A Gentleman's Bargain

by Patricia Waddell

  And love.

  She was blessed to feel so strongly for Garrett. Lots of women went through life never knowing how wonderful love could feel or how intoxicating passion could be. She wondered briefly if Belinda Belton had ever felt her heart skip a beat or her blood run like warm sunshine through her veins when Christopher Landauer kissed her. Somehow, Claire doubted it. Belinda had been raised to know her place and her destination. But Garrett had taught Claire what a woman needed to know. He'd taught her the delights of passion. He'd taught her that her body could offer a man pleasure as well as children.

  Claire concentrated on the memory of the one night she'd had in Garrett's arms, as she sat on the stool so the old woman could braid her damp hair. Once the task was complete, she was tapped on the shoulder.

  A few Chinese words and a wave of the woman's hand and Claire stood up. Her feet were bare and she could see that her ankle was still swollen. The tiled floor felt cool under her feet as she hobbled toward the door.

  The sound of several men, all speaking Chinese, greeted her ears as the door was opened and she stepped outside. The old woman motioned her to turn right and Claire did. Walking gingerly away from the windowless room, Claire studied her prison. There was little to see, except the painted walls and a series of closed doors that shielded rooms filled with secrets.

  The two men who had escorted her from the first room were standing in front of a large double door. Unlike the other doors in the house, this one was painted a bright orange-red, the color of a summer sunset. Gold knobs, circled by vines, etched into the wood and painted a matching gold decorated the center of each door panel. When the men opened the doors, Claire was greeted by the light of what seemed like a hundred flickering candles. The light spilled across the tiled floor, illuminating the way toward a large chair where a man was sitting. Perched atop a dais, the chair looked more like a throne. It was high-backed and the arms were covered in velvet. The man's feet were resting on a small stool. The Chinese woman gave Claire a gentle nudge and she stepped through the doorway, sensing that she was about to be introduced to the man who had kidnapped her.

  The room was large and sparsely furnished. Oriental statues of life-size proportions lined the walls. Claire looked at them, seeing the faces of Chinese gods and goddesses, arranged as if they were there to pay homage to the drug lord of Chinatown. Two gold lions with gleaming ruby eyes framed the sides of the man's chair and shoulder-high urns, painted with elaborate designs, sat in the corners. Incense burned in a brass bowl and the sweet scent burdened the air, irritating Claire's sensitive nose and throat. There were windows, but they were draped in thick red fabric that denied the room any natural light.

  The man waiting for her was just as impressive as the room. Fat around the middle, he was dressed in long black silk trousers that covered his legs. His robe was black silk as well, but high at the collar and adorned with gold braiding and intricate embroidery that attested to the skill of the seamstress. A gold and red dragon decorated one sleeve, while the other was stitched in bright blue and silver and showed a tall-necked bird that Claire didn't recognize.

  The man watched her intently as Claire approached his chair. He seemed to study every detail of her face as she stopped a few feet in front of him. She examined him in return. His head was partially shaved and the hair, beginning at the crown, was pulled back into a skinny braid that was draped over his right shoulder. His features were puffy, matching his body, and his eyes were small and slanted and as black as his clothing. His chin turned into fat just before it disappeared into his stiff collar. He reminded Claire of a plump bullfrog. When he spoke his voice was soft, but menacing, and his words were enunciated in perfect English.

  “May I introduce myself, Miss Aldrich. I am Chen Loo."

  “What do you want of me?” Claire asked, sounding brave while her insides quivered like leaves on an autumn tree.

  “For you to be comfortable until it is time for you to leave my protection,” Chen Loo replied calmly.

  He said something quick and hard in Chinese and one of the men brought Claire a small chair. It was more a stool than a chair, having no back and high, curved arms. The seat was upholstered in dark green fabric. She sat down, thankful to give her throbbing ankle some reprise from the pain that had started anew when she'd walked down the corridor. Tucking her bare feet under the chair, Claire squared her shoulders and looked at the man who smuggled opium in and out of the city of San Francisco.

  “I can assure you, Mr. Loo, being kidnapped isn't comfortable."

  He smiled, but it was a thin, hard smile that didn't reach the rest of his face. “In China, a woman is taught respect and obedience. She does not insult her host."

  “This isn't China,” Claire reminded him, reminding herself at the same time that she couldn't let this man know how much he frightened her. “This is San Francisco, and I was snatched off the street like a loaf of bread off a vendor's wagon. Would you care to tell me why?"

  He waved her insult away and Claire noticed that his fingernails were long. So long, they curved at the ends, making them look like talons. She shivered inwardly, not allowing her face to show her apprehension.

  “The man you are engaged to marry is known for his wealth,” Chen Loo said. “And you appear to hold a certain value to him."

  Claire breathed a silent sigh of relief. If Chen Loo was holding her for ransom, Garrett had been contacted. “Then you plan to hold me prisoner until Mr. Monroe pays you for my safe return?"

  “I am not a violent man, Miss Aldrich, and I am not inclined to harm you. As long as you do as you're told,” he added.

  Claire breathed in and the scent of incense assaulted her nose. The pungent odor was a reminder that she was the prisoner of a different culture. It was of little importance that she was still within the municipality of San Francisco. Chinatown was its own city and Chen Loo was its ruler.

  Her host turned to one of the men waiting by the door. Claire listened with skeptical ears while the two men engaged in a short conversation. The door opened and the man left the room. Nothing more was said until the door was opened once again and Christopher Landauer walked inside.

  He strolled toward her. “Hello, Claire,” he said as if he were greeting her at a Nob Hill reception. “I see my brother has already begun your assimilation. Do you find the clothing comfortable?"

  “Your brother!” Claire looked from the face of the blond hotel owner to the plump Chinaman sitting a few feet away. There was no resemblance whatsoever. One man was tall and blond with light eyes. The other was stout and dark and completely foreign.

  Christopher's laugh had a sarcastic ring. “My half brother,” he explained. “My father was a missionary, but like so many pious men, he had his weak points. One of them was Chen Loo's mother."

  Claire didn't know what to say. Her mind began to race, sorting through the things Garrett had told her about Christopher Landauer and the feelings she'd had on several occasions when the San Francisco gentleman had danced with her. There had always been something unsettling about him, but Claire had never been able to give it a name. She could now—deceit.

  Fear vibrated through her as she lifted her chin and glared at the man who professed to be Garrett's best friend. “Congratulations,” she said. “You're much better at acting than I could ever hope to be, Mr. Landauer."

  Another laugh. “Fooling people isn't difficult, Claire. All you have to do is let them see what they want to see. A feat you've accomplished very well in the short time you've been engaged to Garrett. I believe you even have the talented banker thinking he's in love with you."

  “How much money do you expect Garrett to pay you?” she asked, knowing the more she understood, the better prepared she'd be to deal with what happened next. She straightened in the chair, holding on to the hope that Garrett did indeed love her, while she reevaluated her opinion of Christopher Landauer. The man was a chameleon. A tiger who had the ability to change his stripes, friend and confidant, one mom
ent—enemy, the next.

  “Garrett's more than willing to part company with fifty thousand dollars,” Christopher said matter-of-factly. “And I, of course, am more than willing to accept it."

  “Of course,” Claire replied. “Then what? You can't let me go. I'll tell Garrett everything and you'll be running from the authorities for the rest of your life."

  “I have no intention of running from anyone,” Christopher told her. His blue eyes narrowed into sinister slits. “I have other plans for you, Miss Aldrich. Plans that will give me a great deal of pleasure before I put you on a freighter bound for China."

  “China!"

  “Are you really such an innocent, Miss Aldrich?” he asked, looking at her with a calculated yearning.

  “A virgin knows what rape is,” Claire said, allowing Christopher to think what he would about her relationship with Garrett. “And kidnapping."

  “Ahhh, but I have no intentions of raping you,” he corrected her, then smiled. The expression gave his handsome face a demonic quality and Claire prayed that she could keep up her courage. “Pleasure is an art, Miss Aldrich. An art that the Chinese have perfected over the centuries. By the time you reach Shanghai, you will be well tutored in what will be expected of you. In China, a woman's main function is to please a man, and there are men who will pay well for your fair hair and youthful body."

  He turned and began speaking to his half brother. The two men conversed in Chinese and Claire was amazed at how naturally the language flowed from Christopher's mouth. After a lengthy conversation, Chen Loo stood up. Claire watched him walk from the room and tried to imagine him and Christopher Landauer being fathered by the same man.

  She did her best not to think of the fate Christopher had threatened her with. Claire couldn't let him frighten her any more than she already was. Garrett knew she'd been taken by Chen Loo and she had to believe that he would do everything he could to get her away from the coldhearted Chinaman.

  And the half brother.

  “Is your ankle still bothering you?” Christopher asked, taking the chair his half brother had vacated.

  “Yes. They took my cane and it's difficult to walk without it."

  “A cane can be a very effective weapon,” he replied. “I thought it best to have it removed. If the small amount of walking you've had to do since your arrival has been painful, I apologize."

  “Apologize,” Claire scoffed. “How sincere you sound, Mr. Landauer, especially for a man who plans to steal fifty thousand dollars from his best friend, then sell me off to a Chinese harem."

  “I can see why Garrett is so attracted to you, Miss Aldrich,” he remarked. “He's always liked women with spirit. I, on the other hand, prefer my women docile and obedient. Traits you will have to learn if you expect to survive in China. Once there, the man who buys you will own you the same way he owns everything in his house. He can beat you, or kill you, and be entirely within his rights."

  “I'd rather die than be a whore,” she spit out the terrible word.

  “Ahhh, you misunderstand what is expected of you. You will be a concubine, not a whore. There is a difference, Miss Aldrich. And that difference can give you a comfortable home and a comfortable life once you embrace its principles."

  “The way you've embraced the principles of dishonesty and deception?” she snapped back. “Garrett will kill you for this. And my brother. You know I've found him. Donald won't sit idly by while I'm smuggled out of the city."

  “I know,” he said. “That's why I've arranged a nice little meeting just before dawn. Garrett will be there, of course, with a suitcase full of money. And I intend to invite your brother, as well. Once your benefactor sees that you are well and unharmed, he will turn over the money to Chen Loo."

  Once your benefactor sees that you are well and unharmed.

  Christopher was going to let Garrett see her to convince him that she was being returned in exchange for the money, but if she went back to Garrett, she couldn't be sent to China. That meant ... “You're going to kill them,” Claire blurted out her conclusion. “Garrett and my brother."

  “Unfortunately, yes.” He stood up and stepped off the dais to stand in front of her. “Your brother managed to get too close to Chen Loo. Much closer than we thought anyone could get. My half brother doesn't like his business affairs vulnerable to the scrutiny of outsiders. As for Garrett, he's a stubborn man. If I don't kill him, he'll hound me for the rest of my life. This solution simplifies matters for everyone. Your employer will be dead, along with your brother. You'll have no one to search for you, and as a result, you'll be much more cooperative in assuming your new role in China."

  Claire's stomach knotted and the bitter taste of bile mixed with the taste of hatred.

  “Now, you will be taken to a room with a bed where you can rest,” Christopher said before calling out something in Chinese. “I'll escort you myself."

  Claire struggled against his hands as they reached for her. She kicked and screamed and twisted, but Christopher wasn't a small man and she couldn't prevent him from lifting her into his arms. She hated it. She hated him and his touch.

  When they walked through the door and into the corridor she saw another Caucasian. The man looked familiar and Claire realized he was the other passenger who'd gotten on the trolley in Nob Hill. His face was pale and potted with scars and she shivered on the inside as she realized he must have been the one who had come up behind her in the alley.

  She tried to get free of Christopher's grasp, but he laughed. “I suggest you begin to accept the dire state of your circumstances, Miss Aldrich. I'm not Garrett. I'm not a gentleman. If beating you will quench your insulting behavior, then I will not hesitate to do just that. In fact some women like a taste of discipline before their pleasure. Perhaps we could use the punishment as a test of your potential passion."

  “You're disgusting,” Claire snapped. “Vile and disgusting."

  “And you have a lot to learn,” he replied, unaffected by her outburst. “I thought perhaps my friend had already initiated you into the realm of womanhood, but I see that you're as innocent now as you were the day you walked into my hotel."

  “Is that how long you've been planning this?"

  “Yes and no,” Christopher answered. “Your appeal was apparent at our first meeting, and I have to admit that I was waiting for the right opportunity to offer you my friendship.” He grinned mockingly. “Ironically, it was your own actions that spurred the idea of expediting our relationship, Miss Aldrich."

  “I don't know what you're talking about."

  “I'm referring to your initial visit to Chinatown. It was amusing to watch you defy Garrett. Few women do, you know. After viewing your heated exchange in the carriage, I knew it was only a matter of time before you'd venture out again."

  The other man opened the door of a room and Christopher carried Claire inside. She was dumped onto a large bed draped with silk curtains. “I suggest you rest while you can,” the blond betrayer said, smiling. “The rendezvous with your fiancé is at dawn. After that you belong to me and I intend to enjoy you before you're put on the freighter. I never sell what I haven't sampled first."

  Claire called him every contemptible name she'd ever heard, but Christopher only laughed at her as the door was shut and locked.

  The sound of a woman's muffled cries stole Claire's attention away from the door. She looked across the room. Evelyn Holmes was huddled in the corner, crying like a frightened child.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Miss Holmes...” Claire made her way to the woman crouched in the corner. “Are you hurt?"

  Evelyn shook her head. “He slapped me when I called him a bloody bastard, but I've been slapped before. It's being locked in here that's got me ready to go out of my mind. I hate being locked in. My father used to lock me in my room whenever I disobeyed him.” Her silvery blond hair hung in disarray about her face and shoulders. She was wearing black trousers and a tunic, similar to Claire's, and her feet were bare, a
s well. She used the bottom half of the tunic to wipe her face, then looked at Claire. Her blue eyes were swollen from crying and there was a bruise on her left jaw. “He bragged that he'd get you, too,” she said in a shaky voice. “I think he's mad."

  “How long have you been here?” Claire asked, not sure if she agreed or not. Madness made people do unpredictable, irrational things. Christopher's scheme was premeditated and ruthless. He knew exactly what he was doing. That made him more dangerous than a man who wasn't in control of himself.

  “I'm not sure. Two days, I think."

  Claire leaned against the wall and looked around the room. Except for the bed, it was void of furniture. A small gaslight fixture, centered in the ceiling, gave off a yellowish light that made the starkness of the room seem even more foreboding. The floor was bare wood, clean but unpolished. Two windows were shuttered on the outside and barred on the inside. Seeing the bars, Claire realized that this wasn't the first time Christopher and his half brother, Chen Loo, had kept prisoners.

  Claire continued scrutinizing her prison. She struggled with the fearful sensation stealing the last of her composure. Fear for herself, fear for her brother, but most of all, fear for Garrett. He'd meet with Christopher without suspecting that his best friend was actually his worse enemy. Staggered by her emotions, Claire was thankful that she was sitting down.

  She looked toward the bed. The sheets were rumpled and the pillows scattered as if they'd been picked up from the floor and tossed to the mattress without any real thought of tidiness.

  “I never sell what I haven't sampled."

  Christopher's words sent a shiver of disgust through Claire. A smoldering anger began in the pit of her stomach and she clinched her fists.

  “Did you know that Chen Loo is Christopher's half brother?” Claire asked.

  Evelyn nodded, then glared at the bed. Her face was blank, but her eyes were burning with hatred. “We were introduced."