by Rue Allyn
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” She waved the roll of bills from side to side.
“Ah, si.” He took the money. “You are most gracious.”
Finally he slipped out the door.
• • •
“Leave us,” the Chinaman ordered his bodyguards.
The four men split; two went to the back room. The other two took up positions near the shop’s front door.
“Madame, will you now explain exactly why we want this miserable shop and why we have paid to rent the building instead of simply taking it?”
Cerise stared at the man who was her nominal partner. They both knew the partnership went only as far as it benefited either of them. “Consider the rental an investment. Santiago has his uses, but he would be much less cooperative without his shop to hold over him. Besides, we need this shop so I can to deliver Whitson’s sister to you as a gift.”
“What would I want with the woman?”
She could not understand how the Chinaman had gained the power he held. While he possessed money and men, he lacked vision. Satisfying his enormous appetite for sex and pain consumed him. Cerise found him distasteful in the extreme, but he was in the best position to help her achieve her goals. She would drop him the minute she no longer had any use for him. Better, she might indulge herself in destroying him and his delusions that he mattered. She smiled at the thought.
“What do you want with any woman?”
A gleam of lust in his eyes was the only expression the Chinaman allowed himself. “How soon can you deliver her?”
“Within two weeks. Sooner if the information I’ve spread about reaches her.”
“Then I will assemble a shipment for Singapore. Do you have any other merchandise you would like me to ship?”
Cerise considered. The Chinaman was the best way to rid herself of whores who became troublesome. “One or two. I will send them to you with a message, once I am certain that Whitson’s sister has fallen into my net.”
“I will take my usual commission.”
“For Whitson’s sister, I am willing to split the take fifty-fifty.”
A blink indicated the Chinaman’s surprise. “You expect so much from her sale?”
“She is quite attractive in her way, nearly as lovely as her sister. Properly prepared, the Alden woman will bring enough to reimburse us both for what her sister cost us.”
“And that pleases you.”
“As I am certain it pleases you.”
“Coin is an empty return for vengeance. What of the photographer?”
“I’m working on that. But be sure to keep all of the items you strip off of her sister. We can use those to gain the photographer’s cooperation once we find her.”
“Perhaps you could arrange to be present when we take the woman. Then you could have the items and the pleasure of seeing her stripped.”
“That would be pleasant.” Cerise smiled again. Maybe the Chinaman had more imagination than she believed. In which case, she’d best watch her back. At this moment he might be planning her destruction just as she contemplated his.
• • •
A soft knock sounded on Edith’s bedroom door.
“Come in.” She didn’t look up.
“Missee, you okay?” Tsung came into the room and shut the door then crossed to stand beside Edith. “Lunchtime long past. Mista Dutch home in two hours, need dinner.”
Edith nodded but continued to stare at the photographs on the bed.
“Why you look at pictures of women with no clothes? These not good for respectable lady.”
“I understand, Tsung, but my sister made these pictures.”
“You joking.”
“No. See here on the back.” Edith turned one of the framed photographs and showed Tsung the small tag that read “Photographed by F. Lyn Whitson. Frame courtesy of Santiago Framing.” An address completed the information on the tag.
“Sister’s name Whitson, not Alden?”
“Kiera left Boston several years ago to escape from our grandfather. Before she left, she told me she would use the name F. Lyn Whitson so Grandfather wouldn’t find her. That name led me to look for her in San Francisco.
“Tsung not understand why sister run away from family. Family more precious than gold. Grandfathers wise, share wisdom, help granddaughters.”
Edith put her arm around Tsung’s shoulders. “I only wish our grandfather was like that. I can’t explain why he isn’t. I can only say that he is a very cruel and selfish man.”
Tsung shook her head. “You come to San Francisco to find sister?”
How could Edith explain the absurd terms of Grandfather’s will and what she must do to overturn them? The idea of conceiving a child just to inherit and avoid marriage was cold-hearted in the extreme and absurd when she was already wed. Tsung was trustworthy, but with her strong feelings about family, Edith feared that Tsung would take matters into her own hands. The woman was nothing if not decisive and determined. Look at what happened when Tsung decided to help retrieve the trunks. She’d also been pushing Edith and Dutch together at every opportunity. Edith hadn’t minded because being intimate with Dutch would give her lasting memories of an unforgettable man and his place in her life.
“What you thinking, Missee?”
“I’m thinking that I need to go to that framing shop to ask what they might know there about Kiera’s current whereabouts.”
Tsung took the framed photo and peered at the address on the tag. “Shop long way from here on other side of city. Too late to go today.”
“Then I’ll go first thing tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I’d better start dinner.”
“Going to shop not good idea.” Tsung handed the picture back to Edith.
“Why ever not?” She placed the picture along with the others into her steamer trunk.
“To get to shop, must go to bad part of town.”
“Oh.” Edith traced the edge of the trunk lid. “Do you think the owner would come to me?”
“If owner respectable, yes.”
“Then I’ll send a note. Could you see that it gets delivered?”
The other woman nodded. “Lijun go.”
“Thank you, Tsung. I’ll write the note and give it to you when I come down to help with dinner. Now I have one last favor to ask.”
“Tsung do anything for Missee.”
Edith blushed. She was taking tremendous advantage of the Chinese woman’s friendship, but what alternative did she have? Dutch was rarely home, and even Edith knew not to ask favors of a man when trying to seduce him.
“Do you think your family could sell the things in that other trunk for me? I’d give them a commission.”
Tsung looked into the trunk that had been Kiera’s and nodded. “We sell. No commission needed.”
“Thank you.” Gratitude watered her eyes.
Together they closed that trunk. Then Edith hugged Tsung before the other woman went downstairs to start preparing dinner. Dutch would be home to eat for once, and she needed to take full advantage of this rare opportunity.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Garden fresh beans littered the kitchen table. Edith gave a bean a desultory snap and tossed it toward the bowl on the table. She missed. She didn’t care. What good did it do to cook heavenly meals, scent herself with cocoa oil, even be willing to act in a most unseemly and forward manner all to gain the attention of a man who never stayed home long enough to be seduced? A man she was legally married to.
Contrary to expectation, Dutch hadn’t come home the night after his father’s visit. Nor did he return the next three until after she retired. Even worse, Edith had received no reply from the owner of the shop where Kiera’s pictures had been framed. She’d finally determined to go on her own. The owner cou
ldn’t ignore her if she stood in front of him. However, every time she attempted to leave the house, one of Tsung’s relatives arrived to ask questions about the sale of one or more items from Kiera’s trunk. Edith would have thought the Tsang family conspired to keep her at home, if she could have imagined any reason for them to do so.
The kitchen door opened and closed. Edith raised her head, hopeful that Dutch had finally come home to rest from his searches for Trey, but only a bundle-ladened Tsung stood inside the door. “Oh,” she said, “It’s just you.” Edith lowered her head and snapped another bean.
“Not just Tsung, Missee Edie.” The Chinese woman stepped closer.
Edith looked up once more. She drew her brows together. “Do you have more questions about selling the clothing?”
“No, Missee, but Tsung bring secret weapon.” She held out a linen wrapped bundle.
“I beg your pardon? What could I possibly want with a weapon?”
“Tsung notice that you and Mista Dutch not share bed, even though you married couple. Tsung wonder, you still want Mista Dutch?”
Edith considered. She needed Dutch like she needed water. But did she want him? What woman would want such a temperamental, uncooperative, alluring, sinfully talented man? She shook her head. Need, she understood. Want? Want was confusing beyond belief. She’d stick with need. Besides, if she consummated the marriage, Dutch might feel justified in denying her the annulment. She sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“How complicated? He want you. You want him. Yes? We talk about you want Mista Dutch before. You change mind? Why you marry Mista Dutch?”
Edith shook her head. “I can’t say why, but it just isn’t that simple.”
“Tsung understand. You think Mista Dutch stay away because he want you. He not trust himself when he near you.”
Edith snorted. The housemaid had no idea how far off the mark she was. “Mista Dutch is away so much because he is trying to rescue his brother and help me find my sister.”
Tsung nodded. “Yes-yes that true, but Mista Dutch too close to problem. Need take break from worry. Need you. You need him.”
“I know that, Tsung, but I can’t force Dutch to rest. Besides, I have my own troubles.”
“Married couple share troubles. You search for sister, but you rest. Now you take time convince Mista Dutch to rest. Take time for love Mista Dutch.”
“If I thought he’d cooperate, I’d do it.”
“You use secret weapon, he cooperate.”
“The man has to be around for anything to be effective.”
“You not worry. I make sure Mista Dutch home for dinner tonight.”
“Assuming you do work this miracle, Tsung. How am I supposed to take advantage of it?”
“With this.” Tsung unrolled the bundle exposing the shimmer of crimson satin and the flash of gold.
“What in the world?”
“You wear secret weapon. Mista Dutch not able to resist.”
Edith lifted the supple cloth and examined the garment. “You want me to wear this?” A row of three small knotted buttons slanted across the upper left shoulder of the narrow, bright red column of cloth from collar to shoulder. Small cap sleeves attached to the bodice just saved the gown, if it could be called that, from being sleeveless.
Praying that she would find a hidden fold, Edith examined the inside of the robe’s front opening. She discovered nothing but two satin ribbons and some of the finest stitchery she’d ever seen.
Closing the robe, she handed it back to Tsung. “I cannot possibly wear that.”
“Why?” Tsung’s brimming eyes belied her steady tone. She was hurt.
“I’m sorry, Tsung.” Edith clasped the younger woman’s hand. “I appreciate your wish to help, but beautiful as this garment is, wearing it is out of the question. There is no room for undergarments.”
Tsung giggled.
Edith had to smile for the combination of giggles and tears coming from the stoic Tsung was truly laughable.
The Chinese servant raised a hand and patted Edith on the shoulder. “You silly woman. No need underclothes for what you want from Mista Dutch.”
Edith felt her face heat. She opened her mouth then closed it. Tsung was right. But could I be so bold? Scenting myself with cocoa oil was one thing. The shimmering red robe was quite another.
Edith wanted Dutch and the memories he could give her very much. And Tsung offered an answer to her prayers. Soon she would leave to follow Kiera’s trail. There wouldn’t be many more chances with Dutch.
“All right, Tsung. I’ll do it.”
“Good, good. I bring special herbs for your bath and others to put in Mista Dutch’s dinner.” She gave a toothy grin. “He not able to resist you.”
Edith fervently hoped so. She’d had no new word from Mae, but Grandfather could already be dead. Time was a luxury she could ill afford.
• • •
Frustrated and weary to the bone, Dutch shut the door behind him and the rumbles of thunder that presaged a nasty storm. Tonight even the delectable scents from the kitchen could not stir his interest. The unsettled nature of his marriage with Edith preyed on his mind. If that weren’t enough, he spent twenty out of every twenty-four hours searching for Trey while tending to the multitude of business details that could not wait, even for a missing brother. On top of all of that, he worried about protecting Edith and his friends from the Chinaman.
Normally, Dutch found much pleasure and a great deal of comfort in the thousand small but vital actions that kept Trahern-Smiley Import & Export operating. Those details fostered successful transactions, and each transaction was one step farther from the brothels of his childhood. He would not go back. Nor would he allow Trey to be dragged into that life. Not while Dutch had breath in his body.
For once he didn’t have a late night meeting. Tomorrow he would confront his father again and an informant who claimed he knew where Trey was. Dutch held out as much hope of real information as he did that no rain would follow the increasing thunder outside.
“Good evening, Mista Dutch. You look much tired. Need good food.”
“I’m so tired I don’t know if I can stay awake long enough to eat.”
He thought he saw Tsung’s unblinking expression flinch. Before he could ask what was wrong, She grabbed his arm and dragged him into the dining room.
“No worry, Mista Dutch must eat. Keep up strength. Relax. Take easy tonight. Missee Edie and Tsung take care of everything. Sit. Eat. Talk. Feel much, much better, soon. Tsung have own dinner with Lijun in kitchen.”
She disappeared through the door to the kitchen, leaving Dutch to stare at his surroundings. What in Hades has happened to my dining room?
Lightning flashed on the other side of the room’s single window.
Dozens of silken cushions scattered the area where his precious mahogany table had once stood. Low oriental tea stands, laden with a variety of food and drink replaced the four chairs. Incense heavy smoke rose from coals glowing within a clay firepot that resided in the corner nearest the kitchen. The light was so dim, had it not been for the silken sheen of fabric, he would have missed the figure that stood amidst the sultan’s ransom of cushions.
Edith. Dressed in a vibrant red robe of oriental design, decorated with gold dragons. He didn’t need the three knotted buttons slanting above her breast and the thigh high slit to tell him it was a whore’s dress. He’d seen too many during his years in the brothels. Nor did he need the dress to tell him what she had in mind. Lust grabbed his manhood. Panic seized his throat. What did she think she was doing? Did she imagine she could seduce him and still annul the marriage? Anger at her blatant attempt to manipulate him helped Dutch to fight back the rush of desire and scattered weariness like the rising wind now rattling the windows. She needed a lesson she wouldn’t soon forge
t.
Thunder boomed.
“Take it off.”
Edith jumped at the harsh command. “What?”
“You heard me.” He stalked forward until he stood bare inches from her. “You’re my wife. Take that thing off.”
Edith stumbled over an embroidered cushion as she retreated toward the kitchen. “Don’t you want to eat first?” She held a plate of fried oysters in her trembling hands.
“Sure, Sugar.” He cornered her with his body, took the plate from her with one hand, swallowed down an oyster then steadied her with the other hand. “I’ll eat just as soon as you strip down.”
“But … ”
“What’s the matter?” He plucked a second oyster from the plate and swallowed it whole. “Surely, you didn’t expect me to romance you? You set this up real nice. Unfortunately, I’m sorta tired.” He lied. His earlier exhaustion was long gone. He set the plate aside and reached for his belt buckle. “So if we’re gonna do this, we’ll have to do it quick.”
His trousers dropped, catching on his knees.
• • •
Edith couldn’t help herself. She stared at the very prominent bulge tenting his under things. She gave a startled squeak and made to duck beneath his arm.
His hard, warm hand on one shoulder stopped her.
Finally about to get what she needed, she felt suddenly unsure despite the pleasure she knew he could give her. She swallowed and looked up at him.
His lips were smiling, but his eyes were hard, intent on her mouth. His free hand snaked into her tresses, loosening the Chinese ornaments and the elaborate twists that Tsung had insisted on arranging. The heavy auburn locks tumbled about her shoulders as his lips descended to hers.
Soft.
She started in shock. This kiss was so very soft — and hot. Where was the cold anger that threatened retribution? His lips moved on hers. His hand stroked down to her hip, pressing her closer, and she lost all thought. She tasted the hint of chocolate, the smoky tang of oyster, and the stronger flavor of hot-blooded male, all mixed with the scent of wood smoke and incense. Wonder filled her entire being, and she leaned into him, kissing him back.
