pleased to have Bryce as his successor.”

  When Great-Aunt Tildy placed her blue lined hand against Lianne’s face, she whispered, “I knew Samuel since his birth, my child. For years, he was sad. I couldn’t guess why until you arrived and I learned how he had missed your mother. You eased the grief in his heart.”

  “I am glad.”

  “Don’t you understand, Lianne? He wouldn’t want you to be sad. He loved you more than anything else in his life.” Her wrinkled cheeks became deep crevices as she smiled. “I wish I could have met your mother, Lianne. She must have been a remarkable woman.”

  The most vicious pain erupted past her anxiety. “Mother may still be alive!” Walking to the fireplace, she held out her hands in black lace gloves. “Great-Aunt Tildy, may I be alone for a few minutes?”

  There was a second of hesitation, then Great-Aunt Tildy answered, “Of course, child. I’ll send Iris to get you when everyone is here.”

  “Thank you.”

  The tap of Great-Aunt Tildy’s cane disappeared through the door and along the hallway.

  Lianne did not move. This hurried wedding would be nothing like the glorious day she had planned for her and Weston.

  That fairy tale was over. She could no longer believe her suitor would come riding up on a fleet charger to sweep her away from the handsome ogre she must wed. She shivered as she realized that beneath her imaginary knight’s armor was Bryce Trevarian. Her shiver was not from the cold, but from the fire within her. A fire that her future husband had kindled with his fierce kisses.

  Love or hate? She did not know which she felt for Bryce.

  At a knock, Lianne opened the door and nodded to the maid standing there. She hurried down the stairs. Hyett was waiting in the foyer. He offered her a smile. She did not try to return it as she went to the front parlor.

  She paused in the doorway. The guests were cluttered about the room, but her gaze was caught by Bryce’s. He had become a dapper gentleman instead of a rogue. His coat was as black as her gown. Only his shirt was white, for his high collar was closed with a black cravat. Her trepidation drained away as he held out his hand. She placed hers in it.

  Standing next to him, she repeated the vows which soldered her life to his. She was astounded by her thrill of happiness as she heard him promise to love and cherish her for the rest of their lives. A Catherwood never broke a promise. Did a Trevarian?

  He drew off her left glove and slipped a ring on her fourth finger. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the symbol of yin-yang engraved in gold. Two small sapphires accented the design.

  She could not ask where he had found it, because Bryce lifted her veil once Reverend Dover pronounced them man and wife. When Bryce’s broad hands tilted her face toward his, she forgot everything but being in his arms. As his lips touched hers gently, she leaned toward him, wanting his touch to ease her excruciating need.

  With a soft laugh, he whispered, “Soon, my dear wife. Soon.”

  Lianne had no time to answer as their guests swarmed over them to offer them congratulations.

  The usual hazing of the bride and groom was set aside in deference to Father’s recent death. As the guests began to depart, she heard Bryce tell more than one that he would be working on the China Shadow in the morning. A pang went through her. Too many things demanded their time to enjoy a honeymoon, but she had hoped she could lure her husband away from his first love for more than one short night.

  Bryce saw a swirl of black skirts fleeing up the stairs. “Why don’t you come at midday tomorrow?” he asked the man standing beside him. “We can discuss the new mizzen for the China Shadow.”

  “Captain, I—”

  “Tomorrow!” He pushed past the man and left the room.

  Although he would have enjoyed staying to discuss the ship’s repair, the China Shadow’s future had been assured with his wedding to Lianne. Now he must turn his thoughts to his marriage.

  Taking the steps two at a time, he hesitated at the top as he looked at Lianne’s closed door. How many times had he imagined completing the seduction that had been started in the despicable brothel? Now …

  He smiled at the closed door. He never had considered that he would become Lianne’s husband. Not that being married to her should change his life. His loyalty to the Shadow Line and his love for his ship—his ship—was the same. The sea was still his, and he had slender arms to enfold him when he arrived home.

  All in all, it was the best life he could imagine.

  He reached for the knob, half-expecting it to be locked, but the door opened easily. Glancing about the room, which was decorated with a feminine array of lace and pale blue wallpaper, he scowled. It was empty.

  He opened his mouth, then closed it. With some guests still downstairs, he could not shout for his wife. Stamping into the hall, he saw a finger of light from beneath the door across the hall. He knocked.

  “Come in, Bryce,” came Lianne’s soft voice through the door.

  He opened it and discovered a large room lost in a hushed twilight. Crimson drapes were pulled to shut out the day’s last light. Furniture was scattered across the Oriental carpet, including a large bed.

  When a door opened from what he guessed was a dressing room, his breath caught as he stared at Lianne. Dressed in a blue wrapper which matched the color of her eyes, she had loosened her hair to let it float in a black cloud along her back. The robe clung to her, suggesting the delights waiting beneath.

  “I looked for you in your room.” He cursed the tremulous sound of his voice. It was not as if she were the first woman he had ever been with, but now she was the only one he wanted.

  “Great-Aunt Tildy suggested we use these rooms. They belonged to Father and Davis’s mother. I couldn’t—” She glanced at her father’s room on the other side of the dressing room.

  “This is fine,” he said with soft sympathy.

  Lianne said nothing as Bryce drew off his coat and dropped it over a chair. He pulled off his shoes and wiggled his toes. Loosening his cravat, he grinned. “These fancy things aren’t for a man accustomed to a sailor’s clothes.”

  “You shall be wearing those clothes often now that you control the most important business in Stormhaven. Father was constantly entertaining investors from Boston.” She smiled ruefully. “At least that is something we can postpone for a few weeks.”

  “Why? In honor of our nuptials?”

  “No, in remembrance of Father’s passing.” She stepped away from him.

  “It is too bad he couldn’t have seen this day,” Bryce said, pulling off his high collar. “It would have made him very happy.”

  “If Father was alive, there would have been no reason for us to marry, Bryce.”

  “Are you so sure? He made sure I received the letter before he died.”

  She winced. She yearned to believe that her father had wanted her to be happy.

  “You look frightened, blue eyes,” he whispered.

  She started to reply, then realized he was speaking in Cantonese. The rich sounds were as sweet as rain on a summer’s afternoon.

  “You don’t mind if we share this as our own private language of love, do you?” His hands reached for hers.

  Weaving her fingers through his, she smiled. “It’s the language of the first place I loved.”

  “Now it shall be of the place where you are loved night af
ter night.” With a laugh, he pulled her to him. “Be mine, blue eyes.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, as all her hesitation vanished.

  His lips were a soft whisper against hers as he kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other. The tip of his tongue warmed her lips as each shallow breath brushed her against the hard planes of his chest.

  When his mouth traveled along her high cheekbones to the crescent of her ear, she moaned with soft desire. She wanted him. She wanted his kisses and to taste the masculine textures of his body. She wanted to give him the pleasure he offered her.

  He laughed when she undid his dress shirt. “Eager, are you?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “You have changed,” he whispered, as her fingers spread across his chest, exploring his firm muscles. “In Canton, you cringed from me.”

  “Would you prefer I kneel with my head against your feet?” she asked, with a soft laugh.

  He put his arm under her knees and lifted her easily. Her hair draped over his arm. Resting her head against his chest, she delighted in the swift beat of his heart. When he placed her in the nest of pillows, he slanted across her, his hand on the curve of her hip. “I don’t want you kneeling, blue eyes. I want you in my arms as we find the rapture waiting deep within you.”

  His shirt gaped as he undid the sash on her wrapper. His fingers elicited succulent sensations that left her toes curling in anticipation. She started to slide his shirt off his arms, but she halted as his lips played along her neck. Wrapping her arms around his bare back, she pulled him closer, yearning for him against her. Her fingers combed through his thick hair as his mustache teased her skin.

  She whispered his name as his mouth traveled along the lace dipping low across her breasts. His hushed laugh throbbed through her liked a storm wave pounding the shore.

  He sat and pulled off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. Drawing off her wrapper, he sent it following his clothes. The devilish glitter in his green eyes matched his roguish smile as, not touching her, not kissing her, he let his gaze rove along her.

  An ache burst to life in her. With a choked moan, she reached for him.

  He smiled as he caught her fingers and raised them to his lips. “I want to look at you, blue eyes. You have been my fantasy for four years.”

  “You have seen me before.”

  “Yes, I have,” he whispered. “But you have changed. Here.” He stroked her hip and along her waist. “And here.” His hand settled on her breast.

  She gasped, overwhelmed by the cacophony of sensations. She gripped his arms and steered his mouth over hers. Even as his tongue sought satisfaction in her mouth, she could think only of his fingertip edging in a slow, sinuous climb to the tip of her breast.

  When he slipped his hand beneath the silken whisper of her camisole, its rough texture scraped across her, burnishing her with exquisite pleasure. Her legs entwined with his, and a sharp cry of rapture escaped her as his hand settled over her breast once more. Nothing she had ever experienced, nothing she had ever imagined was as splendid as his touch.

  With an eager grin, he brought her up to sit and pulled off her camisole. His gaze edged along her again, sparking every inch of her with his invisible caress before he wrapped his arms around her.

  The warmth of his skin stroked her. When he drew off the last of her clothes and leaned her back into the pillows, she held out her hands to him. He grinned and unbuttoned his trousers. Rising, she ignored his protest, which vanished when she put her hand on the waistband.

  As she lowered them along his sturdy legs, she was startled to find a white sliver of a scar on his thigh. “Bryce?”

  He dropped the trousers to the floor and kissed her. “Ask me sometime to tell you more about the pirates on the China Shadow. Tonight, I don’t want to talk about the past, blue eyes.”

  She nodded, as she was lost once more in his gaze as she reached out to touch the very male angles of his body. His eyes closed as he groaned with the longing she sensed along him. He claimed her mouth. Fiery kisses left her gasping for breath while he sampled the silken texture of her skin. When his mouth teased the tip of her breast into it, she arched against him.

  The moist meanderings of his tongue along her became a torment. Each twist and turn tantalized her skin. She writhed when his fingers found the warmth deep within her.

  Clutching his shoulders, she gave herself to helpless abandonment as he melded them together in a single need. The hunger consumed her when his mouth captured hers so she could share his ragged breathing. In one dazzling moment, the power of raw ecstasy swelled through her, sending her swirling into a dream she never wanted to relinquish.

  Lianne’s eyes opened as Bryce whispered, “Blue eyes, I was wrong. You would have made a lousy whore.”

  “You mean you didn’t—”

  He placed his finger over her lips. “If you would just listen once, you might not bring so much trouble on yourself.”

  “I’ve had help!”

  “Undoubtedly.” He laughed. “What I meant is that you give all of yourself. That life would have destroyed you.”

  She shivered. “I don’t want to talk of that.”

  “Then tell me what you want to talk about.”

  Holding up her hand, she looked at the ring he had given her. “Where did you get this?”

  “Canton.”

  “Canton?” She leaned across his chest to see his amusement. “Certainly you didn’t plan to marry me then!”

  Bryce ran his fingers along her and smiled as she quivered. “I saw those sapphires, and they reminded me of your eyes. So I bought the ring. Yin and yang. Man and woman. The opposing sides of nature brought together in perfect harmony.”

  “Like us?” How easy it would be to blurt that she was falling in love with him! They could have the greatest story of all in the thousand stories box.

  “You’re mine now,” he whispered, as he rolled her onto her back. He gathered a handful of her hair and rubbed it against his jaw. “You’re mine and so is the Shadow Line.”

  She pulled back in horror. His face hardened. When he swore, she did not know if he was angry at her or at himself.

  As he stood, she sat, drawing the tangled covers over her breasts. He pulled on his trousers and reached for his shirt.

  “Bryce, where—I mean …?” Pain thickened her voice as he stared into the fire on the hearth. “Bryce?”

  “Go to sleep. I think I could use a drink of that brandy they served earlier.”

  Lianne reached for her wrapper, but he was gone before she could pull it around her. While he held her, he had spoken soft endearments she had believed were true. How could he be part of her and not know that her heart longed to belong to him?

  Sinking back onto the mattress, she glanced at the dressing room which separated her room from her father’s room. She had told Bryce that she would not care if he entertained his mistresses, then came to her. Only now, far too late, did she realize how she had become entangled in her own lies.

  Bryce had not betrayed her.

  Father had not betrayed her.

  She had been betrayed by her own aching, heart, which yearned to belong to a man who refused to accept it.

  Fourteen

  Lianne pulled back on the reins to stop the buggy in front of the old grist mill Father had bought weeks before his death. She sighed as she thought of the many times she had driven past it with Weston. Now she was the wife of Captain Bryce Trevarian, head of Trevarian Enterprises, as he had renamed the Shadow Line.

  In the aftermath of the reading of her father’s will, Bryce had been shocked that she intended to take the wording literally. Captain Samuel Catherwood had written:

  My dear daughter Lianne and her husband shall own and oversee the holdings jointly.

  “That is because he thought you were marrying that idiot Newberry!” Bryce had stated this morning after the lawyers left.

  “Are you sure? If Father had time to write you that note, he could have
also revised his will if he chose.”

  Throwing his white shirt onto a chair, he went into the dressing room for the clothes he wore on the ships. She watched in silence, for she was unsure if he would return. Every night he came to her room for the passion which bound their bodies together. He was a gentle and intriguing lover, teaching her ways of pleasure which she could not have guessed existed. He never rushed away in the warm afterglow. Only when the time came to sleep did he leave her alone, aching for his arms around her.

  When he poked his head out of the dressing room, he demanded, “And what’s that supposed to mean? That the captain didn’t think I was competent to handle his assets?”

  “Did you ever consider that he might have thought I was competent, too?”

  Shrugging on a shirt, he grasped a belt from a drawer and came into her room. “This won’t work, blue eyes. There must be one head of Trevarian Enterprises.”

  “Why?” She sat on the chest at the foot of the bed. “I’ve thought about what you said before we were married, Bryce. You oversee the ships, and I deal with what is ashore.”

  A slow smile tilted his mustache as he leaned forward until his nose was against hers. The green glow of his eyes surrounded her. “And what else do you have planned in that quick mind of yours, blue eyes?”

  “Only a way to live in harmony.” She held up her wedding band. “Yin and yang. Man and woman. Earth and sea. Perfect harmony.”

  “With you, I doubt if that’s possible.” Straightening, he offered his hand to bring her to her feet. “We’ll try it while I am working on the China Shadow’s repairs.”

  As she stared at the mill’s stone walls covered with lichen, Lianne wondered how she could compete with Bryce’s love for the sea. It would be so much easier if she could stop herself from falling in love with him.

  She climbed out of the buggy and looped the reins over a nearby bush. Tightening her cape around her, she wished the day was warmer. Cold weather was something she had not been able to become accustomed to.