Tao opened the last box while Jade noted aloud how strange it was that this particular box had none of the mysterious characters painted on it. They even lifted it up to look underneath, but it was devoid of any markings whatsoever.
As the top came off, Jade could not help but peer over Tao’s shoulder at the contents. They were stacked beneath an old, moth-eaten blanket that had seen better days. Jade recognized none of the jumbled things as having belonged to her grandfather.
She reached down and gingerly touched one of the jars on top. “What do you make of this?”
Tao lifted out a lidded basket and opened it to reveal what appeared to be a three-armed glass bulb that was inverted on legs.
“What is that?” she asked, tilting her head to study it from a fresh angle.
“A still. Alchemists use them to heat, boil, or transmute one substance into another.” He carefully replaced the still and hastily closed the lid as if he had just opened Pandora’s box. “These things belong to the wizard. They are his tools.”
As Jade stared down at the box, a terrible realization hit her. “If these are his things . . . ”
“I fear the man is dead,” Tao said sadly. “If he was not, then he would surely have taken these with him, wherever he is.”
“Let’s take this box and hide it in my room before we move the others.”
“Will you tell the detective what you have found?”
She hesitated for a moment as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “Not just yet, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell Lieutenant Chang about this. I want to go through this box carefully before I turn it over to him. I feel so responsible, even though I had nothing to do with my father’s scheme, that I would like to help solve part of this puzzle myself. Do you understand?”
He took a while before he answered, as if he was weighing her sincerity. “I think so.”
She stood at one end of the box and waited for Tao to grab the other. “Well, are you ready to help me get this upstairs?”
“The oxen are slow, but the earth is patient,” Tao said with a smile.
JASON STRIPPED OFF his gloves outside the service porch, doffed his hat, and used it to beat the trail dust from his pants. His vest hung open; his shirt was sweat stained beneath his long duster. He ran a hand through his hair, and then mentally scoffed at such unusual concern over his appearance. His gut tensed as he reached for the doorknob.
As he swung open the back door, he paused to look around. He knew instantly that Jade was still there—a milk pitcher of flowers sat in the center of the kitchen worktable, and the aroma of roasting poultry filled the air. Utensils and pans were out in plain sight, and the table was set for two.
He frowned as he stared down at the two place settings, then closed the door and proceeded down the hall. As he neared the foyer, J.T. heard voices and tried to place the distinctive male tone that mingled with one that was definitely Jade’s. He entered the foyer without making a sound and stopped dead when he caught sight of Jade and a handsome Chinese man struggling to carry a heavy crate up the stairs. Not yet one third of the way up, they carefully balanced the heavy load between them.
The striking young man was dressed as most of the Chinese J.T. had seen—in a baggy white jacket and wide, loose-fitting pants. What amazed him was that Jade was dressed in much the same fashion. Her clothing was dark—navy he guessed, not quite black. Unlike the man’s unadorned jacket, hers was quilted and shot through with gold thread. Her hair was a riot of rich color, a vibrant red-gold against the dark clothing. Her hair hung loose and flowing, the way he liked it best, untamed by combs or ribbons.
He watched in silence while the pair struggled and laughed together. They had not even heard him come in. His heart lurched when Jade suddenly turned her merry eyes in his direction. Her carefree expression vanished immediately. She nearly let go of her end of the box, but caught herself and hung on. The young man turned to see what had distracted her and immediately sobered. He studied Jason warily, his almond eyes narrowing, his gaze intense.
J.T. strode to the stairs.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
Jade stared down at him, her heart pounding nearly out of her breast, her face suffused with warmth. As always, he seemed larger than life, a natural force that somehow dwarfed his surroundings. And as always, she felt her blood stir at the mere sight of him. She tried to find her voice.
Tao looked to her for direction.
“It’s all right,” she said. “This is my husband.” Then, to Jason, “We’re moving this crate up to my room.”
“Your room?” He arched a brow.
“As opposed to your room. That is, unless you object.”
He didn’t know what to say. Relief at finding her still in residence swamped him. He watched her poised on the stairs, indecision playing across her finely sculpted features. Finally, he said, “What I object to is your carrying such a heavy box.” He nodded toward the servant. “Who’s this?”
Was this the man she was to have supper with in the kitchen? He did not really believe Jade was the type to take up with a servant, but then he had not believed she would try to dupe him into marriage, and she had.
“This is my houseboy, Tao Ling.”
“And what exactly does your houseboy do?” Jason looked Tao up and down.
Jade stood her ground. “Anything I ask him to do.”
Ignoring her frigid tone, he asked, “What is all this?” He indicated the boxes stacked about the foyer.
“Those are my things.”
“I wasn’t aware of the fact that you had any things. Do these contain the famous Chinese pieces you sold yourself for?”
Jade steeled herself and indicated with a nod that Tao was to back down the stairs. When they reached the floor, they set the box down gently. “You may go, Tao. I wish to speak to my husband alone.”
Jason could see that she was seething beneath her cool exterior and was amazed at her ability to appear calm. The Chinese balked at her order. Jason crossed his arms.
“Go,” she told Tao. “I’ll be fine.”
“I will wait in the kitchen. If you need me, all you need to do is call.”
She nodded as he slipped past Jason.
Jason watched the man until he disappeared down the hallway. “He thinks he has to defend you from me?”
“No. I think he has to defend me from you.”
“And you think that boy can handle me?” Jason looked dubious.
“I know he can.”
More than the box on the floor stood between them. Jade watched him warily. He looked dusty and tired, his deep-set eyes marred by dark circles. Good, she thought, he hasn’t gotten much more sleep than I. She waited to hear what Jason had to say, but he looked as indecisive as she felt.
Finally, when he looked away he said, “I don’t intend to apologize for what happened on our wedding night.”
“I didn’t expect you to,” she said.
“What did you expect?”
I expected to live happily ever after.
She wondered just what she could say in answer to his question. What exactly had she expected? For him to have initiated her into the act of lovemaking with gentleness and caring even after he believed the worst of her?
“I expected just about what I got,” she said.
His gaze cut back to her.
She met his stare, unflinching.
“I didn’t rape you,” he ground out, as if he had to remind her, or perhaps reassure himself.
“No,” she agreed. “You didn’t have to. I was more than willing to live up to my part of our bargain.”
“Bargain? Is that what you thought we were getting into?”
She shook her head and the sight of her sunset hair rippling down her back, b
rushing her hips, drew his attention. “No. I thought we were getting married, pure and simple.”
“There’s nothing pure or simple about all this.” He suddenly looked exhausted.
“Arguing isn’t going to accomplish anything. You look tired, Jason. Why don’t you go to your room and I’ll send Tao Ling up with water for your bath. Have you eaten?”
“Are we to go on then as if nothing has happened? Is that what you want?” He wanted nothing more than to follow her suggestion, but not with so much still unsettled between them. With his hands shoved in his pockets, he waited for her answer.
She held her breath for a moment as she tried to put her feelings into words. Then, she looked down at her hands. “I want what you want, Jason. If you decide to throw me out of here, that’s your prerogative, but I fully intend to live up to the vows I made on our wedding night.” She drew herself up and met his penetrating stare. “With one exception.”
His smile twisted. “Let’s hear it.”
“I will not be manhandled again, nor will I allow you to use me the way you did on our wedding night.”
Without a word, J.T. brushed by her. Jade held her breath as he paused with one foot on the stairs. Jason turned to face her again, reached out and took her chin in his hand, tilted her face to his, and stared down into the depths of her emerald eyes. He was afraid to dwell too long on her lips, on the luxurious gold-tipped lashes that rimmed her eyes or the spattering of freckles across her nose. “Allow?” His husky voice was laced with sarcasm.
Fear made her weak. She didn’t know what she was more afraid of, Jason or her own reaction to him. Jade willed herself not to cry out.
An almost imperceptible rustle of clothing caused J.T. to look away from her for a moment. He discovered Tao Ling standing an arm’s length away. Jason had not even heard the man approach until he was nearly upon him. Tao stood poised with both arms raised, moving them in circles at cross angles to one another. His bizarre, defensive stance gave Jason pause. The servant appeared to be in a trance. His eyes were intent on Jason, who didn’t know whether to laugh or take a swing at the Chinese. Pounds lighter, two inches shorter, Tao Ling did not seem to be any sort of a match for a man of Jason’s stature. Still, his eyes held a definite warning that gave Jason pause. He released Jade’s chin.
“What’s he doing?” J.T. asked her.
The tense moment passed. Jade was hard-pressed to hide a smile, but did. “He is a kung fu master.”
“Ah.” Jason said, still staring at Tao. “What’s a kung fu master?”
“Tao is trained in an ancient way of fighting. He can kill with his bare hands or feet.”
Jason swung his gaze back to Jade. “Would you let him kill me?” His eyes bored into her.
Resolutely, Jade shook her head, stepped away from Jason, and folded her arms across her breast. “No, but maiming isn’t out of the question.”
It was J.T.’s turn to hide a smile as he stared down at his defiant wife and then at her strange bodyguard. It wasn’t exactly the homecoming he had anticipated, but then again, nothing that had occurred since he’d met Jade Douglas had been what he expected. Dismissing them both, he shrugged and started back up the stairs.
Tao relaxed his stance and bowed to Jade, but refused to leave her side.
“I’ll take you up on that bath,” Jason said over his shoulder. “And don’t move another box. I’ll do it.”
Jade sent Tao to heat the water.
Jason paused near the top of the stairs to gaze down at her. “I should warn you—if and when I decide to bed you again, no one is going to stop me.”
Jade waited until J.T. had disappeared down the hall and then, weak with relief, she sat down on a crate. Nothing had been settled, but at least he had not thrown her out into the streets. She still had a chance to convince him that she had married him because she loved him, that she had not simply duped him into an alliance. Seeing him tonight, feeling the rush of need that swept over her at the sight of him, only made her that much more determined to try and win back his trust, and then his love.
She looked up at the empty staircase and whispered, “If and when you bed me again it’ll be on my own terms, Mr. Harrington. Just you wait and see.”
Chapter Sixteen
A wife should excel in four things . . .
Virtue, speech, person, and needlework.
IGNORING JASON’S curt order to leave the boxes until he could help move them, Jade had Tao help her carry the alchemist’s possessions up to her room. She tried to dismiss the fact that Jason had explicitly objected to her moving the heavy goods, but could not help but wonder if he was just being gentlemanly or if he truly cared about her. With Tao’s help she set the box on the far side of the bed, then picked up her brushes, ink, and paper, and set out to copy some of the characters from the crates downstairs.
“Mrs. Harrington?” Tao interrupted her in the middle of copying the third set of markings. “There is a man at the back door who says he works for Mr. Harrington. He says Mr. Harrington wanted to see him when he finished with the horses.”
Kneeling before a particularly large crate, Jade set down her brush and stood up. “Thank you, Tao. I’ll go see what I can do while you see to Jason’s bath.”
Hat in hand, an older Mexican stood on the service porch. Jade noted there was not a touch of gray in the dark hair that had been flattened by his hat. His thick, drooping mustache was equally black, his eyes a deep rich brown. He introduced himself as Xavier Rojas, and told her in heavily accented English that he had hired on as Jason’s hand.
“Did he say where you were to stay?”
“There is a room in the barn for a stablehand, one where I can be near the horses. I have already put my things there, but if the senora wants me to move?”
Jade brightened. The less confrontations she had with Jason, the better. “That is fine, Xavier. Are you hungry?”
“Si, señora. Tengo hambre.”
“Come back in an hour and you can eat dinner with Tao, the cook, here in the kitchen.”
“Gracias, señora.”
“Señor, wait.” Jade stopped him before he left the porch. If she was going to gain Jason’s trust and affection again, she needed to learn about things she could discuss with him. “Will you show me Jason’s new horses?”
Xavier’s smile widened. He shoved on his sand-colored sombrero and led the way as Jade studied his clothing. Heavy chamois panels tied at the waist protected his trousers, while ornate garters held leather leggings on below his knees. He was much shorter than she was, but he carried himself with pride as he opened the door to the stables.
The interior was cool and dark, silent except for the sounds of its inhabitants, who occasionally stamped, snorted, and whinnied to each other. Jade jumped when one of them kicked the side of the stall nearest her.
“It’s all right, señora,” Xavier said. “The golden ones will not hurt you. Come, see the finest of the lot. El Sol.”
She followed him to the end of the building and then stopped a goodly distance from the end of the stall and stared at the beautiful creature housed there. The horse’s white mane hung along its magnificent neck. His hide looked as rich as the finest velvet; the deep golden color gave testimony to his name, The Sun. El Sol pushed his muzzle toward her and bared his teeth.
Jade jumped back.
“La señora is afraid of him?” Xavier sounded amazed at her timidity.
Jade nodded. “I never liked horses very well.”
He held El Sol’s head and beckoned her near. “Come, señora, come and meet the golden one and then the others your esposo paid for so dearly. He is a proud of El Sol. You should be, too.”
Tentatively, Jade reached out and touched the soft muzzle. El Sol did not flinch, but watched her with wise, dark eyes.
“El Sol will h
ave many children,” Xavier predicted. “He is strong as a bull. He makes a good mount for the señor. If you want to know him better, bring a carrot or an apple with you next time, and soon he will look forward to your visits.”
Afraid to stand near the massive animal much longer, Jade stepped away and smiled her thanks at Xavier.
“Anytime, señora. If you would like me to teach you to ride, I will be happy to do so. I taught all my children before they could walk—I can teach you.”
“Thank you, Xavier. It’s certainly something to think about,” she said before she turned away and whispered to herself, “but not for very long.”
J.T. LEANED BACK against the rim of the tub and drew on his thin cigar as he let the warm water ease his trail-weary muscles. He blew a smoke ring, then another, then closed his eyes and tried to banish the provocative images of his wife from his mind.
How many men had to talk themselves out of taking their own wife to bed? he wondered. He couldn’t help but smile around the cigar clenched between his teeth. She’d made herself quite clear, even had the reed-thin Chinese houseboy to back up her words. Were they bluffing? He’d never heard of anyone who appeared so defenseless who knew how to kill a man with his bare hands. And hadn’t she said feet, too? Well, he’d never eaten Chinese food before he came to San Francisco either, and considering how hungry he had been afterward, he could see how a race of starved men might just devise a way to kill each other with their bare hands.
He heard a slight knock on the outer door to his room and called through the bathroom doorway, “Come in.” He suspected it was Tao Ling again with the clean towels he had promised.
When he didn’t hear any response, Jason called out again. “Come in!”
“I am in.”
His eyes flew open at the lyrical sound of Jade’s voice outside the open door. She was standing far enough away that she could not see more than the lazy trail of smoke from his cigar and his head and shoulders above the rim of the tub, but she was close enough for him to see that she was blushing a high color. She held a tall vase of flowers in her hand. Folded towels hung over her arm and her eyes were as big around as two moons.
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