Moonlight Lover (7 page)

Sin-Jin couldn't help the smile that rose to his lips at her last statement. "That you are," he murmured agreeably.

Why was she even bothering to answer him? The man was unspeakably smug and condescending, as were all his kind. Rachel shot him a disgusted glare. She had work to do and no time to spare for him, especially since Riley would probably be more of a hindrance than a help today, given his condition.

Carefully, she laid the last line of text down, slipping the typeset in backward. With a huff, she slowly inked the long, rectangular surface of reversed letters. That done, she laid the predampened paper over the letters and rolled the bed into its place. Pushing her drooping sleeves up higher on her slender arms, she grasped the printing press handle and pulled. The platen creaked as it pressed further down on the other surface. Between them, they indelibly stamped the news upon a single sheet of paper.

Releasing the handle, she carefully rolled out the lower platen and then lifted the single sheet up. She could have been no gentler than if she was handling a newborn babe. She perused the page quickly, satisfied.

Well done
she told herself.

Riley was aware that their visitor was eyeing his sister with more than just passing interest. He smiled to himself as he continued speaking. Perhaps he wouldn't have to look after Rachel for the rest of his natural life at that.

"When we landed in Philadelphia, fresh from Ireland, Rachel and I were alone." For the moment, Riley thought best to skip a few details. If they became friends, there was time enough to fill in the rest. "We made his acquaintance not long after that. He's a very generous man."

Rachel looked up from the next sheet she was carefully spreading out over the platen. "He's a saint." Her gaze washed over Sin-Jin. "Not like some." Without thinking, she touched her hand to her lips before continuing with her chore.

Sin-Jin grinned as he saw a blot of printer's ink smudge her lips. Taking a handkerchief from his coat pocket, he crossed to her.

Though her back was now to him, she sensed his presence next to her. Turning, she was about to demand to know why he was hovering over her like some vulture waiting for its supper to die. But before she could ask anything, Sin-Jin took her chin in his hand. When she tried to move her head back, she found that his grasp was firmer than she thought.

"Here now, exactly what is it that you have a mind to be doing?" Her voice quavered ever so slightly and she once more damned his soul to hell for the unsteadiness he always seemed to generate within her. Her hands fell to her sides.

Sin Jin saw what appeared to be a flicker of fear in her eyes before it was replaced by a blaze of anger. Yes, a decidedly interesting woman who merited the time that he was going to have to invest in getting to know her. One did not tame a wild creature in the space of a day.

Why was her brother just sitting there on that godforsaken stool? Why didn't he come to her aide, Rachel wanted to know. And what kind of a man was this, to paw her before her own brother?

"Riley?"

There was an urgency in her call that could be interpreted a number of ways. Sin-Jin chose to ignore them all as he raised his handkerchief.

"Is she always this skittish about having dirt cleaned from her?" Sin-Jin glanced over his shoulder at Riley as he began to wipe at the smudge on her lip.

Rachel managed to draw her head back this time. "Dirt?" she muttered, feeling like a complete fool.

Sin-Jin's smile grew. He already guessed that she hated
him for it. It only added fuel to the fire. "On your lip. Printer's ink."

Still holding her chin in his hand, Sin-Jin applied long, soft strokes to her bottom lip. It was a very simple action.
There seemed to be no earthly reason why it should arouse him so.

Rachel had never felt anything so incredibly gentle in all her life as the touch of his hand along her lip. She completely forgot that there was cloth in the way. The gentleness reminded her of the time she had handled a week-old kitten she had discovered in a corner of the old church.

But the kitten had never made her feel this unsettled, as if there was a storm churning within her, longing to break free.

With an oath that systematically lowered the origin of all his ancestors, she batted Sin-Jin's hand away, knowing she had already let him see too much in her eyes. "I'm fully capable of cleaning myself."

Sin-Jin gallantly surrendered his handkerchief to her. "Then you must let me watch some time."

Chapter Seven

"When hell freezes over."

Rachel glared at Sin-Jin as she uttered the prophesy. Her fingers spasmodically tightened around the handkerchief, wishing it was his neck instead.

Who did he think he was? Just who in the bloody blazes did he think he was, looking at her with those
piercing blue eyes of his and wagging that smooth tongue
around? Did he think just because he had kissed her once—completely against her will—that gave him the right to act as if she were a common doxy, ripe for the picking?

She'd seen his like, a hundred times she'd seen his like in Ireland, lording it over people less fortunate than
themselves, people born on the wrong side of the shilling,
or the wrong side of the continent, as it was with her and hers. As it was with her mother.

Sorrow and anger filled her as she thought of her mother.

Not trusting herself to keep her fingers from encircling
his throat and wiping away his smile by force, Rachel threw the handkerchief back at him. She turned from him and returned to her work as if he didn't even exist. Perhaps if she worked hard enough, she could forget his presence altogether.

She heard the soft murmur of Sin-Jin's voice and her brother's responding. The rogue's voice sounded like cool rainwater descending on a parched land. She
struggled to shut the sound of it out. And all the while, as
he spoke, Rachel could have sworn she felt his eyes on
her, taking in her every movement as if she was spilt milk
and he the cloth that had been dropped over it, absorbing the white puddle bit by bit.

She felt trapped, insulted and yet, somehow, it was all wildly exhilarating. Her heart, that traitorous wretch, was pounding. She hadn't the slightest idea how to deal with it. She decided to meet it head on, the way she approached everything else. Her method wasn't demure.
She had been told time and again that it wasn't a woman's
way to act like that, but it was hers.

When she deliberately turned and lifted her head, she caught Sin-Jin staring at her as if she were a piece of
cheese and he a hungry mouse. And he had the gall not to
turn his head away in embarrassment, as if staring at her like that was his God-given right.

The bastard.

Rachel wiped her inky fingers on the ragged apron she
had bound around her waist. "And just what is it you're looking at?"

Pugnaciously, Rachel took a step toward Sin-Jin. To her annoyance and perhaps secret admiration, he didn't back away.

Even with the army of small devils that were pounding wickedly with hammers in his brain, Riley was certain he
had never seen his younger sister so testy. Never had he seen her taking so much umbrage with a man who had scarcely said five sentences to her. What in the name of St. Patrick had come over her?

"You," Sin-Jin answered easily.

He was supposed to look away, be embarrassed at being
confronted. Not look proud of it. What was the matter
with this man? Lord God, she wished he'd stop looking at
her like that. She didn't like the way it made her feel, like a sack of sugar about to blow away in the wind.

She drew her anger to her like a protective cloak. "Why? Haven't you ever seen a decent woman before?"

"Many. But none as lovely as you."

He could see he had confounded her, momentarily tying her tongue. He used the time well, saying something quickly to quell her anger.

"What is it you're doing?" he wanted to know.

He was patronizing her again, just as he had been by calling her lovely. She knew what she looked like in her worn dress. "Any fool could see that I'm printing the Gazette."

"Rachel," Riley chided softly as Sin-Jin picked up the sheet she had printed moments ago. "Not everyone's familiar with our trade."

"It's far more than just a trade, Riley. A blacksmith
has a trade. A miller has a trade. We do not have a trade."
She raised her chin as she looked at Sin-Jin. "We have a calling. We're preserving events for future generations."

A smile played on Sin-Jin's lips. He tapped a space near
the bottom of the first column. "Like Mistress Wilson's lost pig?"

It was a story Rachel had placed in the Gazette herself
to balance out the first column. After all, news was scarce
at times. But if he thought to make her feel foolish, he hadn't succeeded, she thought. She was very proud of what they did here and her own part in it. "Some events are more historic than others."

He laughed, entertained by her display of spirit. He
saw anger rise a measure higher in her eyes; undoubtedly
she mistook his mirth for laughter at her expense. He pressed on prudently. "Who taught you to read?"

And didn't he say it as if it was the eighth wonder of the
world? Undoubtedly he was used to illiterate ninnies.
"I taught myself, thank you."

Sin-Jin raised a brow, looking to Riley for further enlightenment.

"In the main, she's right. Our Da had no use for a girl doing sums and reading. Thought it useless." Their father, a simple tenant farmer, had been a kind man, a good man, but a man who was very set in his ways. To
change something, however small, within the boundaries
of his life was to change his concept of the world completely.

"It was my books she begged for. I showed her the
path, she found the rest of the way herself." Riley smiled
fondly at Rachel. There was a kind heart beneath the sharp tongue, and he of all people knew that to be true.
"It was a stubborn girl she was, even at that tender young
age.

Sin-Jin exchanged an amused look with Riley. "I'd have never guessed."

They were talking about her as if she wasn't even in the
room, or worse, some dumb object without ears or a tongue with which to defend herself. And her brother
was as much to blame as this irritating man he had fallen
in with.

"I'm not in the need of a eulogy." She fisted her hands on her hips, looking from one to the other. "I haven't died and gone to my reward, thank you very much." Her eyes narrowed as she turned her attack on the worst offender. "If you have questions, you can be addressing them to me."

"I did," he reminded her easily, "but there was no one receiving the query."

She frowned, the frown all the more deep because he was right and she guilty of being rude. Even though she hated everything she believed he stood for, she hated rudeness even more. It was an attribute she ascribed to his kind, not hers.

Bracing her shoulders, she raised herself a full two inches on her toes and looked him in the eye as best as she could. Her tone was formal and coldly polite. "Will there be anything else you'd be wanting to know, Mr. Lawrence?"

"Many things," Sin-Jin answered. His smile crinkled the corners of his mouth and traced a path to his eyes. "None of which I can safely ask now."

The blackguard! And to think she had felt guilty at being rude. He deserved rudeness and more for the thoughts he was probably having. Swearing at him, Rachel returned to the task of inking the typeset.

Camaraderie always came easily to him. Sin-Jin had the gift of being able to make most men like him. He turned toward Riley now, knowing he was short one convert.

"As I said, my main purpose in coming here was to see you." He looked the man over. The color of his face was a little rare, but other than that Riley looked fit. "Well, I'd say you seem to be suffering no ill effects from last night's revelry."

Riley laughed, then held his head as the sound multiplied there a hundredfold. "I wouldn't be entirely sure of that."

Sin-Jin peered sympathetically at Riley. There was a time or two when his own head had felt as if it was going to explode. "Does you head ache?"

"Aye." He cast a glance at Rachel. She was busy working, ignoring both of them. "From within and from without. It makes her happy to point out my shortcomings. I'm sure you heard her as you came in."

"I've no doubt Philadelphia heard her as I came in," Sin-Jin commented. There was nothing wrong with the lady's ability to voice her mind loud and clear.

"Possibly," Riley agreed. He smiled at Sin-Jin. "But at any rate, 'tis nice of you to be inquiring after my health."

He leaned closer to Sin-Jin. He didn't want his words carrying to Rachel just yet. He was the head of the house, but he did prefer to enjoy some measure of peace when he could. That meant not provoking Rachel. "Perhaps you'd do us the honor of dinner some evening. There isn't much, but what there is, Rachel can work miracles with. Her tartness is in her tongue and not her pies."

"Not entirely in her tongue," Sin-Jin corrected, speaking loud enough for Rachel to hear.

He knew she had overheard by the blush that crept along her neck. He was more than certain that it fed onto her cheeks. For a moment, he nearly gave in to his desire to turn her around to see for himself.

But he had no intentions of enlightening himself at the expense of her pride, so he let the matter go. Instead, he crossed to the door once again. "I think I would like that, Master O'Roarke."

Friends were something to treasure above all else. Riley felt he already had one in Sin-Jin. "Riley, please." He clasped Sin-Jin's hand in his.

"Riley it is." He tipped his hat in Rachel's direction. "And now, there's a plantation to oversee."

She could not resist a parting volley. "And slaves to mistreat?" Slave-owners to her were only a step above lords of the manor. Both were leeches, living from the sweat of others.