The Captain's Pearl (6 page)

“An hour, a day, maybe two days … I don't know.”

“Do you have opium?”

“Opium!” He cursed as he caught her by the shoulders. “You little fool, do you think we would carry opium from China?”

“I don't know!” she cried, jerking herself away. When she swayed, he caught her. She pulled away again. His eyes narrowed to jade slits, and terror filled her. He could have her thrown overboard. How that would please Mother's Younger Brother, who had wanted her drowned at birth!

Lieutenant Trevarian answered quietly, shocking her. “No opium, but we have other medical supplies as well as rum.”

“There is a posset my mother makes. It might help.”

“Do you know it?”

“Mother can—”

“Do
you
know it?”

She listed what she needed, glad Lieutenant Trevarian spoke in Cantonese. She could not have managed in English.

Going to the door, he repeated her request to a man there. He closed the door. “He'll bring what he can find. Stay here. I must supervise above decks.”

“If you want to find opium, there is a shop on—”

His brow furrowed in a frown. “We're underway, and we aren't turning back.”

“But, Lieutenant Trevarian, if we go there, we can get some opium. It will—”

“Be silent, you little fool. We can't go back. Sun Niang's men were lying in wait for us.”

“Mother? Is she safe?”

“I don't know, and, to be honest, I don't give a damn.”

“Where is Mother?”

“In Canton.”

“No!” Grasping his sleeve, she did not back away from his fearsome scowl. “Please! We must get Mother. You brought the thousand stories box. Why didn't you bring her? Davis promised me—”

He gripped her wrist, pulling her fingers off his arm.

“He tried to do as he promised. She was not there. Now I'm getting the
China Shadow
out to sea before your uncle decides to hunt you down.” He motioned toward the bed. “Watch him. Let me know immediately if there is any change, any change at all, in his condition.”

“I'll do what I can. If he …”

Lieutenant Trevarian patted her shoulder, and the tips of his mustache drooped. When she put her fingers over his, his hand curved along her cheek. She longed to close her eyes and savor the caress of his rough skin while she forgot everything in his arms.

“Do what you can, blue eyes. No one can ask more of you than that.” He walked out of the cabin.

She quivered. As she went to stand by her brother's bed, she knew, if Davis died, her life would be in the hands of a man who had every reason to hate her.

Five

“
Yün-ch 'wahn poo yün-ch 'wahn
?” Lian heard Lieutenant Trevarian ask through her despair. She clutched her hands over the silk
ch 'eÅ­ng shaam
he had found somewhere.

Without opening her eyes, she replied, “Yes, I am seasick.” For the three day journey down the Pearl River and past Macao, she had hidden her distress. Once the ship had sailed into the South China Sea, she had been so ill she had not been able to move from the pallet in Davis's quarters.

He chuckled. She opened her eyes to discover him bending over her. Time vanished as she was swept back to the brothel. A scream pounded through her head, but all that emerged was a frog's croak. She wished she had the strength to wipe Lieutenant Trevarian's smile from his face.

Her agony became more acute as the pictures on the wall swayed with the motion of the ship. With a gasp, she rolled on her side. His warm fingers closed over hers as she moaned with the anguish which threatened to turn her inside out. The spasms passed, leaving her weak. Something cool caressed her forehead. She reached up to find a damp cloth.

“Lieu—”

“Just Bryce for now. I'm tired of you trying to say my name correctly.” He laughed quietly. “Not that you have yet.”

“It is a queer name.”

Again he laughed. “It's queer only to a half-breed Chinese woman, blue eyes. Trevarian is a good Cornish name.”

“Cornish?”

“Cornwall. A part of England.”

In a whisper, she asked, “How is Davis?”

“He is still alive. Barely.”

His grief brought her eyes open again. Her fingers stroked his rough cheek. She wanted to offer him comfort and help him believe there might be a miracle.

His mustache tilted in a weary smile. “I'm afraid there's no relief for
you
, blue eyes, except becoming accustomed to the ship's motion.”

“I cannot.” Tightness cramped her stomach.

With a short laugh, he stood. “You'll have to. It is going to take months to reach Massachusetts.”

“Bryce, I—” Looking past his broad shoulder as she heard a moan, she forgot her own anguish.

“He has not regained consciousness.” Bryce sighed. “Maybe it is for the best.”

As he went to the bed, she thought of a dozen questions she wanted to ask. Her mind refused to work as it drew her into sleep. She knew Bryce would be watching over Davis and—reluctantly—her.

The groan was filled with pain. Lian fought the sickness and rose. She could see nothing through the darkness, but she recognized the sound. Davis.

She took a single step and fell to the floor. It pitched like something in as much agony as she was. Another moan urged her to her knees. Somehow she crawled to her brother's bed.

“Davis?” she whispered, holding her hand close to her mouth. At any moment, her stomach might explode again. Leaning on the bed, she looked up at him. His face had the grayish tinge of death.

His eyes opened and slowly focused. “Lian. Little sister.” He added nothing else, as if the few words had drained him.

For the first time, she wondered how old he was. She guessed near thirty, which seemed ancient. “How do you feel?” she murmured.

“Like hell.” He winced as he turned his head. His brow rutted. “As bad as you look, little sister. What's wrong with you?”

“She's seasick,” came Bryce's voice from behind her.

Before Lian could react, he picked her up and dropped her on the pallet. She could not snarl an insult at Bryce when sickness rocked her.

“Stay there,” he ordered. “I'll tend to the captain.”

“You were not here!” she shot back.

“I am now.”

When she offered to help, Bryce started to refuse. He was interrupted by Davis's pain-thinned voice. “Don't deny me my last hours with my sister, Bryce. Lian, come here, if you wish.”

Fighting the temptation to flash Bryce a victorious smile, she tried to stand. With a thump, she fell. Bryce held out his hand and brought her to her feet.

“Thank you,” she whispered, as she knelt by her brother's bed again.

“Am I that unusual?” Davis asked, with a hint of a grin. “You're staring as if I were a creature from the stars.”

Placing her trembling fingertips on the mattress, she did not dare to touch him. Anything might add to his agony. She was aware of Bryce standing behind her, ready to pounce on her if she did something wrong. “I am not accustomed to looking at eyes like my own.”

“Father has blue eyes as well. A Catherwood trait. How they will love you!”

“Really?” Hearing a grumble, she knew Bryce did not want her questioning his captain.

Davis's glazed eyes held hers. “Father has spoken often of my other sister, who died at birth along with my mother. He will be thrilled to learn that his line won't come to an end.”

“Davis, don't—” Bryce's heavy hand on her shoulder silenced her. She saw his lips were pursed beneath his mustache.

Weakly, Davis ordered, “Bryce, stop intimidating her. You speak your mind to me. Why shouldn't Lian?”

“I'm sorry, Captain.”

Lian saw fury flash in his eyes. The familiar shudder cramped along her. Bryce Trevarian would be a formidable enemy. Without her brother to protect her …

“What were you going to say, little sister?” Davis whispered.

She lifted his cold hand. She had seen death many times and recognized the hollow-eyed resignation in her brother's eyes. “
Ngoi oy nee
.”

“I love you, too, little sister. We have found each other just in time to be parted again.”

“We shall be together longer in the next world.” Hearing a breathy curse, she did not look at Bryce. Let him be angry at her. She owed her brother honesty.

“I wish I could see Father's face when he meets you.”

“I shall tell you of it when next we meet.”

A laugh nearly sapped him. He had to take several deep breaths before he could murmur, “I'm sure you will. Lian, promise me one thing.”

“Yes.”

“America will be strange to you. You need someone to take care of you.” Each word was punctured by a rasp. “Bryce is watching over the ship. Let him watch over you, too.”

She glanced back. When Bryce's eyes met hers, sorrow clamped around her chest, stopping her heart for one anguished beat. The torture of watching her brother die was diminished by Bryce's agony, for he was unable to help his friend.

When she did not reply, Davis whispered, “Will you heed Bryce as you would me?”

“Yes.” She wondered if Davis realized what she was pledging. She would have to submit her will to Bryce's. She glanced again at Bryce. The curl of his lip into a smile warned that
he
knew exactly what she vowed.

“Take as good care of Lian as you will the
China Shadow,
” Davis continued, but to his friend.

“I promise, Captain,” Bryce said. “I shall see her safely home to your father. You can depend on me.”

“I know I can.”

Bryce lifted Lian's fingers out of her brother's suddenly lax grip. He enfolded them between his hands which were as cold as Davis's. Her eyes blurred as she looked from her brother's face to his first mate's grim expression.

“He's gone,” Bryce murmured.

“No!”

“Dammit, you little fool! You can't halt death!” Recoiling from his rage, Lian took a deep breath. She rose and slowly drew Davis's eyelids down. Pressing her hands together, she whispered a prayer. Bryce reached past her and lifted the bloodstained blanket over her brother's face.

When Bryce turned her toward the door, she shook her head. “He must not be alone. We must—”

“You know nothing about what we must do.”

“He is my brother.”

“Maybe.”

“He believed so.”

With a curse, he herded her out into the narrow corridor. He spoke to the men waiting there and their faces paled. When they began to talk—all at once—she edged back toward Davis's quarters. She must be with her brother. Her prayers would guide him to Mother's Father in the next world.

Bryce caught her arm. Reaching past her, he opened the door to the room across from Davis's. He pulled her inside and, closing the door, scowled. “If you stick your nose out of this room, you little fool, I will make you wish you had never heard the name Catherwood.”

“I wish I never had!” Tears flooded her eyes, blurring his hard face. She stared at the window that was the twin to the one in Davis's quarters.
Davis
! He had believed Mother when he had no reason to and had given his life for a sister he had not known a week ago. Such a good man was dead because of a promise he had not broken.

When broad hands framed her face, she did not resist as she was turned to Bryce. His fury had vanished, leaving only the pain. He tipped her cheek to graze it with his lips. Her breath caught on her serrated grief.

“I am sorry,” she whispered.

“For lying to me?”

“It was no lie. I wish I had never met Davis. If I had not, he would not be dead now.”

“He would not have died uselessly.”

She jerked away. His face grew hard again as she snapped, “He did not die uselessly! He honored his promise to me. Do not belittle that because you would not do the same!”

“I have never broken a promise.” He grasped her shoulders and tugged her to him. “I shall not forget the one I made to the captain or the one you made to me, blue eyes.”

“I made you no promise.”

He gripped her chin. “You promised to do whatever I wished to repay me for rescuing you.”

“I am obligated to do as you wish.” She tensed. How could he think of bedding her when her brother was dead only a few feet away?

“Look at me, blue eyes,” he whispered.

She forced her eyes open. He was not wearing a superior smile. Instead his face was an empty mask, showing he was determined to govern his grief.

“I ask you to fulfill that obligation to me by fulfilling the pledge Davis asked of you.” He took her hand.

“To let you take his place as my older brother until I reach my father's home?”

“Yes.”

“You did not need to ask that. I promised Davis.”

“I know, but you may not realize, blue eyes, how difficult that vow will be to keep.” He pressed his lips to her neck above her
ch 'eÅ­ng shaam
.

A stream of fire washed over her, melting her to him. Her fingers rose to twist through his hair as his mouth coursed along her, seeking her lips. He crushed her to his chest. When his mouth captured hers, she tasted his desperation—desperation to satisfy this craving, desperation to discover pleasure, desperation to forget the pain of loss …

With a soft cry, Lian pulled herself out of his arms. She wobbled to where a single chair was set beneath the window. She gripped it. “You gave Davis your word, too. I thought you said you never broke a promise.”

“I don't intend to.” His slow smile taunted her. “I just want you to understand what will happen if you fail to honor your pledge. If I am not your surrogate brother—”

Bowing, she let sarcasm cover her fury at how easily he had manipulated her once again. “As you wish, Older Brother, so shall it be.”