Against the Tide (12 page)

Bane looked over at Lydia. Suddenly, it became very important for him to know if she had the same sort of blessing that Clara had shared with him. “What about you, Lydia? You never mention religion.”

She fidgeted a little. “No. It has never been a part of my life.”

“Why is that?”

He had asked the question softly, but she still seemed a bit flustered as she went back to sorting through the stack of papers in
her lap. “The closest thing I ever got to real training in religion was my father’s superstitions.” A hint of a blush tinged Lydia’s cheeks. “Papa used to say that if you made a wish under the light of a full moon, it was bound to come true.”

“Tell me you didn’t really . . .”

She shrugged a little hopelessly. “Some of my best memories of Papa are standing on the deck of our boat when the moon was at its very brightest. He would wake me up so we could each make a wish. We were supposed to face the north while we appealed to Artemis, goddess of the moon. He always wished for wild, fabulous things—to pull up a mermaid in our nets or find some long-abandoned pirate loot. I was more practical. I wished for a new pair of shoes or the chance to go to school. I know it sounds foolish, but nights with a full moon still feel very special to me.”

He slanted her a glance. “Lydia, do you still go out and pray to a full moon?”

“Are you going to make fun of me if I do?”

His smile grew wider. “Count on it.”

“Then have at it.” She went back to flipping through the papers in her file, unable to meet his eyes but grinning broadly. “Yes, I go out on each full moon. Always. I still face the north and simply pray a little bit. Not to Artemis or to Jesus or anyone specific. . . . It just feels good to believe
someone
is out there listening.”

She pulled out a document. “This looks like a bill of lading, yes?” By the way Lydia had gone back to sorting the stack on her lap, it was obvious to Bane that she was not open to any more talk of religion.

He looked at the paper she held and saw it was in Greek. “Yes. What does it say?”

He watched as her intelligent eyes made quick work of the document. “It’s about some sort of cheese,” she said.

Bane straightened. Any mention of an agricultural product could be code for cakes of opium. “What kind of cheese?” he asked. “I need to know precisely.”

“It says they are shipping
ladotyri
, and it is to be stored in caskets filled with olive oil to preserve it during the crossing,” she said.

Opium would never be stored in olive oil. “It’s useless,” he said. “Let’s keep looking.”

Lydia looked at him curiously. “The bill of lading says
ladotyri
is a cheese made from sheep and goat’s milk. I didn’t know they could get milk from sheep. I thought all milk came from cows.”

“What do you think lambs suckle from their mothers?”

Lydia shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen a lamb. Or a cow, for that matter. I assume they live on farms, but I’ve never seen a farm.”

Bane was aghast. “You live in one of the richest agricultural countries in the world, and you are telling me you have never seen a farm?”

“Where would I have seen a farm, Bane? I lived on a fishing boat until I was nine, and then in an orphanage in the middle of Boston. No farms there.”

He covered his mouth to stifle the laughter. “You realize how pathetic that sounds, don’t you?”

She tried to look affronted, but she was laughing too hard. And then the look in her eyes changed. It was like watching a playful kitten turn into a hunting panther. “Why don’t you take me out to the countryside?” she said. “It would be an act of charity to show a poor city lass the splendor of wild America.”

He knew she was scheming something in that clever half-Turkish, half-Greek brain of hers, but it was hard to resist. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Why, to correct this shocking void in my education,” she said.
“Now that you have pointed out my howling ignorance, it would be cruel to leave me in this educational deficit.”

He watched the way her eyes fairly glittered and her foot tapped out a steady rhythm as she awaited his answer. Truly, if he wanted to correct her ignorance, he would train her not to reveal her thoughts so easily as she planned her little scheme. Her foot tapping was a dead giveaway she was up to something. But really, he was too enchanted and curious to see what she had up her sleeve.

“Never seen a cow . . .” he murmured in warm disapproval. “I’ll pick you up on Saturday morning, then. Wear something sturdy.”

12

I
t was a glorious Indian summer day, one of those rare days in early November when the cold lifted and the sky was so intensely blue it reminded Lydia of the Mediterranean Sea. As Bane drove the carriage, she devoured the sight of trees swathed in their autumn shades of crimson and bright, shocking yellow. Every now and then a gust of wind sent leaves swirling through the air. Since arriving at the docks at the age of nine, Lydia had never set foot outside the city limits of Boston, and the countryside was beautiful. She would be dazzled if she weren’t so nervous.

For what she intended to do today was the riskiest, most foolhardy and shocking thing she had ever contemplated. Lydia had decided she wanted Alexander Banebridge, and she intended to get him.

Sometime during that long night in the Custom House she had grown sure of it. Who else understood her so completely? Bane discerned each of her idiosyncrasies, and still he seemed to admire her. And she was so tired of being alone. When she was with Bane, she could be utterly and totally herself. Despite the easy camaraderie
they shared, he was still breathtakingly exciting to her. He was like a meteor, blazing across her world, leaving everything cold and dark when he left.

So today she intended to tell him how she felt. She could hardly do that at the Navy Yard with Willis and the others looking on. Nor did she want to do it when she had a lap full of translation work piled between them. This was the perfect opportunity to get away from her job and let him see her as a woman.

The first thing she needed to do was banish his ridiculous notion of her marrying Admiral Fontaine. As the open carriage bounced along a rutted country lane, she turned to look at him. “Have you found a suitable fiancée for Admiral Fontaine?” she asked him casually, though her hand was tightly fisted around the rail of the carriage bench.

He slanted her a look. “I presume that means you are no longer interested?”

“I never was, Bane.”

He pretended a heavy sigh. “I thought as much. Which is a shame, because it would have been the perfect political alliance, but both of you appear to be shockingly resistant to the idea. Not very logical of you, but I tried my best.”

The carriage rounded the corner, a view of rolling countryside displayed before her eyes. A white fence enclosed a huge expanse of land, most of which was an apple orchard. Bane leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Your first sight of a farm, love.”

It was a pretty scene, and her gaze devoured the sight of apple trees lined up over the rolling hills. The breeze picked up, carrying the scent of autumn leaves and newly cut grass. The bucolic landscape was probably commonplace to someone as well-traveled as Bane, but to her it was a picture of such loveliness that she felt an odd lump in her throat. A sense of well-being flooded her, and
the moment seemed infinitely precious, even more so because she was seeing it with Bane at her side. As always, he seemed to sense her mood.

“Don’t go getting all mushy on me yet,” he said. “If an apple orchard can do this to you, just imagine what is going to happen when you catch your first real sight of a cow.” They continued to lazily make their way down the rutted country lane, the carriage gently rocking them from side to side. Wasn’t this what normal people did? People who had families and someone to love them? They went out into the country for a pleasant drive, and if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that she and Bane were a pair of young lovers. They would be free to laugh and tease one another. Her fears and insecurities would not seem so overwhelming if she had someone like Bane to help her laugh them away.

She smelled the dairy farm before she saw it. As Bane pulled the carriage to the side of the country lane she could see the cows grazing in the field. From a distance they looked nice enough. Tranquil, even. But she had no desire to get any closer until Bane sprang down from the carriage and held his hand out to her.

“Hop on down, love.”

Goodness, she was putty in his hands when he was gentlemanly to her. Usually he was such a wretch, so she got all soft and malleable at the least little kindness. He helped her out of the carriage, then held her hand as she stepped over the low fence to walk across the field toward the cows.

“Watch where you place your feet,” he warned after a few steps into the field.

Lydia hoisted her skirt as she walked. “I think this is close enough,” she said after going only a few yards. The cows were huge. The size, the smell . . . everything was a little more overwhelming than she anticipated. But Bane strode ahead of her, and not for a
treasure chest of rubies would she let on that she found the huge beasts intimidating. There were no fangs or claws on the cows, so what damage could they do?

One of them swung its large head toward her, causing her to feel momentary shock. But when she looked into those huge, liquid eyes, she saw no ferocity, no sense of invasion, so she took another cautious step forward. Really, the beast must be five times her size, simply massive. Then it made an awful bullhorn noise and lumbered toward her.

She yelped. She picked up her skirts and ran, springing over cow pies and around stacks of hay before she reached the low fence and scrambled over. Bane howled with laughter behind her. “Lydia, you can’t . . . you can’t be afraid of a cow.” He could barely get the words out, he was laughing so hard.

“Never underestimate me,” she said. “That thing is terrifying.”

“Almost as horrifying as the bunnies in the hutch over there.” He faked a little shudder.

“You know, Bane, for a moment there I actually thought this was going to be a nice afternoon. That you had undergone a miraculous transformation and were prepared to behave like a gentleman.”

“Sorry, Lydia. You handed me the perfect opportunity to tease you, and it would be wrong to do anything other than grasp it with both hands.”

He sat on the fence and swung one leg over, then the other. He stood less than an arm’s length from her, looking flushed with sunlight and joy and laughter. Behind him the sky was a startling shade of blue, and the day was perfect. She locked gazes with him, took a step closer, near enough so that a deep breath would bring their bodies into contact. And she waited.

A knowing gleam came over Bane’s face. He scanned her eyes, her face, and the narrow gap that divided them. “Well, if you are
sure about passing on the admiral . . .” He cupped her face in both his hands, drew her closer, and laid a gentle kiss on her mouth.

She wanted to sink into him. The way he cradled her face between his palms was so tender, making her feel cherished. After a moment, he lifted his head and peered down at her.

“I don’t want the admiral. I want you,” she said simply.

A flicker of unease crossed his face. “You know I’m not a good long-term bet, don’t you?”

“I am not sure what that means.”

A gust of wind blew a tendril of her hair into her face, and Bane stroked it back. The sensation of his fingers caressing her brow sent shivers through her entire frame. “It means that I think the world of you, but I’m not the sort who will ever settle down and get married.”

Lydia smiled. “Bane, it was a kiss. Not a marriage proposal.” But the sense of exhilaration that flowed through her made her step closer into the circle of his arms. She could happily stand here until they both grew old and gray.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, rakish eyes still peering intently at her. “You sure about that?”

Her heart raced and nervous laughter threatened to spill out and choke her, but she wouldn’t back down now. She affected a casual tone. “I know someone of your shocking good looks must fend off women daily, so I forgive your assumption, but I don’t want to marry Admiral Fontaine, and I’m not looking for a marriage proposal from you either.” She looked into those blue eyes and felt her knees melt a bit. Hopeless infatuation would make a terrible basis for a marriage, and she would never know if these feelings could grow into something more substantial unless he allowed her to break through the amused tolerance he wore like armor.

She continued. “Think of the upside for you, Bane. It is mortifying
for me to be involved with someone so much prettier than myself.” Bane’s eyes widened in amusement, and, was it possible that he was actually blushing? Yes, there was just the tiniest trace of flush across those beautifully sculpted cheekbones.

“Good heavens, I think I’ve actually rendered you speechless,” she said. Bane still said nothing; he just kept running his fingers across her hairline while his eyes devoured her face. “Can’t we just take this one day at a time?” she finally said.

He cupped her face in his hands again, and the way he gazed down at her completely enthralled her. His thumb was gentle as he stroked the corner of her mouth.

“I will probably regret this later,” Bane said as he dipped his head and kissed her again. “But for now this feels right,” he murmured against the side of her face.

Lydia leaned into him and smiled. At least for now, she had Bane.

He should be taken out and shot at dawn for dallying with Lydia like this, but for once in his life Bane felt like a normal member of the human race. From the time he was six years old he had been an outsider, a loner, but for a few hours this afternoon he had a companion in this world.

He found a pond where he stretched a blanket and brought out a basket lunch. Perhaps he shouldn’t feel so guilty. Hadn’t Lydia said she had no serious intentions toward him? That meant he was free to indulge in a delightful flirtation and no one was in danger of being hurt. For a few weeks he could let down his guard and enjoy her company. When the time came for him to leave Boston, he would turn off whatever emotion he felt for Lydia and never look back.

He opened the picnic basket, pleased he had been able to find
something Greek in her honor. “Some authentic Greek cheese,” he said as he unloaded the basket of its bread, fruit, and a round of cheese.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had Greek cheese,” she confessed. “It sounds a little too exotic for the Laughing Dragon.”

“It seems odd that a person as well traveled as you is so inexperienced,” Bane said. “Never seen a cow, never been in the countryside . . .”

Lydia shrugged. “In case it escaped your notice, I am a
woman
, Bane. There are some limitations on what I am permitted to do in this world.”

He opened his pocketknife and cut off a corner of the cheese. “So tell me what you would do with your life if you were a man.”

Lydia took a little bite, her nose wrinkling at the pungent flavor as she considered the question. “I would like to be a great explorer like Lewis and Clark,” she finally said. “No one has ever been to the North Pole, although Karl tells me the Norwegians are trying.” She gazed into the distance, and Bane knew her dreams were carrying her a thousand miles away. “Just think what it would be like to challenge yourself like that. To keep raising the stakes until you don’t know if your mind and body can handle even another hour of what you are asking of it. I would like the chance to test myself like that.”

This was what he adored about Lydia: a rare optimism and a willingness to reach out with both hands toward any challenge thrown her way. “Why would that be important to you?” he asked.