The Captain's Pearl (25 page)

As she paused on the rocks leading down to the pier and held her cloak tightly around her, she saw the crew working on the
Pacific Shadow
. It was a familiar sight, which eased the constricting bands of fear choking her more on every breath. She did not want to imagine that it was too late to salvage anything of her life with Bryce. She went down to the wooden wharf. The water tossed against the underpinnings accompanied her steps along warped boards. The wind buffeted her, and she grasped one of the wooden posts sticking up from the water.

She heard shouts and curses. At the next wharf,
The Pearl
strained against her moorings. Activity was feverish as her crew got her ready for unloading before the next storm.

Beyond
The Pearl
, the
Pacific Shadow
appeared awkward and uncomfortable so close to shore. Without her beautiful canvas blossoming with the wind, her bare poles were lonely. A sensation close to sympathy swelled through Lianne as she stared at the ship.

How had boards and canvas altered her life in more ways than she wished to count? The Shadow Line had brought so many complications to her life, but she could not wish she had never seen the
China Shadow
. The three ships of the Shadow Line were a part of her heritage past and present, for they were also a part of the man she loved.

Lianne pushed her way through the wind. She smiled at a man who was unpacking his rod and creel to go fishing off the wharf. “Pretty rough weather for fishing, isn't it?”

He did not look at her. “Not as bad as coming around Cape Horn.”

“That is rough sailing.” Lianne's smile broadened when she recognized the man. When she had come to Storm-haven on the
China Shadow
, Willis had not been much more than a gangly boy. The past four years had changed him into a muscular man. “Willis, have you seen Captain Trevarian?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“About.”

Lianne's brows lowered. Willis had chatted like a monkey when they had sailed from Canton. Maybe his strong muscles were not the only thing different about him.

Continuing along the wharf, she called to two more sailors she recognized from the
Sleek Shadow
. They did not reply, looking hastily away. When she walked toward them, they scurried away in the opposite direction.

Dread sifted through her. Had Chester Simmons already begun spreading his vicious rumors that she was not Samuel Catherwood's daughter? That made no sense, because he wanted her to pay him to remain silent. Yet, she could imagine no other reason that the usually garrulous sailors were now as silent as corpses. If they had heard Mr. Simmons's story, they might believe that she had betrayed Captain Catherwood and the Shadow Line.

As Bryce believed she had.

No!

He did not believe that. He had destroyed her thousand stories box to protect her from the questions that no one in Stormhaven could answer, but so many could speculate about. She sighed. How could she fault him for not giving her his heart when she could not trust him with hers? But she
did
trust him. She had to find him and tell him that.

By the time she had reached the
Pacific Shadow
, Lianne was no closer to figuring out where Bryce might be. Another sailor along the wharf had given her no more than a grunt in reply to her greeting before walking away. She climbed to the deck, enjoying the rocking that once had made her ill. As her brother had assured her, she had learned to love the motion of a ship beneath her feet, as all the Catherwoods did.

Again, on the ship, she found that no one wanted to talk to her. The answers she got were terse and told her nothing except that Bryce was not aboard the ship.

Where could he be? He had said he was coming here. As she went back toward shore, not sure where else to look for him, she was surprised when Willis called out to her.

“Yes?” she shouted back, hoping the wind did not steal her answer.

He crooked his finger to her. When she neared, he said, “I know you are worried about the captain. He came here a while back and then went to deal with another problem he has on shore.”

“Another problem?”

“Don't know more than that, Mrs. Trevarian.” He glanced around with a guilty expression, as if he should not have told her even this much.

“Thank you.” She forced a smile. “Good luck with your fishing.”

He grunted a response, his shoulders hunched. She suspected he was sorry he had said what he had. As she went back to shore, her smile became more sincere. That Willis had spoken to her—even this little—meant that he still acknowledged her as a partner in Trevarian Enterprises.

Climbing back onto the rocks along the shore, Lianne glanced toward the house. Other business? The only business Trevarian Enterprises had on shore was the mill, but Bryce had paid that little attention, leaving it all to her. Maybe he had wanted to warn Mr. Bergen about the potential rumors. Mr. Bergen was still in Boston, but Bryce might not know that, because he had been focused completely on the ships … and her.

In spite of herself, she smiled as she thought of how he had delighted her last night. They must put an end to this before they lost that rapture.

That thought spurred Lianne's feet along the damp road. She wished she had brought the carriage as she turned her back on the harbor and the village. The walk to the mill was not a long one, but the day was so unseasonably cold.

Wisps of fog writhed along the ground, tormented by the wind that refused to let them settle anywhere. Smoke from the chimneys of Stormhaven followed her out of the village and choked any fresh scents from the sea. Beneath her feet, the once multi-colored beauty of the fallen leaves were becoming a brownish-gray mat concealing the puddles. When she stepped into a deep one, she grimaced.

The day was getting worse. If she was not the fool Bryce had called her, she would turn around and go back to the house. She could wait for him to return there. She increased her pace along the road. She might be a fool, but she was not a coward. Clearing the air between her and Bryce could not wait.

A shiver inched along her back like a drip of rain from the low sky. What was ahead for them would not be easy, so they must be allies, as they had been when they fled from Sun Niang's brothel to the harbor. The questions Simmons intended to ask publicly would refocus the jealousy of Stormhaven on her again. It was not easy to remember how angry she had been at Bryce for wrecking her betrothal to Weston Newberry, for now she understood why he had done what he had. Now she was grateful. Her one attempt to attend a meeting of the Stormhaven Abolitionists' Society had shown her how vicious self-righteous bigotry could be. That prejudice had tempered, especially since the plans for the mill had been announced. This would bring their biases to the forefront again.

Lianne was so glad to see the old mill. She did not slow to look at the new rafters that were visible through the upper windows where glass had not yet been set in place. Pleased that the door had been set on new hinges weeks ago, she shut it behind her, closing out the wind that howled its protests up under the roof.

Her footsteps made a hollow sound as she crossed the main room. Lighting several lanterns that were hanging on the walls, for the shadows refused to relinquish the mill, she looked around. Everything was set for when the looms arrived. Even the corners were clean of the debris that had gathered while the mill was abandoned. The walls had been scraped and whitewashed. Chairs were stacked by one wall, and unopened cases on another. She knew they contained the parts needed to start the looms. Bales of cotton filled half the space, growing damp as it waited to be woven into cloth.

“Bryce?” she called, as she took down one lamp to carry with her.

Her voice echoed as her footfalls had, but no answer came back. Leaving the silent mill behind her, she went along the narrow ell opening off the back of the ground floor. The corridor was filled with muddy footprints, and she smiled. Obviously, some work was being done on this cold day, although she had not seen any workmen about. Looking back, she saw her own smaller prints amid the mud.

“Bryce?” she called, although she did not expect an answer.

She went into the small room which had been set up as an office. Mr. Bergen's desk was nearly lost beneath a mountain of papers. She rubbed her cold hands together. Staring at the dark clouds climbing the horizon, she sighed. She could not stay long, if she wanted to get home before it stormed. She did not envy the crew of
The Pearl
, who would be working in the rain and wind.

Lianne sighed. Lingering at the mill in hopes that Bryce would come here was silly. He probably had gone back to the house or to visit one of the other captains. At this very moment, while she was shivering in this dank office, he might be sitting with a friend before a warm hearth and enjoying some aged brandy.

The wind tore at the walls, resounding through the mill, as Lianne closed the office door behind her. It sounded as if a phantom army marched through the open space. She shivered. She had enough troubles filling her life. She did not need to imagine more trouble. Blowing out the lamp, she hung it back in its place on the wall.

Her steps faltered when she saw a shadow move in front of her in the mill. Was it just the motion of a tree outside or something else? She kept walking toward the door.

“Good afternoon, daughter.”

Lianne whirled. “Mr. Simmons!”

“You have been very foolish.” He stepped out of the shadows and walk toward her with slow deliberation. “You and your husband, who is bragging how he destroyed the box your mother gave you.”

“Bryce said that?” She inched toward the door, but he stepped in front of her with a speed that startled her. “You must be mistaken.”

“I know what I heard with my own ears.”

“You are lying. Bryce would never speak to you of that.”

“So it's true?” he demanded, pouncing on her words. “He did destroy the box, so he could keep anyone from suspecting the truth and taking the Shadow Line from him.”

She kneaded her hands together, so he would not be able to see how they trembled. “My father left the Shadow Line to me and Bryce.”

“Now
you
are lying. It is known throughout Stormhaven that Samuel Catherwood gave the Shadow Line to his daughter. Trevarian got his hands on it only because he married you. Now, when the truth becomes known, he will be sorry he married a half-Chinese daughter of a Chinese harlot to gain control of the Shadow Line.”

“Maybe you believe the truth is known by you, but you are deluded. I was there when my father's will was read, and I know what it said.”

She moved away from the door, but kept more than an arm's length between her and Mr. Simmons. There was a back door just beyond the office. She might be able to reach it. Once outside, she could outrun his bandy legs.

He caught her arm and pushed her against the wall. “You fool! That is what Trevarian called you before he saw a chance to get himself an heiress. A fool!”

Lianne tried to think of a calming response, but anything she said was sure to provoke him more. She might as well speak the truth. “
You
are the fool! You cannot prove that I am your daughter.”

“Maybe not, but can you prove you are Samuel Catherwood's daughter?”

She edged away, then screamed when he struck her so hard she collapsed to her knees. As he laughed, she remembered how Great-Aunt Tildy had told her that Mother had been beaten by this horrid man.

He gripped her bonnet, ripping it off. She moaned when she saw the eager madness in his eyes as he forced her head back. He released her, and she sagged against the wall for a second before pushing herself to her feet. She was shoved back against the wall, her breath exploding out of her.

“I am not finished with you yet, daughter.” He held up a length of the twine that had been wrapped around the cotton bales. When he wound it tightly around his hands, leaving several inches between them, he pressed it against her throat. “'Tis a shame you must die, daughter, but you had your chance to cooperate.”

Lianne did not try to wrench the twine away, because she feared he would immediately wrap it around her neck. “Think a moment. If you kill me, you shall get nothing from Trevarian Enterprises. Bryce will hunt you down and see you dead.” Her voice shook on every word.

His maniacal smile broadened. “Or will he be happy that you are dead?” He pressed the twine across her throat, as he rested one hand on the wall on either side of her. “Maybe he will reward me for ridding his life of you. Cooperate, daughter. I can make your death painless or very painful for you.”

“If you are my father, Mr. Simmons, why do you want to kill me?” The cry came from deep within her heart. Then her eyes widened. “Because you don't truly believe that you are my father, do you? You thought by threatening me that I would pay you to be silent, that I would be your victim as my mother was. She escaped you to find love with Samuel Catherwood, and I will escape you—”

The string cut into her. She knocked his right arm away and tried to flee past him. He struck her again. She fell to her knees.

Bryce's words telling her how she had changed echoed in her head, as she stared at the old man who was smiling with wicked delight. She must prove him wrong. She must remember the Lian she had been when she survived in the sewers of Canton. Raising her hand, she clawed at Mr. Simmons's face. With a bull-like roar of pain, he struck her again.

She careened to the floor, her ears ringing with pain. Before she could move, the string was about her throat. “No!” she screamed. Her fingers tried to pull it away, but it was impossible.

“You got everything I wanted. Each of you damnable Catherwoods stole from me what I was due.”

“I-I-I th-thought I—” Desperation gave her the strength to pull the twine away. She jumped to her feet and staggered.