The Bartered Bride (34 page)

He loved his wife-and he couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

Alex stared blindly at her mirror, trembling a little. To think she'd believed life in England would be blessedly peaceful. In less than twenty-four hours she'd discovered an inner darkness she'd never suspected, come close to being murdered, and had her first fight with her husband. She hadn't realized how completely she'd come to rely on Gavin's steady temper and support. Having him angry with her was deeply disturbing.

"My lady, are you all right? " Daisy asked worriedly.

Alex wondered if the girl's experiences made her fear that Gavin might turn violent. Pulling herself together, she took a steaming cup of tea from the tray. "I'm fine. My husband and I merely had a minor disagreement."

Without further comment, the maid began to pick up the previous day's garments, which had been thrown over the sofa when Alex returned from the police station too tired to ring for her maid. Daisy wore a simple but elegant dress that she'd sewn from a length of rosecolored linen Alex had given her. She had a natural sense of style that a professional dressmaker would envy. But she hadn't lost the anxiety that she'd had from the beginning. She usually looked on the verge of tears. Alex asked, "Are you happy in this house, Daisy?"

The girl looked startled at the question. "Everyone has been most kind, my lady. I've never known such kindness."

And obviously she didn't know how to react to kindness. "How are the reading lessons going? " Daisy's face lit with genuine pleasure. "Miss Hailey is a wonderful teacher. She says she's never had a student learn so fast. Yesterday I read a chapter of one of Miss Katie's books all by myself." She paused, then added conscientiously, "Miss Hailey helped with words I didn't know."

"I'm so glad," Alex said warmly. "My mother taught me to read. I remember her telling me that reading was the golden road to anywhere one wants to go."

"The golden road," Daisy repeated thoughtfully. "That's why slaves aren't allowed to read. Because the masters don't want them to learn to dream."

The quiet statement was chilling. Throat tight, Alex asked, "How did you bear slavery, Daisy? You're so bright and attractive-in a just world, you would have had so many more opportunities."

"Being attractive is no blessing for a slave girl, ma'am," the maid said bitterly. "Nor is intelligence. Because of that, Miss Amanda had me brought from the fields to the big house to train as a maid. Because she didn't like the way slaves talked, she made me learn to talk white, and whipped me when I made mistakes. As to being attractive-" She swallowed hard. "Miss Amanda's husband thought so. That's why she had me sold away from the plantation and my family."

"Oh, Daisy!" Alex stared at her, horrified. Her own experience of slavery gave her a visceral understanding of what the maid was saying-and not saying. "Slavery is evil. An affront to God and all that is best in mankind. I'm doing what I can to fight it, and will for the rest of my life."

"That's very good of you, ma'am." Daisy was polite, but her expression suggested that she thought Alex meant contributing a little money to the Anti-Slavery Society now and then. A thought struck Alex. "Please don't discuss what I'm about to say because it's potentially dangerous, but I'm seeking information that might help the Royal Navy block illegal smuggling of slaves between Africa and the Americas. Do you know anyone who might have such information? Or who might be willing to listen and collect scraps and bits of conversation in sailors' taverns? "

"My lady, don't have anything to do with slavers!" Daisy gasped. "They're too dangerous." Alex wondered what horrible experience had created such vehemence. "Yes, which is why they need to be stopped. Do you know anyone who might be able to help?"

Daisy's dark face grayed, as if some inner battle was taking place. After a long silence, she said reluctantly, "I might know someone. I would need to leave the house for several hours to find him."

"You have my permission to do so. And thank you for the attempt." Alex finished her tea with satisfaction. Daisy's friend might open a whole new line of information, perhaps even imprison a slaver. That was worth a little risk.

Gavin loved the business of tea, which was why he found comfort in moving through his dimly lit warehouse. The previous night's attack had left him with the same restiveness he felt at sea, when he sensed a gathering storm but didn't know when or how it would strike.

The warehouse was a sanctuary of peace and order by comparison. He walked along quiet aisles between tall stacks of tea chests, occasionally touching one of the bright illustrations that had been painted on the chests by factory artists in China. One stack was delicate Young Hyson while the next was partially fermented Oolong, known in Chinese as the "black dragon." There was smoky Lapsang Souchong, sturdy Congou, popular Pekoe, and many more, each with its own character. He'd learned every step of the process from the planting of tea bushes by peasants through the harvesting, processing, and packing that allowed the blessed leaf to travel halfway around the world to soothe harried Westerners.

He paused at the huge section of Earl's Blend tea, which was mixed secretly in Canton with exact proportions of tea and bergamot peel to give a clean, fruity taste. He couldn't think of the tea without thinking of Kyle, who'd developed the blend. Gavin had been lucky the day a casual encounter began what turned into a rewarding personal and business relationship. A pity Kyle was at his country estate. It would be good to discuss the situation with him.

Kyle had chosen well when he leased this building. Like all the London Dock warehouses, it was built over the famous wine vaults which stretched for acres, but the structure was spacious and secure, and being located right on the dock simplified the transfer of goods from ships to storage. The warehouse was almost full now, chests of tea stacked almost to the ceiling. The stock would gradually diminish until early next summer, when new shipments would begin to arrive.

Though the company offices directly overhead had only a faint fragrance of tea, the scent was powerful in the warehouse. Too strong for some, but Gavin didn't mind. Tea had been very good to him. So had silk, spices, and porcelain. Each commodity had its section of the warehouse, but tea was the foundation of Elliott House.

After the London office was running smoothly under Peter Spears' management, Gavin would launch something new-an elegant teahouse where busy people could stop and sample different brews and have light meals in pleasant surroundings. After that was a success, he'd open more. A place where ladies would be comfortable. He had his eye on a couple of possible locations in the fashionable West End. The teahouses would be called, naturally, Elliott House. "Hoping the tea will speak to you? " Suryo's quiet voice pulled Gavin from his musings back to the present. Suryo's office was on this level, and was the ultimate goal of Gavin's warehouse wanderings. He turned to his friend. "I suppose so, but the tea isn't being very helpful. You've heard that my wife and I were attacked in the street outside?" Suryo nodded. "And that pentjak silat came to your aid."

"If you hadn't trained me so well I'd be dead, and perhaps Alex as well." Gavin sighed. "But I didn't intend to kill two of them."

"You were protecting your wife. What man would do less?" Suryo's gaze became distant. "Killing a man with one's own hands is ... disturbing. But they are no less dead when killed by cannon, as the Helena did to the pirates in the Indian Ocean."

As always, Suryo's calm sense helped put things in perspective. Gavin pulled the Maduri dice from his pocket and tossed them to his friend. "One of the attackers threw these at me. Any thoughts about who connected with Maduri wants me dead?"

Suryo caught the dice, expression grave. "Not Sultan Kasan, I think. The connection to Maduri might be important, or it might not. Though only you and I and your lady know the truth of what happened there, the fact that you visited Maduri and found her there is known. The dice could have been brought from the island by a member of the Helena's crew and given to someone here, then used last night for misdirection." He handed the dice back. "There are many possible explanations." Unfortunately true. Gavin considered the possibilities he'd suggested to Alex. Though he'd included her disappointed suitor, Major Colwell, hiring thugs seemed too complicated for a soldier. Colwell was the sort to try to force a duel. Philip Elliott was a more convincing prospect. He was clever enough, and still unreconciled to losing the Seabourne honors, but his disappointment didn't seem homicidal.

"I'd love to trace the murder attempt back to Barton Pierce, but I can't imagine a motive," Gavin said.

"Though he's always disliked me, he's sane enough, and he certainly has no reason to kill me. I'm no threat to him, and I can't imagine him risking everything he's built to kill a man unnecessarily." Suryo nodded agreement. "I shall listen in the taverns to see if there are any whispers about the attackers who escaped."

"Thank you." That reminded Gavin of what Alex had mentioned. "By the way, I understand you've been recruited as Alex's chief investigator into illegal slaving. For God's sake, be careful."

"I am. You and your lady must be also."

"I'm taking precautions." From now on, he would always have his kris concealed on him, and when he went out he carried a swordstick. A pity he hadn't had either the night before. "Do you think your investigations might have anything to do with the attack?"

Suryo considered, then shook his head. "I'm sure no one knows what I am doing, or it would have been my life that was threatened." Gavin nodded, having reached the same conclusion. "I've asked my wife not to come down here until the danger is past. She agreed to stay home today, but I foresee arguments ahead."

Suryo gave his rare smile. "She is a lady of rare independence." And it was a mixed blessing. Katie stared down at her embroidery. "Why must I learn to do needlework when I hate it, and you admit that you hate it, too? "

"Because doing things we hate is good discipline," Alex said, only half in jest. "Also, a woman needs to have some basic skill with a needle. It could be worse. It hasn't been that long since the lady of the house had to spin her own yarn and weave her own cloth. Some women still do."

"Could I shear the sheep?" Katie asked hopefully. "I like sheep." Alex considered. "It takes a lot of strength to shear sheep, since they protest energetically. But next spring we can find some sheep that are being sheared and at least watch while it's done."

"Promise?"

"I promise." The colonel's estate had sheep. Going for the spring shearing would be an excuse to visit. Alex quite liked watching sheep herself.

Daisy entered the small sitting room, saw Katie, and started to withdraw. Noticing the maid's tense expression, Alex said, "Do you need to speak to me, Daisy?"

"Yes, ma'am, when you're free."

Alex said to her daughter, "Perhaps it's time you checked the kitchen to see what's being baked?"

"Oh, Yes!" Rescued from further embroidery, Katie bounced from the room after giving Daisy a grateful smile.

When Katie was safely away, Daisy said, "I found my friend. He knows things that can help you."

"Excellent! What does he say?"

Daisy stared at the floor. "He works in a tavern near the docks. Like me, he is American, a slave who escaped to Canada and then came here. He says he can name one of England's greatest slavers-a man who is respectable on the surface, but operates several slave ships. My friend wants to expose the devil for what he is, but who would listen to a poor black man?"

"I will listen, and I know men who will listen to me." Alex wondered if the "friend" was Daisy's sweetheart. Perhaps. The girl never talked about her private life, or the time she'd spent as Frederica Pierce's slave. Alex never pressed her. Daisy deserved, and needed, privacy.

"He says he'll meet you this evening." Daisy gave a quick darting glance. "Somewhere near the docks."

"So soon?" Alex echoed, surprised.

Daisy moistened her lips nervously. "He is frightened and might change his mind if too much time passes."

Alex could understand that, and she didn't want to lose a potentially valuable informant. On the other hand, after the previous night's attack she wasn't going to set foot in a waterfront tavern. "Will he meet Seaboume and me at Elliott House?"

Daisy hesitated. "I think he would go there. It is not far from where he works. But you must be alone. He will not talk to a white man."

"What about if I brought Suryo?"

The Islander wasn't African, but he was also not white, and his quiet presence was unthreatening.

"Mr. Suryo? " Daisy looked dismayed. "No, only you, and only because you ... you helped me." Her voice broke. "I will tell him to come early evening, after the office is closed, but before it is dark and the tavern gets busy."

Making a quick decision, Alex said, "Very well, if he will come to the Elliott House office at six-thirty this evening, I will be there alone." She would have the younger groom drive her there in the small carriage, with orders to pick her up again at the door an hour later. Gavin wouldn't like it, but he wouldn't know until later-they'd probably pass each other coming and going. It should be safe enough. And if it wasn't-she would not be defenseless.

Gavin cleared all his employees from the offices and the warehouse a little early, so they could leave in groups. Though he knew he was being over-cautious, his instincts were itching. He'd alternated his day between planning security precautions and trying to imagine who might want to destroy him. The first question had been fairly straightforward, but the second still baffled him. All he could do was try to ensure that none of his family or employees became innocent victims of violence. Yearning to talk to Alex, he rang for the butler and asked where she was as soon as he arrived home. Bard said, "Her ladyship has gone out, but she left you this note." Gavin opened it, wondering why she was out of the house at this hour.

Dear Gavin: