Read The Captain's Pearl Online
Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson
“No,” Samuel Catherwood wheezed. He seemed to have shrunken into the pillows on his bed. “Not the
China Shadow
.”
“The cost of repairing herâ”
“The ship is a good one.”
Angrily she slapped the papers. “You have read Bryce's reports. If we pay for the ship's repair and strain our funds, any mishap could bankrupt the company.”
“I have listened to both sides of this argument.”
Never had she been as infuriated at her father. “Why have you been having me do all this work when you had no intentions of listening to my opinion?”
“Lianne, you have shown me how competent you are and how lucky the Shadow Line and I are to have you.” He leaned back in the pillows and closed his eyes. “What you don't understand is the tie between a captain and his ship. Give Bryce a chance to prove you wrong.”
“But, Fatherâ”
He grasped the center of his chest as he groaned her name. She ran to him and loosened the collar of his robe, hoping that would ease his rasping breaths. His face became a bluish gray. Backing away, she threw open the door and screamed for help.
Hyett burst up the stairs. His coat tails flapped as he skidded to a halt.
“Send for Weston!” she cried.
Lianne ran back to her father's bed and clasped his hand in hers. She watched him strain with every breath.
“Father,” she whispered, “fight it.”
She was not sure if he heard her or not, for his eyes were closed. Pressing her forehead to his hand, she moaned. It was cool, as if his life were flowing away. Fearfully she put her fingers against the pulse in his neck. His heartbeat was too fast and uneven, but he still lived.
Lianne did not move when Great-Aunt Tildy entered to watch in silence. Slowly Father began to breathe more easily.
Hyett peered into the room and murmured, “Dr. Newberry, Miss Lianne.”
Ignoring how her heart contracted, she rose. Weston had refused to acknowledge her in public since the ball, but she cared only that he could help her father.
Weston nodded toward her great-aunt as he pulled his hat off. He shoved it into Hyett's hand and brushed past Lianne as if she did not exist.
“What happened?” He aimed the question at Great-Aunt Tildy.
“Ask Lianne. She was with him.” The older woman's taut voice warned that she was furious at his actions.
Reluctantly he turned to Lianne. “Well?”
“We were talking. He clasped his hand over his chest and had trouble breathing. He is doing better now.”
Opening his satchel, he growled, “This isn't an exhibition, Miss Catherwood. I trust you'll leave me to deal with my patient, or your father's condition will be on your conscience.”
Lianne choked back a gasp. She had not wanted to believe that he had courted her only to obtain the Shadow Line, but she could not deny it any longer.
When Great-Aunt Tildy put her hand on Lianne's arm, Lianne said, “I shall wait in the back parlor.”
“If you don't leave soon, Miss Catherwood, I shall be able to tell you that you caused your father's demise.”
“Weston Newberry!” snapped Great-Aunt Tildy. “Recall your manners.”
His jaw jutted in rage, but he bent to his task.
In the hallway, Great-Aunt Tildy framed Lianne's face in her hands. “Be strong, child. Your father's pain will pass as it has before, and so shall yours.”
Lianne did not pretend to misunderstand. “I thought he loved me.”
“It no longer matters, for you must go on with your life.” She sighed when she heard raised voices from the back hall. “Go to the parlor while I calm the servants.”
“I canâ”
“Do as you are told, child.”
Lianne hugged her great-aunt, then went down the stairs. Hurrying into the back parlor, she drew the pocket doors closed. She did not want to be disturbed. As she walked aimlessly through the room, she ran her fingers along the piano and gazed at the hearth, trying not to think about a future without her father.
When one of the doors slid open, she spun to see Weston. He scowled as he held out a brown bottle. When she turned it to read the label, he snapped, “It's nothing more than laudanum, Miss Catherwood.”
“Opium?” Shaking her head, she held the bottle out to him. “I won't have my father taking this.”
“It eases the pain of the dying.
Her face blanched as she heard his pleasure in telling her this. Never would she have guessed he could be so cruel. “There must be something else you can prescribe, Weston.”
“I would prefer to be addressed as Dr. Newberry, Miss Catherwood. And laudanum is the best I can offer him.”
“When I think of what my uncle did to get opium, Iâ”
“Uncle? The same one who sold you into a brothel?”
“Yes,” she answered, knowing it was useless to lie. “That's what it does to people. I shan't inflict it on my father.”
He placed the bottle on the piano. “If you wish your father to die in pain, that's your choice, Miss Catherwood.”
“You know that's not true!”
“Do I?” He pulled the pocket doors closed, then grasped her arm, tugging her to him. “You lied about so many things. How do I know if anything you have said is true?”
“If you had really loved me, you would have known.”
“Love? What does a whore know of love?”
“I am not a whore!”
“You were.” His lips curled. “And you can be again.” His mouth clamped over hers.
Lianne moaned as his lips pressed viciously into hers. His arms imprisoned her against him. When his tongue forced its way into her mouth, she gagged. He laughed, the savage sound spiraling down her throat. He ripped the pins from her hair.
When she drew in a deep breath, he hissed, “Go ahead and scream! How much more do you think your father's heart can endure? One shriek should kill him.”
“Weston, please, don't do this.”
“Why not?” His brown eyes gleamed with fury. “Why should I be the only one denied you, harlot?”
His hand slid along her side. His breath burned her face as he stroked her eagerly. When she moaned with disgust, he laughed.
“That's right, harlot. Act as if you can't wait to satisfy me.”
She tried to push his hands away. “No, Weston, not like this.”
“Then how?” he demanded viciously. “What was it that Trevarian said? You pressed your head to his feet before you pleasured him?”
A soft cry escaped from her as he forced her to her knees in front of him. In desperation, she raised her fist and struck him in the abdomen. With a groan, he released her. She leapt to her feet and raced toward the door. He caught her sleeve. Jerking her arm away, she heard material rip. She reached for the latch, but his arm around her waist pulled her backward.
He pinned her to the wall and gave her no chance to plead for him to stop before he hooked his fingers in her collar. It ripped easily. With a triumphant laugh, he bent to taste the skin hidden beneath her dress. She wanted to scream for help, but she did not dare, even when he shoved her to the floor. She thrashed beneath him.
“No!” she cried when he lifted the hem of her gown. “Stop!”
“An excellent suggestion,” said a voice deeper than Weston's.
Lianne saw Bryce's fury as he grabbed Weston and flung him aside. She ignored the crash as Weston struck a table.
“Lianne, are you hurt?” Bryce asked as he knelt beside her.
Trembling, she held her ripped dress closed and shook her head. “Behind you, Bryce!”
A brass lamp crashed against him, sending him sprawling across her. He jumped to his feet.
Lianne pressed her hands to her mouth as Bryce ducked beneath Weston's fist. Bryce grinned as he struck Weston's nose.
As Weston collapsed, Bryce rubbed his knuckles. “It has been too long since I enjoyed a good fight.” He held out his hand to her.
She started to reach for it, then hesitated.
“Blue eyes,” he said softly, “I am not Newberry. I don't want to hurt you.”
“He thought I was what you once accused me of being.” She slowly stood without his help.
“A whore?” He gave her a lopsided smile. “You don't play the role well.”
“He was going toâ”
“He didn't.” He drew her against him.
As his arm encircled her, she put hers around his back. His heartbeat under her ear leapt at her touch. Clinging to him, she breathed in scents of salt and tar. He could not leave the repair of his ship to his crew. She thought of Father's words. Maybe she did not understand the bond between Bryce and the
China Shadow
. Or between Bryce and her.
“What is this?” asked Great-Aunt Tildy from the doorway. She stared at Lianne's ripped gown in horror. “Lianne, what happened here?”
“Miss Catherwood,” Bryce said, his voice low with his rage, “Lianne has done nothing wrong. This is the result of my instructing the good doctor in good manners.”
Great-Aunt Tildy examined Lianne's dress. “Weston did this?” When Lianne nodded, Great-Aunt Tildy jabbed the senseless man with her foot. “Get up, Dr. Newberry.”
“I'm afraid he's not quite with us.” Bryce laughed.
“You shouldn't have struck him so hard. Now we shall be cursed with him until he wakes.” With a martyr's sigh, Great-Aunt Tildy said, “Lianne, take whatever medicine he gave you up to your father. He's awake and wondering where you are. Change first. I don't want him to see you like this.”
Bryce reached for the bottle placed on the piano. “What is wrong with the captain?”
“He had a spell earlier,” Lianne said. “That's when we sent ⦠that's when we sent for the doctor.”
When her fingers closed around the bottle, his grazed them so slightly that if it had been anyone else, she would not have noticed. A flicker of lightning coursed along every nerve, leaving a bone-deep ache to be in his arms again. That yearning propelled her feet up the stairs and away from the man who could offer her everything she wanted.
But he would not.
Lianne tried to lose herself in long work, so she did not have to think about the mess her life had become. After Weston had been roused, he had reeled out of the house, vowing never to return. That threat meant little, for her father's condition had worsened. Although she tried to be cheerful, she found it difficult to watch him fade more each day. She was thankful for the visits from Mr. Simmons and from Bryce, because they could offer him a camaraderie she could not.
Despite her distress, she tried to keep the Shadow Line running. When she had traveled today to New Bedford to speak to her father's lawyer, she had gone alone, for in the aftermath of Bryce's announcement, there was no need to worry about her reputation. Mr. Lodge treated her well, but she could tell he was uncomfortable dealing with a woman.
As the carriage turned through the stubborn fog into the driveway of the Catherwood house, Lianne smiled. The lawyer had not been as uneasy about dealing with a woman as with one who seemed to know more about the business than he did. Her questions had left him sputtering and agreeing to gather more information.
Hyett met her at the door and took her damp cloak. When she turned to the stairs, he said, “The captain isn't upstairs, Miss Lianne.”
She clutched the newel post. “Where is he?”
“With Captain Trevarian.”
Lianne pushed herself away from the stairs. “Why did father come down to meet with him? They have spoken upstairs every other day. Are they in the back parlor?”
“No, on the
China Shadow
.”
“The
China Shadow
?” She took her cloak and threw it over her shoulders. “Is he mad? My father isâ”
“It was Captain Catherwood's decision to go.” Hyett shifted from one foot to the other, looking like a naughty boy.
“I'm going down to the harbor andâ”
A commotion on the porch halted her. She threw open the door and saw Bryce climbing the steps with a blanket wrapped bundle in his arms.
“Move aside,” he ordered through gritted teeth, “so I can get the captain out of the damp weather.”
She gasped. The bundle in his arms was Father! Stepping back into the foyer, she watched as Bryce carried her father up the stairs. She started to follow.
“Wait down there,” Bryce said.
“Don't give me orders in my own house!”
“Your father's orders while he changes out of these wet clothes.”
She nodded, wishing she had held her tongue. “I will have some hot tea sent up to him.”
Lianne was coming back from the kitchen when she saw Bryce's shadow descending the stairs. She stood at the bottom of the steps and crossed her arms over her chest. “How could you?” she asked. “This could have killed him.”
“It didn't.” Bryce brushed past her and went into the back parlor.
Lianne followed, closing the door behind her. As her silk gown caressed the carpet, she asked, “Whatever gave the notion to take Father out to the
China Shadow
?”
“Actually we rowed out into the harbor.”
“What convinced you to do something so stupid?”
He smiled as he sat on a settee. “Not what. Who. Captain Catherwood asked me to take him out after I showed him the
China Shadow
. Faith, Lianne, he's a man, not a child!”
“He's very ill. He could die at any moment.”
“Any of us could.” Rubbing his shoulders, he grinned. “I haven't rowed a jolly boat that far in a long time.”
Lianne perched on a chair. “Why did Father choose today to go out to the
China Shadow
? It's so cold and damp.”
He crossed his leg over the opposite knee and loosened his collar. “The captain wanted to talk. There is no place more private than the center of the cove.”
“What did he want to talk about?”
Reaching across the table between them, he tilted her face up. “Blue eyes, all his thoughts are of you. You are why he has fought his failing heart this long.”