The Captain's Pearl

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  Lianne tried to sort out the thousand stories from the thousand stories box to recall what her mother had told her of her father. The tale burst like fireworks from her memory, containing scenes of her mother telling her about her father who captained a fine American ship, scenes with her father as he taught her the different ways of Stormhaven, even scenes of Davis speaking of his delight in finding his sister before death took him.

  “It is impossible!” she cried.

  “Hardly, my dear child. Ch’en Mei was my mistress before she seduced my captain. In that time, you were conceived.” He tapped his hat onto his head and smiled broadly. “I shall return tomorrow to instruct you about our future.”

  Lianne broke free of her shock. “Don’t ever come back here again! I don’t want to hear any more of your lies!”

  “It is the truth, daughter.” His grin grew even more calculating. “And is it also true that you and your mother concocted this scheme to steal the Shadow Line from a dying man?”

  “You are mad!”

  As he put out his hand for the door knob, he looked back at her. “Not as mad as you and Mei were to think you could succeed with this plot you created between the two of you.”

  Lianne’s eyes widened. Created? The thousand stories box! “I have proof that Captain Catherwood is my father.”

  “What proof?” His eyes became icy blue slits.

  “My father made a wooden box which he gave to my mother. It had his initials on it.”

  Simmons’s smile returned. “SC? You know in China that the surname comes first.”

  “But my father is not Chinese.”

  “I know that well, daughter.”

  “I am not your daughter!”

  “Deny it if you wish. Denying the truth might be handy when you try to explain why your mother never sent you here until she heard Captain Catherwood was ill.” He laughed and hobbled out.

  Lianne sank to the settee. She never had guessed how greedy Chester Simmons was. Her father! That was what he claimed to be. Tears stung her eyes as she shook her head. Samuel Catherwood must be her father. No words from a twisted, covetous man would destroy her precious memories of her real father.

  But it was too late. She gazed around the room. Doubts heckled her. Suddenly, the place that had been her beloved home no longer seemed hers. A lie. It had to be a lie.

  Simmons? Her father? It was impossible! Or was it?

  Lianne stood. There was one person who might be able to help. Hurrying out of her office, she peeked into the back parlor. Great-Aunt Tildy was not there. Rushing up the steps at a pace which would have earned her a reprimand if her great-aunt had seen her, she stopped in front of Great-Aunt Tildy’s door.

  She hesitated as she lifted her hand to knock. She did not want to find out that her mother had lied to her. No, Mother had no reason to be false with her. Samuel Catherwood was her father, not a heartless man who was intent on getting revenge for a crime older than she was.

  Her great-aunt’s cheerful voice called for her to come in.

  Lianne took a deep breath and opened the door. She tried to force a smile, but it was impossible. Crossing the room which was decorated in Great-Aunt Tildy’s favorite shades of green and red, she did not look at the patterned screen in one corner or the tables on the flowery rug. Her troubled gaze went to her great-aunt who was reclining on a long daybed.

  “Lianne, my child, I thought you were busy in your office.” Great-Aunt Tildy smiled warmly. “Come in, and tell me about your day.”

  She clasped and unclasped her hands as she paused in the middle of the room. If what Simmons said was true, Tildy Catherwood was not her great-aunt. Knowing she had no choice, she took another slow breath. “Great-Aunt Tildy, I must speak to you of an important matter.” Her voice trembled.

  “What is it?” She sat straighter. “Is Bryce all right?”

  A smile loosened her tight lips. “Bryce is fine.”

  “Then why do you look so distraught?”

  “I must ask you about something else.”

  “What?”

  “Something I find uncomfortable to speak about.”

  “Lianne, it is not like you to talk in circles. Say what you must, child.”

  Lianne knelt by her great-aunt’s chair. “I just had a visitor who told me … things. I must find out if what he is saying is true.”

  “Who called?”

  “Chester Simmons.”

  Great-Aunt Tildy’s smile vanished. “What did he say to distress you?”

  “He says he is my father, and he says that my mother and I conspired to obtain the Shadow Line when she knew my father was near death.”

  A curse she had never thought she would hear on her great-aunt’s lips blistered her ears. “I was afraid when you first arrived that Mr. Simmons would claim that he was your father. Then he did not, and I thought he might have come to his senses, after being witless for so many years.”

  “It is possible?”

  “Anything is possible.” Looking down at her, Great-Aunt Tildy said, “Lianne, I was not sure if your mother had told you the truth.”

  “She told me Samuel Catherwood was my father.”

  “And she was probably right.” Color stained Great-Aunt Tildy’s cheeks. “After all, she would know better than anyone if she was pregnant before she left Chester Simmons for Samuel.”

  “Then Mother and he were lovers?”

  “That is what Samuel told me shortly after you came home to Stormhaven. Apparently, Chester Simmons ‘found’ her and made her his mistress.”

  “Found?” Lianne frowned. “How? He would not have been allowed within the walls of Canton.”

  “I don’t know. Either Samuel did not know, or he chose not to tell me. You could ask Mr. Simmons.”

  “I doubt if I could tell what was the truth and what was false.”

  Great-Aunt Tildy shook her head. “That is true. Samuel did tell me that your mother had been treated poorly by Mr. Simmons.” Her lips grew taut again. “Samuel did not want to tell me the sordid details, but he told me enough that I know Mr. Simmons had struck her at least once.”

  “But Father still welcomed him here?”

  “Your father had a generous heart, as you well know.”

  “Yes, for he welcomed me as his daughter when he could have turned me away.”

  “If Mr. Simmons asked his forgiveness, Samuel would have given it.”

  Lianne gritted her teeth. “Even though that request was only feigned.” She closed her eyes. “I cannot blame Father when I was taken in, too. Mr. Simmons treated me with respect until today, when he brought these lies here.”

  “Lies he will gladly spread to anyone willing to listen.” Great-Aunt Tildy tapped her chair, warning of her distress. “No doubt, he will get Dr. Newberry on his side with all speed. If only we could refute his words, but your father took any information he had with him to his grave. The only other person who knows for sure, the only person you would trust is—”

  “Mother,” she breathed with regret. “And Mother cannot be found.”

  “That is unfortunate, for it adds veracity to Mr. Simmons’s tale that she schemed to send you here only when she knew how Samuel was fading.”

  “But she didn’t send me here because of Father’s health. It was because Mother’s Younger Brother—” She grimaced, because the name sounded so ridiculous in English. “It was because my uncle wanted to rid the family of me. I doubt if she would have approached Davis if she had not feared for my safety.”

  “I know that, child, and I believe it. But will others?” She sighed. “This explains why Samuel gave Mr. Simmons a generous amount of money when Mr. Simmons was finally forced to retire. Samuel hoped that Mr. Simmons would leave you alone, instead of waiting until the Shadow Line was yours and he could force you to pay him even more to keep his lies to himself.”

  “But Mr. Simmons must not have suspected that I would marry Bryce.”

  “No.” Great-Aunt Tildy chuckled. “
Samuel never did anything for the Shadow Line without a good reason.”

  Lianne sank to sit on her heels. “What do I do now?”

  “Tell Bryce. Let him handle it.”

  “Bryce?” Her face paled in horror. “No!”

  “He will help you.” Great-Aunt Tildy frowned. “Don’t you believe that?”

  Wrapping her arms around herself, she nodded. “Yes, but I fear he will confront Mr. Simmons to force him to retract his story. That would appear as if Bryce were trying to silence the truth.”

  “Bryce will know that. You must trust him, Lianne.” Great-Aunt Tildy stroked Lianne’s hair. “Child, you must tell him before the rumor reaches him. Mr. Simmons may not delay in putting his threat into action.”

  Lianne sighed. Great-Aunt Tildy was right. Coming to her feet, she kissed her great-aunt on the cheek. “I will have Hyett send for Bryce straightaway.”

  “Good.” Great-Aunt Tildy squeezed her hand. “Be strong, Lianne. A Catherwood is always strong when facing adversity.” Her hands fisted on the chair. “You are a Catherwood.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Go, child, and send for Bryce. Then do what you must.”

  Lianne stared, hearing the echo of another voice. “My mother always urged me to do that.”

  “Your father, as well.” She shooed Lianne toward the door. “Go, child.”

  Lianne smiled as she went to ring for Hyett. She would do what she must to defeat Chester Simmons who yearned to ruin everything she loved. Whatever it took, she would do. Nothing and no one would steal her happiness from her again.

  Nothing.

  No one.

  Bryce brushed past Hyett as he entered the house, shaking rain from his black wool cloak. “Where is she?”

  “Upstairs, Captain Trevarian. Mrs. Trevarian asked that you come immediately to your rooms.” The butler refused to meet his eyes.

  “What is it, Hyett?” he asked. The message from the butler had been terse: Mrs. Trevarian requested that Captain Trevarian come to the house posthaste.

  “I cannot say for sure, Captain.” He looked up from the spot on the floor which seemed to mesmerize him. “But Miss Catherwood is pacing upstairs in her room—something she should not be doing when her hip still should be healing—and Mrs. Trevarian’s voice shook when she gave me the message for you.”

  Bryce swore. Lianne must be mightily upset to let the butler hear her distress. He took the stairs three at a time, his heavy cloak flapping behind him, and strode along the hallway to Lianne’s door. It opened before he could turn the knob.

  “Come in,” Lianne whispered, as she walked to the chair by the bed.

  He closed the door behind him, watching as she sat with the rustle of starched petticoats beneath her black gown. He looked forward to the day when she could put her mourning for the captain behind her and again wear the pretty colors that added to her beauty. On his next trip to China, he would bring her back a scarlet ch ’eŭng shaam embroidered with gold dragons and bright flowers.

  All thoughts of that were shunted aside, when he saw that she held in her lap the box the captain had carved and given to her mother. She ran her fingers along its top.

  “What is wrong?” he asked.

  Slowly she looked up at him, her face as gray as Hyett’s had been. Her blue eyes were dim with despair. “Chester Simmons came here today to demand money from me and Trevarian Enterprises.”

  “Why does that old fool, who never did an honest day’s work in his life, think you should pay him now that he no longer works on the China Shadow?”

  “Because he believes it is a daughter’s duty to provide for her father in his last years.”

  Bryce frowned. She was making no sense. “What does that have to do with you?”

  He listened as she told him about Simmons’s visit and his claims. His fists tightened at his sides. “That is absurd. Captain Catherwood believed you are his daughter. Davis believed you are his sister, and your mother—”

  “Is the only one who knows the truth.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Even if we knew where she was in Canton, by the time we could get her here, the damage to Trevarian Enterprises from his lies would be done.”

  “So you are going to let him blackmail you?”

  “No.” She stood, cradling her box in her arms. “You know as well as I do that we do not have the money to pay for his silence now.”

  “You have proof that you are Captain Catherwood’s daughter right there.” He pointed to the box. “Your mother would not have given it to you if she had not thought you might need it to prove the truth.”

  “But it doesn’t.” She held up the box, touching the initials carved into it. “See this?”

  “SC—Samuel Catherwood. All the proof you need.”

  “But if it were meant to be read in the Chinese way, it would be—”

  With a savage curse, he pulled the box out of her hands.

  He opened the box and dumped the pages on the bed.

  “Bryce, be careful!” Lianne tried to gather up the strips of paper. These stories were the only things she had remaining from her mother. She looked over her shoulder to see him going through the dressing room to her father’s room. “What are you doing?”

  “Making certain no one ever uses this box to question the truth,” he shouted.

  She ran into the room just in time to see him throw her thousand stories box onto the fire on the hearth. “No!” she cried, not caring that the door to the hall was open, so her voice carried all through the house.

  Bryce caught her arm, keeping her from reaching into the fire for the box. She moaned as the flames feasted on the varnish. Sinking to the floor, she stared at the box surrendering to the fire.

  “It is for the best,” he said.

  She raised her gaze to his hard face, as he pulled off his cloak and dropped it into a lump on his bed. “How can you say that? It was my thousand stories box! It was the only thing I had from both my father and my mother.” She reached for a poker. It might not be too late to save the box from being destroyed.

  He stepped between her and the fireplace tools. Bringing her to her feet, he gripped her arms. “That box is the only thing that could take from you what your father wanted you to have. Your real father! Samuel Catherwood. If your old beau Newberry and his friends hear of this, they would waste no time seeing that you lost control of the Shadow Line.”

  “And you lose control of it!” She glanced from his taut lips to the box that was disintegrating as the flame melted the glue holding it together. “If Chester Simmons is correct, it jeopardizes Trevarian Enterprises’s claim on the Shadow Line.”

  “Do you think that is all I care about? Trevarian Enterprises?”

  “I hope it is not all you care about.”

  He shook his head as he released her. “Keep saying things like that, and you will convince everyone in Storm-haven that you are truly Simmons’s daughter. He always has distrusted everyone, thinking they were like him, only interested in what he could get for himself.” His scowl deepened. “That is not the way Samuel Catherwood would think. He always considered his crew first.”

  “Are you saying that I lied when I said I am a Catherwood?”

  “You are a Trevarian now.”

  “You aren’t answering my question. Do you think I lied?”

  “You? No.”

  “But you think my mother lied.” She looked at the box that had fallen into scorched pieces on the logs. Her heart twisted with pain. She had not guessed that the thousand stories box’s own story would end like this. “She had no reason to lie when she knew that Mr. Simmons could refute anything I said.”

  His face lost all emotion. “If she knew he was still alive. She might have thought that it was safe now to send you to Stormhaven.”

  “No!” she cried, although an icy chill clung to her. “My mother did not lie, and my father did not lie. I am Lianne Catherwood Trevarian. You would believe that, too, if you were thinkin
g of something other than possessing those accursed ships.”

  “Accursed ships?” He leaned his hand on the footboard of her father’s bed. “It seems—” He turned as a tentative knock was placed on the open door. “What is it, Hyett?”

  The butler stepped gingerly into the room. “Forgive me for intruding, Captain.” He glanced at Lianne and quickly away.

  “What is it, Hyett?” Bryce asked again.

  “This just arrived from the Pacific Shadow.” He held out a slip of paper. “I was told by the boy who delivered it that it was urgent.”

  Bryce took the note and unfolded it. His eyes widened as he read it. Stuffing it into his pocket, he went into the dressing room.

  “Is there a problem?” Lianne asked softly.

  The butler shrugged.

  “You don’t know what it says?” she persisted, so curious about what might take Bryce away now that she did not care what Hyett thought.

  “No. You know I would not read a personal message for one of the household.” He again glanced at her and quickly away. “I am sorry, Mrs. Trevarian.”

  Before she had a chance to ask Hyett if he was sorry about not being able to answer her questions, or for intruding on the quarrel, or for the loss of her thousand stories box, Bryce walked back into the room. He was tying a dry cloak around his neck.

  “We will discuss all of this later,” he said in a strained voice. “I cannot let this wait.”

  Although she wanted to ask what this was, she nodded.

  “Stay close to the house,” Bryce said quietly. “I don’t want you doing anything to give credence to Simmons’s claim.”

  “There is nothing to give credence to his claim. I am not his daughter.”

  When Hyett drew in his breath sharply, Bryce frowned. “That is what I mean. Hyett is shocked. How much more shocked will the people in Stormhaven be? A single thoughtless word can condemn you to those who hate that the captain’s half-Chinese daughter inherited his wealth and company.”

  “You are just like Simmons!” she exclaimed. “I am not the one like him, but you are. All you can think of is destroying my happiness so you can have yours.”