The Captain's Pearl (18 page)

His tongue teased her ear as he whispered, “Lianne Trevarian. At least, in the past four years, you have learned to pronounce the name.”

“I told you I've learned many things in the past four years.”

He cupped her chin. “And what else have you learned? Are you still as untouched as you were when I left you here?”

Rage erupted through her at his crude questions. “How dare you!”

“As you are to be my wife, Lianne, it's a question I have a right to ask.”

“As I have a right to ask if you have slept with any woman since you left me here?”

“You can ask.”

She laughed tersely. “Oh, how you would love to brag about your conquests! If our lives together must be separate from our lives apart, are you giving me permission to take a lover while you travel around the world?”

His green eyes blazed with fury. “I'd kill any man who tries to seduce my wife.” He tilted her mouth under his. Gone were the sweet kisses. He overpowered her anger with his invitation to explore this passion. She slipped her hands up beneath his coat, caressing his back.

His fingers curved up her breast again. When she placed her fingers over his, his eyes widened as she drew his hand along her. His palm brushed the tip of her breast, and she moaned. The sound vanished into his mouth as he pressed it over hers.

When she suddenly yawned, she was shocked that Bryce chuckled. “Blue eyes, I think you should go to bed.”

“I must sit up with Father tonight.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “You must get some rest. Knowing you, I suspect you have not slept since your father died. You need to get some sleep. The funeral is tomorrow.”

“Don't you think I know that?” Her voice broke as tears clung to her lashes. “Forgive me, Bryce. Father and I had so few years together.”

“You had four years. That is more than I had.”

“More?”

He ran his thumb along her jaw. “My father was a sailor, too. He went down during a battle with the British in 1814. I've been told I'm much like him, but I never knew him.”

He gently wiped away her tears as she whispered, “Why haven't you told me before?”

“When? One of the times when you berated me as a cad for trying to keep you from getting mired in the trouble you had created for yourself?”

She took his hand between hers. “There were other times. Many other times while we sailed here.”

“I guess I didn't want to tell my sad story to an urchin who was leaving what little she had behind.” Glancing at the closed doors between the parlors, he sighed. “Blue eyes, I must—there is something I came here to do.” He smiled as he stood and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

She walked with him into the front parlor. The incense had finished burning, but the hint of its exotic aroma drifted through the room. When he released her arm, she did not follow him closer to the coffin.

“Lianne?”

At the soft call of her name, she went to stand beside him. He held out her thousand stories box.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I did not realize you still had this.”

“I would never toss away my thousand stories box.”

“Does it truly contain a thousand stories?”

She ran her fingers over it as she had before he arrived. “It contains the tales my mother told me when I was a child as well as the stories of all my ancestors.”

“Family is important to you, isn't it?”

“Yes.” She bit her lower lip, then whispered, “In so many ways, I will never be able to leave China behind me. There, family is revered above anything else.”

Bryce glanced at the coffin. “That simply means you are a Catherwood, blue eyes. The captain and Miss Catherwood raised Davis to think first of family. Maybe that is why you have fit in here so much better than I ever expected.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Or it may be that I am going to have to admit that you are not as much of a little fool as I once thought.”

“Bryce, this is not the time or place to—”

“It is the time and place for this.” He withdrew something from a side pocket of his pea jacket and balanced it in his palm.

She reached out to touch the balsa mast of the miniature ship. Threads supported the thin masts and tissue sails. Even in the light of the single candle, she could see the lettering on the bow.

“It's the
Pacific Shadow,
” she whispered.

“Your father told me when we went out in the jolly boat how he wished he could have sailed her forever.” He leaned forward to place the delicate sculpture in the coffin. “Now she goes with him.”

She choked back a sob. “You've given my father his heart's delight to take with him into the next world. There is nothing he loved more than his ship.”

“There is one other.” As he bent to recapture her lips, he whispered, “But you are mine now, blue eyes.”

He swept her into rapture with a fiery kiss. Only later, when she was alone did she recall his possessive words and knew that, to honor her father, she had given herself into a bondage as complete as she would have known in Sun Niang's brothel. Only this time Bryce would not help her escape.

Thirteen

Bryce closed the gate in front of the Catherwood house just as the front door swung open. He watched as Miss Catherwood paused to adjust the black veil on her grandniece's hat. Then his eyes riveted on Lianne. Although she was dressed in a somber dress decorated with jet buttons and a narrow, black ruffle at its hem, he imagined her as she had been last night, all silk and softness in his arms—as she would be on Saturday when they spoke their vows before the minister.

He fought his grin. He should not be looking so happy when Captain Catherwood would be buried within the hour but the captain would understand that Bryce was thrilled with the legacy Captain Catherwood had asked him to make his own. Saturday seemed too far away when he imagined Lianne's remarkable blue eyes closing with delight as they consummated those vows. Her splendid curves would not be hidden beneath a long black veil or thick petticoats when the fantasies that had plagued him for four years were given life.

Walking to the carriage, he tipped his black hat to the women and reached for the carriage door. Miss Catherwood nodded her thanks and asked, “Will you ride with us, Captain Trevarian?”

“I would be honored, Miss Catherwood.” He handed her in. When she was settled on the leather cushions, he turned to Lianne. “Good morning, blue eyes.”

“Good morning, Bryce.”

“Even though it might be inappropriate to say, you look lovely.” His hands reached beneath her veil to slide along her slender shoulders. He pushed the veil aside as he tilted back her head and kissed her gently. Every bit of his self-control was tested, for he wanted to tug her into his arms and taste all of her.

“Captain Trevarian!” gasped Miss Catherwood.

He kept his arm around Lianne. “Yes, Miss Catherwood?”

“Proprieties should be observed today.”

“You know I would do nothing to ruin the dignity of the captain's funeral.”

“Then I suggest you treat my grandniece with proper decorum.”

Bryce looked from Miss Catherwood's fury to Lianne's eyes which focused on a spot in the middle of his coat. With a smile as he assisted Lianne into the carriage, he said, “You should have told her, blue eyes.”

“The time hasn't been right,” Lianne replied. “I thought that maybe after …”

“Tell me what?” demanded Great-Aunt Tildy.

She waited for Bryce to answer while he sat beside her and arranged his long legs in the small space left by their full skirts, but he remained silent. Knowing that the responsibility was hers, she faced her great-aunt. “Last night when Bryce—last night, he—Great-Aunt Tildy, last night Bryce asked me to marry him, and I said I would.”

“Marry?” Her aged eyes widened, then she smiled. “How marvelous! But why didn't you announce this before Samuel died? He would have been thrilled.”

Quietly, Bryce answered, “He knew. The captain was pleased.”

“Of course he was.” Great-Aunt Tildy kissed Lianne's cheek. “Samuel always admired your abilities on the
China Shadow
, Bryce, which I shall call you now that we are family. He couldn't have been more delighted if he had selected you for Lianne himself.”

Lianne flinched and was glad that her great-aunt did not notice. How the gossips in Stormhaven would love to speculate that Bryce was marrying her simply to gain the Shadow Line!

She looked out the window. The fall colors were brilliant on the sunny day, especially the scarlet sumac along the road leading out toward Cutter's Creek and the old grist mill. As the carriage stopped, a shiver threatened to fragment her composure. The grave markers were darkened by time and the brine blowing off the sea. Among them were more mourners than she had expected.

Bryce's hand on her arm brought her gaze back to him. He had opened the door and was waiting to help her from the carriage as he had Great-Aunt Tildy. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had not noticed.

“Lianne, are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes!” she returned. “Wonderful.”

His fingers tightened around hers as a stiff smile pulled at his lips. “Take care what you say. Don't you know how everyone is going to watch you today?”

“I don't care! Everything I do will be considered wrong.”

Reaching into the carriage, he plucked her out and set her on the ground. His hands remained at her waist. In his eyes, she could see his longing to kiss her. A sob caught in her throat. She should not be thinking of his luscious kisses when she was attending her father's funeral.

“You shall be fine, blue eyes.”

His tenderness almost undid her. She yearned to let his strong arms surround her, but he was not offering a haven, only help. He was correct. For her father, she would be strong.

When Bryce held out his arm, she put her fingers on it. He placed his other hand over hers, but, for the first time, his touch was not a prison. He was daring her to be brave.

The shocked gazes of the mourners followed them as they approached the freshly dug grave. After the scene at the ball, no one expected to see her with Bryce Trevarian.

Their arrival signaled Reverend Dover to begin. His voice droned on and on. Lianne put her arm around the quaking shoulders of her great-aunt as she looked at her father's coffin. Her grief surged forward, but she suppressed it. With the ship Bryce had given him, he had a good start on his next life.

When the coffin was lowered into the ground, she held out her hand to Bryce. He took it, and she heard a collective gasp. She ignored it. Today, beside the grave of the man they both had loved, she needed Bryce's strength.

As soon as the service was over, Bryce whispered, “Let me have the carriage brought over here. I don't think Miss Catherwood can walk too far. If—”

“If you are going to be a member of the Catherwood family,” Great-Aunt Tildy said, warning that her hearing was still keen, “you'd best learn that we are not namby-pambies.” She put her hand on his arm. “However, you may
escort
me back to the carriage. Even an old woman enjoys having a handsome young man by her side.”

“It's my honor, Miss Catherwood.” He winked at Lianne.

“You should call me ‘Great-Aunt Tildy.' Now when are you two planning on the wedding? Certainly you are not going to wait a year until Lianne is out of mourning. It …”

Their voices drifted away as Lianne remained beside the grave. The staccato sound of the gravediggers' shovels sliced through her. Each plop of the soil against the wooden top of the coffin increased her anguish. The questions about what had happened to her mother returned to haunt her.

“Miss Catherwood?”

Lianne turned as Chester Simmons nodded to her.

“Let me express my condolences, Miss Catherwood.”

She forced a smile. “Mr. Simmons, I appreciate your kind words and the friendship you shared with my father. I know he enjoyed your frequent visits.”

“May I be blunt?”

“Yes.” She scowled, puzzled not by his question, but by his intensity.

The bent man, whose body was as twisted as a tree on a windswept cliff, crouched toward her. His blue eyes gleamed.

She took a step backward, bumping into someone. She was relieved to find Bryce standing behind her. Taking strength from his smile, she faced Mr. Simmons again. Her eyes widened when she saw he was standing straighter, a grin on his lined face.

“Cap'n Trevarian!” gushed the elderly man. “How are the repairs on the
China Shadow
going?”

“She should be ready to sail by spring. Why don't you come down and see her?”

“Might do that. Just might.”

“Mr. Simmons,” Lianne asked, wondering if she had been mistaken when his expression unsettled her, “you wanted to ask me something?”

His smile broadened. “'Tis nothing, Miss Catherwood. Just wanted to tell you how much I appreciated what the cap'n did for me. We'll chat sometime.” He tipped his cap to her and hobbled off toward where other employees of the Shadow Line had gathered.

“What's wrong?” Bryce asked. He offered his arm and led her toward the carriage.

She was no longer surprised that he could read her emotions with ease. “Nothing … I guess. I am not in a very good state of mind to make judgments today. Mr. Simmons just seemed to be acting oddly.”

“You are right.”

“You think he is acting oddly?”

His hand under her elbow assisted her onto the seat across from her great-aunt. “No, that you are not in a good state of mind to make a judgment.”

Lianne almost retorted, but saw how distraught her great-aunt was, so she listened as Great-Aunt Tildy shared her recollections of past generations of Catherwoods. Remembering ancestors on the death of her father seemed a proper memorial.