“If that is what you think, then you shall have to suffer from that misconception a while longer. I don’t have time now to show you how wrong you are.” He slapped the page against his hand. “This cannot wait.” He walked out of the room.
Lianne looked at Hyett, but the butler rushed out, clearly embarrassed to witness their fierce words. She closed her eyes. Why had she said what she had? To hurt Bryce because he had burned her thousand stories box?
With a sigh, she reached for the cloak on the bed. Her hand was grasped, and she saw Bryce’s determined scowl. He drew her out of the room and twisted the key in the door.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I don’t want you to get any ideas of trying to fish the last pieces of that damn box out of the fire.”
“You don’t trust me?” She was sure her heart had shattered into uncountable splinters.
“I trust you to think with your heart instead of your head.”
“One of us must listen to our hearts.”
“I don’t have time to argue with you about this now. I will be back as soon as I can.”
He pulled her toward him, but she turned her face away. She did not want him to woo her from her anger with one of his fiery kisses. Fiery! Like the flames that had swallowed her beloved box.
Cupping her chin, he tilted her face toward his. She gasped when she saw the sorrow in his eyes. For her? For him? For both of them? She could not tell because he kissed her on the cheek before walking away, his dark cloak soaring behind him like a demon’s dark wings.
A green-eyed demon! That was what she had thought when she first saw him. Did she still believe that?
She sighed and looked at the locked door. She no longer knew what to believe about any of this. But she was sure of one thing. She was sure that Bryce had been wrong when he called her a little fool.
She was not a little fool. She was the biggest fool between Stormhaven and China.
Seventeen
Lianne drew her hand back from the locked door on the far side of the dressing room. She should have guessed that Bryce would lock both doors to her father’s room. She could have Hyett bring a key to have it opened, but what good would it do? The thousand stories box was gone by now.
Turning, she went back into her bedroom. She stared at the slips of paper scattered across her bed. What had seemed like a thousand stories when the pages were stored in the thousand stories box now seemed to be so few. She read the Chinese characters she had not looked at in so long and touched the symbols that spelled her Chinese name. Quickly she sorted through the papers and found the story she wanted. She reread the story of the fox’s daughter, who had helped a young man realize that love was not easily gained and kept.
She held the slip of paper close to her heart. The story had been one of Mother’s favorites, and now Lianne understood why. Mother’s love for Samuel Catherwood had cost her everything, but she never had considered the price one she would not willingly pay.
Lianne glanced back at the closed door in the dressing room. She loved Bryce. She had tried to deny that, but she could not. Now was she willing to face the cost of loving a man who had hurt her so deeply … to protect her and his dreams?
She dropped the paper containing the fox’s daughter’s story back onto the bed, then gathered them all up and placed them in the top drawer of her dresser. Catching a glimpse of her pale face in the mirror, she stared. The pain of the past hours had etched lines around her eyes. She raised her hands toward her blue eyes, a legacy from her father. She touched her rapidly thudding heart. She knew in her heart that her mother had been honest with her. Just as she knew that Bryce would not have destroyed her thousand stories box if he had thought he had another way to safeguard her and the Shadow Line.
Sinking to a chair, she gazed out at the harbor. Another ship was docked near the Pacific Shadow. It must be Captain Burroughs’s ship, which was months late returning from China again this year, because The Pearl did not have the strong lines of a Shadow ship.
Commanding a ship of the Shadow Line had been the dream that Bryce had worked so hard for, just as the young man in Mother’s story had struggled with his studies to win the fox’s daughter in marriage. The young man’s dream had come true, and so had Bryce’s. And hers? Her dream was of a life with this man she loved, working with him, arguing with him, making love with him.
“Mother,” she whispered in Cantonese, “you gave up your past for Father. I ask you to ask Mother’s Father to guide me in doing the same. Let me free myself from what was, so I can savor what is.”
“What did you say?” Great-Aunt Tildy asked from the door.
Lianne came to her feet. “I was talking to myself.”
“About why Bryce left in such a hurry?”
“You are being very kind. I am sure you heard our loud voices.”
Great-Aunt Tildy smiled sadly, but she kept her hands behind her back. “This house has heard many arguments in the past, and it will in the future. No one who lives beneath its roof has a gentle temper. We all are stubborn and certain we are right.”
“I am not so sure I was right.” Lianne went to look out the window. The wind was rocking the tree branches, obscuring her view of the harbor. “But I do know I cannot let the wounds my words caused fester and cause more damage.” She faced her great-aunt. “I may deplore what Bryce did to my thousand stories box, but he did it because he cares about this family.”
“And you.”
She nodded, not surprised that Great-Aunt Tildy knew exactly what had happened to the thousand stories box. “I hope you are right. I think it is time I found out.”
“Yes, it is.” Holding out Lianne’s cloak, she said, “Hyett said something about the Pacific Shadow.”
Lianne took it, smiling. Trust her great-aunt to wheedle information out of Hyett. “Thank you, Great-Aunt Tildy.”
Her great-aunt kissed her cheek. “Maybe you are learning at last, child.”
In spite of herself, Lianne flinched as she looked at the drawer where the papers from the thousand stories box were hidden. The young man had learned what he needed to and had won the love of the fox’s daughter. Maybe she could still win Bryce’s heart.
Lianne shivered as she went out into the raw day. Leaves clung to the ground as she hurried down the street, skirting the puddles. Although Hyett had offered to have the carriage brought around when she had hurried down the stairs, she did not want to delay even the time it would take for that. Pulling her cloak’s hood over her bonnet to keep her head from being pelted by the drips from the trees, she was not surprised that she met few people. Today was a good day to remain inside and warm.
The wind was unmerciful as she neared the harbor. Even in the sheltered cove, white caps topped each wave. The ships swayed to the frantic rhythm. She bent her head into the wind that sought to force her back up the hill.
As she paused on the rocks leading down to the pier and held her cloak tightly around her, she saw the crew working on the Pacific Shadow. It was a familiar sight, which eased the constricting bands of fear choking her more on every breath. She did not want to imagine that it was too late to salvage anything of her life with Bryce. She went down to the wooden wharf. The water tossed against the underpinnings accompanied her steps along warped boards. The wind buffeted her, and she grasped one of the wooden posts sticking up from the water.
She heard shouts and curses. At the next wharf, The Pearl strained against her moorings. Activity was feverish as her crew got her ready for unloading before the next storm.
Beyond The Pearl, the Pacific Shadow appeared awkward and uncomfortable so close to shore. Without her beautiful canvas blossoming with the wind, her bare poles were lonely. A sensation close to sympathy swelled through Lianne as she stared at the ship.
How had boards and canvas altered her life in more ways than she wished to count? The Shadow Line had brought so many complications to her life, but she could not wish she had never seen the China Shado
w. The three ships of the Shadow Line were a part of her heritage past and present, for they were also a part of the man she loved.
Lianne pushed her way through the wind. She smiled at a man who was unpacking his rod and creel to go fishing off the wharf. “Pretty rough weather for fishing, isn’t it?”
He did not look at her. “Not as bad as coming around Cape Horn.”
“That is rough sailing.” Lianne’s smile broadened when she recognized the man. When she had come to Storm-haven on the China Shadow, Willis had not been much more than a gangly boy. The past four years had changed him into a muscular man. “Willis, have you seen Captain Trevarian?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“About.”
Lianne’s brows lowered. Willis had chatted like a monkey when they had sailed from Canton. Maybe his strong muscles were not the only thing different about him.
Continuing along the wharf, she called to two more sailors she recognized from the Sleek Shadow. They did not reply, looking hastily away. When she walked toward them, they scurried away in the opposite direction.
Dread sifted through her. Had Chester Simmons already begun spreading his vicious rumors that she was not Samuel Catherwood’s daughter? That made no sense, because he wanted her to pay him to remain silent. Yet, she could imagine no other reason that the usually garrulous sailors were now as silent as corpses. If they had heard Mr. Simmons’s story, they might believe that she had betrayed Captain Catherwood and the Shadow Line.
As Bryce believed she had.
No!
He did not believe that. He had destroyed her thousand stories box to protect her from the questions that no one in Stormhaven could answer, but so many could speculate about. She sighed. How could she fault him for not giving her his heart when she could not trust him with hers? But she did trust him. She had to find him and tell him that.
By the time she had reached the Pacific Shadow, Lianne was no closer to figuring out where Bryce might be. Another sailor along the wharf had given her no more than a grunt in reply to her greeting before walking away. She climbed to the deck, enjoying the rocking that once had made her ill. As her brother had assured her, she had learned to love the motion of a ship beneath her feet, as all the Catherwoods did.
Again, on the ship, she found that no one wanted to talk to her. The answers she got were terse and told her nothing except that Bryce was not aboard the ship.
Where could he be? He had said he was coming here. As she went back toward shore, not sure where else to look for him, she was surprised when Willis called out to her.
“Yes?” she shouted back, hoping the wind did not steal her answer.
He crooked his finger to her. When she neared, he said, “I know you are worried about the captain. He came here a while back and then went to deal with another problem he has on shore.”
“Another problem?”
“Don’t know more than that, Mrs. Trevarian.” He glanced around with a guilty expression, as if he should not have told her even this much.
“Thank you.” She forced a smile. “Good luck with your fishing.”
He grunted a response, his shoulders hunched. She suspected he was sorry he had said what he had. As she went back to shore, her smile became more sincere. That Willis had spoken to her—even this little—meant that he still acknowledged her as a partner in Trevarian Enterprises.
Climbing back onto the rocks along the shore, Lianne glanced toward the house. Other business? The only business Trevarian Enterprises had on shore was the mill, but Bryce had paid that little attention, leaving it all to her. Maybe he had wanted to warn Mr. Bergen about the potential rumors. Mr. Bergen was still in Boston, but Bryce might not know that, because he had been focused completely on the ships … and her.
In spite of herself, she smiled as she thought of how he had delighted her last night. They must put an end to this before they lost that rapture.
That thought spurred Lianne’s feet along the damp road. She wished she had brought the carriage as she turned her back on the harbor and the village. The walk to the mill was not a long one, but the day was so unseasonably cold.
Wisps of fog writhed along the ground, tormented by the wind that refused to let them settle anywhere. Smoke from the chimneys of Stormhaven followed her out of the village and choked any fresh scents from the sea. Beneath her feet, the once multi-colored beauty of the fallen leaves were becoming a brownish-gray mat concealing the puddles. When she stepped into a deep one, she grimaced.
The day was getting worse. If she was not the fool Bryce had called her, she would turn around and go back to the house. She could wait for him to return there. She increased her pace along the road. She might be a fool, but she was not a coward. Clearing the air between her and Bryce could not wait.
A shiver inched along her back like a drip of rain from the low sky. What was ahead for them would not be easy, so they must be allies, as they had been when they fled from Sun Niang’s brothel to the harbor. The questions Simmons intended to ask publicly would refocus the jealousy of Stormhaven on her again. It was not easy to remember how angry she had been at Bryce for wrecking her betrothal to Weston Newberry, for now she understood why he had done what he had. Now she was grateful. Her one attempt to attend a meeting of the Stormhaven Abolitionists’ Society had shown her how vicious self-righteous bigotry could be. That prejudice had tempered, especially since the plans for the mill had been announced. This would bring their biases to the forefront again.
Lianne was so glad to see the old mill. She did not slow to look at the new rafters that were visible through the upper windows where glass had not yet been set in place. Pleased that the door had been set on new hinges weeks ago, she shut it behind her, closing out the wind that howled its protests up under the roof.
Her footsteps made a hollow sound as she crossed the main room. Lighting several lanterns that were hanging on the walls, for the shadows refused to relinquish the mill, she looked around. Everything was set for when the looms arrived. Even the corners were clean of the debris that had gathered while the mill was abandoned. The walls had been scraped and whitewashed. Chairs were stacked by one wall, and unopened cases on another. She knew they contained the parts needed to start the looms. Bales of cotton filled half the space, growing damp as it waited to be woven into cloth.
“Bryce?” she called, as she took down one lamp to carry with her.
Her voice echoed as her footfalls had, but no answer came back. Leaving the silent mill behind her, she went along the narrow ell opening off the back of the ground floor. The corridor was filled with muddy footprints, and she smiled. Obviously, some work was being done on this cold day, although she had not seen any workmen about. Looking back, she saw her own smaller prints amid the mud.
“Bryce?” she called, although she did not expect an answer.
She went into the small room which had been set up as an office. Mr. Bergen’s desk was nearly lost beneath a mountain of papers. She rubbed her cold hands together. Staring at the dark clouds climbing the horizon, she sighed. She could not stay long, if she wanted to get home before it stormed. She did not envy the crew of The Pearl, who would be working in the rain and wind.
Lianne sighed. Lingering at the mill in hopes that Bryce would come here was silly. He probably had gone back to the house or to visit one of the other captains. At this very moment, while she was shivering in this dank office, he might be sitting with a friend before a warm hearth and enjoying some aged brandy.
The wind tore at the walls, resounding through the mill, as Lianne closed the office door behind her. It sounded as if a phantom army marched through the open space. She shivered. She had enough troubles filling her life. She did not need to imagine more trouble. Blowing out the lamp, she hung it back in its place on the wall.
Her steps faltered when she saw a shadow move in front of her in the mill. Was it just the motion of a tree outside or something else? She kept walking toward the door.
>
“Good afternoon, daughter.”
Lianne whirled. “Mr. Simmons!”
“You have been very foolish.” He stepped out of the shadows and walk toward her with slow deliberation. “You and your husband, who is bragging how he destroyed the box your mother gave you.”
“Bryce said that?” She inched toward the door, but he stepped in front of her with a speed that startled her. “You must be mistaken.”
“I know what I heard with my own ears.”
“You are lying. Bryce would never speak to you of that.”
“So it’s true?” he demanded, pouncing on her words. “He did destroy the box, so he could keep anyone from suspecting the truth and taking the Shadow Line from him.”
She kneaded her hands together, so he would not be able to see how they trembled. “My father left the Shadow Line to me and Bryce.”
“Now you are lying. It is known throughout Stormhaven that Samuel Catherwood gave the Shadow Line to his daughter. Trevarian got his hands on it only because he married you. Now, when the truth becomes known, he will be sorry he married a half-Chinese daughter of a Chinese harlot to gain control of the Shadow Line.”
“Maybe you believe the truth is known by you, but you are deluded. I was there when my father’s will was read, and I know what it said.”
She moved away from the door, but kept more than an arm’s length between her and Mr. Simmons. There was a back door just beyond the office. She might be able to reach it. Once outside, she could outrun his bandy legs.
He caught her arm and pushed her against the wall. “You fool! That is what Trevarian called you before he saw a chance to get himself an heiress. A fool!”
Lianne tried to think of a calming response, but anything she said was sure to provoke him more. She might as well speak the truth. “You are the fool! You cannot prove that I am your daughter.”
“Maybe not, but can you prove you are Samuel Catherwood’s daughter?”
She edged away, then screamed when he struck her so hard she collapsed to her knees. As he laughed, she remembered how Great-Aunt Tildy had told her that Mother had been beaten by this horrid man.
The Captain's Pearl Page 19
