China Rose

by Marsha Canham

  China was gently lowered to the berth again. It was ridiculous that she should think of anything other than his hands, his lips, his body at that precise moment, but she did, and it was because of something Justin had said earlier.

  "Justin?"

  "Hum?" came the reply, somewhat distracted.

  "You said--" she gasped and clenched her teeth through a shiver as she felt his mouth trailing warm kisses down between her breasts and lower, onto her belly. "Y-you said Bessy told the doctor you had sent him. I mean, that Jason Savage sent him...sent you...him...sent Justin Cross..."

  "Aye." He lifted her knees, bending them up and easing them apart as his mouth roved even lower. He ignored the sudden tension he felt skittering through her body and nibbled his way down her inner thigh toward the pearly soft folds of flesh that were now exposed to him. His answer, consequently, was somewhat muffled. "I did say that."

  "And...oh!...and that it could not have been Ranulf."

  "Mmmhmm."

  "Then it had to be someone from the Reunion...or...or...oh Justin! No! You can't! You mustn't!"

  He caught her hands and held them by her sides as his mouth suckled the hidden gem between his lips and his tongue tasted, lashed, probed.

  "Justin..." It was barely a whisper. She pulled her hands free, but only to send one clawing into his dark hair, the other twisting into the bedsheets to keep her from crying out. She forgot what she had been about to say, forgot she was even capable of thinking as the pleasure flared through her belly and limbs, rendering her mute and helpless.

  Some time later, Justin kissed the moisture from her brow, kissed each damp eyelid, and smiled against the softly parted lips that could barely manage a sigh beneath his.

  "Your first lesson in ship's etiquette, Miss Grant," he murmured."Never tell the captain he cannot or must not do anything."

  She whimpered softly and nodded.

  "As for trying to distract me from my pleasures--" he saw her eyes open wide. Wider. "You are about to get lesson number two."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  By morning the torrential rains had stopped. A weak and watery sun pushed out from behind the clouds, casting daylight over a harbor crowded with a forest of masts and furrowed sail. Seagulls screeched incessantly and circled overhead, diving for the scraps of waste thrown overboard. Across the spithead, visible through the dispersing mist was the Isle of Wight.

  China stood at the sloped bank of gallery windows and looked out at the harbor. Justin had risen long before dawn and had managed to dress and leave the cabin without waking her. Not surprising, she thought with a deep blush. He had well and truly exhausted her, draining her of every ounce of strength.

  Between bouts of lovemaking, they had talked. That is to say, she had talked and he had listened for the most part, though he had let slip a few of the puzzle pieces she had been trying to fit together. The night Ranulf's coach had been waylaid, it had been Justin and Ted Bates who had stopped him on the road. It had been Bessy Toone, in turn, who had let it slip to Justin that his brother would be carrying a large amount of money home that night, confirming Justin's suspicions that someone was blackmailing Ranulf. He thought if he took the money it would either force the blackmailer out into the open, or force Ranulf to take more drastic steps. It was an incredible stroke of bad timing that the second meeting with the blackmailer had taken place the same night Justin was being stitched from his meeting with the pie man.

  Justin had also discovered that Ranulf had borrowed heavily to make up the ten thousand demanded by the blackmailer. To a man with political aspirations, the resurrection of the Orion scandal would be a disaster. Ranulf suspected Justin of being behind it; he therefore had a more than trifling motive to see Justin led to the gallows for Bessy's murder.

  But Bessy had said 'Jay' sent the man she assumed to be Justin Cross.

  Who else knew the history of the Reunion; who knew that Justin and Jason Savage were one and the same man; who would have proof of Anthony Cross's presence on board the ship, enough to use as blackmail against Ranulf?

  It was not too much of a stretch to believe that when the ships collided, the Orion could have been boarded, letters, logs, or manifests removed to surface later in a blackmailer's hands.

  By Ted Bates's own admission, only two of the original crew remained on board the Reunion. Bates had been a ships mate and was now Justin's first officer and confidant. Not only was he familiar with every detail of the sinking of the Orion, he had more recently acted as a messenger between Bessy and Justin. If he was the blackmailer, he could easily have arranged to have Bessy silenced at the same time he was meeting Ranulf on Mayberry Bridge. Who was to say Bessy had made a dying declaration? Who was to say they were not Ted Bates's own words meant to throw Ranulf into a rage and have Justin removed from the scene, charged with murder? With Justin out of the way, Bates could take command of the Reunion and sail the tainted slaver away--with ten thousand pounds in his pocket--without anyone raising a single protest.

  The other crewman was Norman East. China knew next to nothing about him and was not even certain she could pick him out of the present crew in broad daylight. She recalled only a very large man with a great deal of hair, most of it drenched and hanging about his face and shoulders; a description that would undoubtedly fit half a dozen sailors on board.

  If Ted Bates or Mr. East were blackmailing Ranulf and if, as the blackmailer, one of them was worried that Justin might learn of his activities through Bessy Toone, he could have arranged to have an assassin pose as Justin Cross. Justin had returned to the Boars Head Inn after dealing with the pie man but according to him, Ted Bates had not shown himself for the rest of that evening. Mr. East had been there, however. He had been the one to stitch up the wound in Justin's and had left shortly afterward, supposedly to return to the ship. But had he returned directly to the ship, or had he taken a detour to rob Ranulf at the bridge?

  One of them? Or both of them? Or Ranulf, or Eugene, or the Dragon Lady (yes, she had even considered the sour and officious Mrs. Biggs in the many possible permutations) It could be any one of them, or all of them, or none of them.

  China sighed. She had washed using the cold water in the small basin but would commit murder herself for a long hot soak in a bathtub. She had used Justin's brush to deal summarily with her hair, but it too needed a good wash and untangling. Her clothing had still not made an appearance and, for lack of anything else, she was dressed again in the oversized cambric shirt.

  "My dear Miss Grant, if you insist on dressing in such a manner and standing in front of a bright window, I cannot be held responsible for my actions."

  China did not turn around, but she smiled as Justin came up behind her and drew her into the circle of his arms. She tipped her head to the side, exposing more of her pale neck to his nuzzling lips.

  "If my clothes were returned to me, Sir, I could spare you the burden of accounting for those actions."

  "Mmm. Such a dreadful burden. I shall arrange to have them thrown overboard at once."

  After a moment, he released her and moved over to his desk. "The Reunion is ready to weigh anchor. Barring any unforeseen problems, like earthquake or hurricane, at first tide, we'll be putting on sail. The word has gone out and most of the crew has returned. Those who are too drunk or too far away can catch us up in Falmouth if they make haste. Mr. Bates has gone ashore to take care of any unfinished business matters with the cargo. Only half the bays are filled, but--" he shrugged-- "I've neither the time nor the inclination to haggle with excise men."

  "Justin...?"

  "I have not decided where to take her." He frowned as he leaned over the charts. "North perhaps where we can fill the rest of her holds with wool from Eyre. Then south to Gibraltar perhaps. Tea and silks can be bought from the gypsies for a song and sold in the colonies for their weight in gold. Have you a preference?"

  This last was said so quietly, China was not sure she'd even heard it. Throughout all of the long night the
re had been no mention of her future, or his, or if the two were to be combined in any way.

  When she did not answer right away, his frown deepened. "Of course, you may have decided not to come along at all. That is easy enough to understand. You can be taken ashore whenever, wherever you wish. I'm told Devonshire is a beautiful part of the country, filled with fat, rich squires with sons who do nothing more hazardous than run to hounds."

  "It is quite beautiful, yes," she whispered. "I have never been to Gibraltar, so I could not compare, but I do prefer tea and silks over harsh country wool. I was rarely allowed the luxury of anything more frivolous than muslin."

  Justin's gaze locked on hers. "Muslin is what they wear in the tropics."

  "The tropics?"

  "Aye. Where I'm bound. I have an island in the Bahamas. The sand on the beaches is pink and the water is as clear and blue as...as your eyes, by God. I knew I had seen that color somewhere. I had thought I might try living there for a while. It is a long way from home, however, and only a small island amongst many. There would not be much else besides sea and sky and each other to fill the days and nights."

  "I think...I would like that very much."

  "You wouldn't miss the green of England? Or the sweet air of Devonshire? Or being presented at court some day on the arm of some titled swain who reeks of respectability? Leave with me now, on board the Reunion, and you leave all hope of that behind."

  "I believe I have left it already," she said, smiling softly.

  "So you have." He moved around to the front of the desk. "Today was to be your wedding day, was it not?"

  "Yes. The thought scarcely moves me to tears, other than there was to have been a grand party and I would have had a chance to wear my mother's wedding gown."

  "I have never thought of myself as the marrying type," he mused.

  China's only response was to flush a pale pink.

  "I made no such promises," he said quietly.

  "I am not asking for any."

  "Not even if you find your belly swollen and your temper short?"

  The pink blushed to a dark red and Justin cradled her face between his hands, kissing her hard, and long, and deep. "I can only offer you this old scow and the wide open seas. Perhaps an adventure or two along the way, nights spent under moonlight, warm sand, and endless beaches."

  "It is far more than I have ever been offered before."

  The gray eyes gleamed and she slipped her arms up and around his neck. Her lips sought his again and she sighed against the kiss, feeling his hands slide up beneath the flimsy layer of cambric.

  And that, more or less, was the position Sir Ranulf Cross found them in when he strode through the cabin door some two minutes later.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  "A very pretty sight indeed, my dear," Sir Ranulf said. "Very pretty."

  He was seated behind the mahogany desk in the study at Braydon Hall. China was opposite him, her eyes downcast, her hands folded tightly on her lap. She was dressed in the water-stained, crinkled frock she had boarded the Reunion wearing; it was soiled black along the hem, torn in places, and generally rendered unfit from the soaking. Her hair was bound by a length of twine, though wisps had worked themselves free and brushed against her cheeks, which had remained red and burning throughout most of the past hour.

  "Can you even begin to imagine how totally unexpected it was for me to walk into the cabin of a slave ship and find my bride locked in a flagrantly immodest embrace with a disowned bastard whose own behavior over the past fortnight has been shockingly beyond belief? Can you even begin to imagine it?"

  China looked up. Ranulf had his back to the window; his hair and muttonchops whiskers caught the beams of sunlight and glowed like fire. His eyes were glittering with rage barely held in check. His jaw was as square and hard as a brick.

  "Have you nothing to say for yourself?"

  "You have no claim on me, Sir," she said calmly. "I was not aware I was bound to answer to you for my actions any longer."

  "Ah yes." He flicked the note she had left him across the desk. "You have had second thoughts about the marriage."

  "Second, third, fourth...and each time I have arrived at the same conclusion. I would not marry you if you were the last man on earth."

  He smiled briefly. "Such bravado in the face of such overwhelming odds. You are aware, are you not, of the crime Justin is accused of committing?"

  China dug her fingernails into the backs of her hands, her knuckles glowing white. The last she had seen of Justin, he had been forcibly restrained by a half dozen armed men, clapped in leg irons, and dragged from the deck of the Reunion barely conscious.

  "As I understand it, he has been accused of murdering your mistress," she said evenly.

  Ranulf's eyes narrowed at the sarcasm. "Loyal too, I see, however misguided."

  "It has nothing to do with loyalty. I simply do not believe Justin capable of beating a woman to death. Moreover, when I speak to the magistrates, I will be able to tell them quite plainly that it was not possible for Justin to have done it because he was with me that night."

  "With you?" Ranulf's nostrils flared and his mouth compressed into a thin line.

  "With me. It was the same afternoon, if you will recall, that I managed to lose my way in the city. Justin happened along in time to rescue me from an unpleasant confrontation with a peddler. When he saw how upset I was, he took me to a tavern and sat there with me for a long while until I felt well enough to return here. When we left the tavern, we were set upon by the same peddler and some of his friends. That, Sir, was how Justin's arm came to be slashed by a knife. He was defending me."

  "Mrs. Biggs said you were home well before midnight. Justin had more than enough time and opportunity to visit Montemayor Lane."

  "As did you, Sir, as you were not home that evening either until very late."

  Ranulf surged forward in the chair and snarled. "You would dare accuse me of this crime?"

  "I only wish for you to see how easily it is to be falsely accused. And now if you will excuse me," she stood and smoothed down her skirt. "Kindly tell me where they have taken Justin and I shall be gone from your sight forever."

  "Justin has been taken where all criminals eventually end up, Miss Grant. To jail. To stand before a magistrate and be judged for his crimes."

  "I have just told you, he committed no crime."

  "That will be for the judge to decide. Hargrave is his name. A fair enough fellow; I play billiards with him."

  "A friend of yours? I can imagine how fair he will be."

  "How fair he will be...will depend on your slow and careful consideration over the next few minutes."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  Ranulf smiled. "Simply that I am neither blind nor insensible to the manner in which Justin appeals to women of all ages and...inclinations. You would not be the first young innocent to commit a foolish error in judgment."

  "There has been no error on my part," she said evenly.

  "Moreover, I am a forgiving man, and not altogether infallible myself where the opposite sex is concerned. To my way of thinking, experience can be beneficial to a relationship such as ours."

  "We have no relationship. It was an arrangement that you yourself said I was free to cancel at any time."

  Ranulf smiled again and opened the desk drawer in front of him. "As indeed you may, should you decide the evidence will do no harm to either Justin or yourself. Evidence that I will feel obligated to hand over to the magistrate."

  China looked down at the leather billfold he removed from the drawer and set down carefully on the top of the desk.

  "You do not recognize it, Miss Grant?"

  She shook her head. "No. Should I?"

  "It was found amongst your personal belongings. Mrs. Biggs discovered it in your bureau drawer last evening when we were attempting to determine if you had indeed left of your own free will, or if you had been coerced into writing this rather hastily scrawled note. Frankly, in lig
ht of what has happened, that might not be a bad way to explain your absence. Yes," he paused thoughtfully. "Kidnapped and held aboard the Reunion as hostage against safe passage out of port. I like it."

  "I do not know what you are talking about. I have never seen that billfold before, nor do I know what it contains. And I certainly do not know how it got into my bureau drawer unless the one who found it so conveniently, also placed it there."

  Ranulf picked it up, untied the thong and turned back the flap, tipping it so that she could see it was stuffed full of banknotes.

  "Ten thousand pounds, Miss Grant. Oddly enough, the exact amount stolen from me--the exact same billfold, in fact--on the road between Portsmouth and Braydon Hall. You do recall that night, do you not? You and Justin supposedly out walking in the gardens taking in the air. You could as easily have been waiting for him, then taken the money to hide amongst your possessions."

  Her jaw dropped open and she sat back down in the chair with an audible thump. "Surely you do not believe that."

  "Which part? That he was the one who robbed me? Or that you were his accomplice? Or that you knew nothing of his participation in the robbery?"

  China's eyes flickered down. She could not very well claim ignorance about Justin's role in the theft: he had done it. As to the rest, she remembered Justin saying he needed access to her room the next day. She had assumed it was to take something out, not to leave something behind.

  "I see by your reaction, Miss Grant, that you cannot testify to my brother's complete innocence in this matter."

  "If he stole the money from you," she stammered, "he must have had a good reason. But you will never convince me he is capable of murdering a young woman. Not cold-blooded, deliberate murder."

  "I said nothing about premeditation." Ranulf propped his elbows on the desk and steepled his hands under his chin. "The poor girl was beaten and abused, but her death could have been accidental. A throat squeezed too tightly in the throes of lust. Justin is a passionate man with a passionate temper. He may not have been in total control of himself when the unfortunate incident took place."