The Captain's Pearl Page 2
Lian smiled as Mother finished the tale she had heard so often. It was her favorite among the ones in the stories box.
Her smile faded. The thousand stories box! She wished that she had never seen it. How could Mother have dishonored them by insisting that Lian present herself to a Yang Kuei-tzŭ as his sister? It was one thing to listen to the tale of how her father had been a great captain of a wondrous ship from distant America. It was quite another to come face-to-face with her father’s son who shared her blue eyes—eyes that had condemned her as a mixed-blood abomination.
She glanced around the hut. They had moved often, taking their possessions from one hovel to another. The only constant had been the box that her mother used to teach lessons a daughter should learn.
As if she could hear Lian’s unsettled thoughts, Mother said, “Your father was a man of great honor. His son, I hear, is the same. He will welcome you into his family.”
“But I don’t want to be welcomed into the family of a Yang Kuei-tzŭ.”
The wrong thing to say, she knew, when her mother’s face crumbled. Dear Mother! She had sacrificed the luxurious life she could have had within Canton’s walls because she would not deny her only child.
“Lian, I have told you often how like the willow, whose name you bear, you grow strong and tall from many roots. You have the roots from your Chinese past, but you have a heritage that is American as well.” Closing the box and placing it in its place of honor in front of the family altar, which was the only piece of furniture in the hut, she said, “Tonight, Captain Catherwood will acknowledge you as his sister.”
“I am not so certain.”
“I am. He will not deny the truth which he saw in the thousand stories box last night.” Mother looked at it. “Even his companion could not persuade him otherwise.”
“No.” Lian said nothing else, for even a single word could betray her apprehension each time she thought of the green-eyed man. Others among the Yang Kuei-tzŭ had tried to touch her. Others among the Yang Kuei-tzŭ had offered Mother money for her. Not one had disconcerted her as this Yang Kuei-tzŭ did. Maybe it had been his demon green eyes that glowed like sunshine on the river, but she could not rid herself of the memory of his touch—brazen and yet gentle. Something in his jade gaze had stolen her heartbeat for a single moment, frightening her.
As someone knocked on the wall, Lian rose from the dirt floor, as a good daughter should, to answer. Only with Mother was she so obedient. It had been different when Mother’s Father was alive. She had loved him, and, with his death three months ago, all joy had vanished from her life and from her mother’s.
When Lian pulled aside the tattered cloth hanging in the door, she dropped to her knees, scowling. Mother’s Younger Brother did not deserve respect. Ch’en Keung had become head of the family on his father’s death and delighted in his tyranny over his family, especially his older sister Mei and her child.
Lian remained on her knees, watching the hem of her mother’s skirt move toward the door. Only when Mother’s Younger Brother gave his permission could she rise. She knew he would wait until her whole body ached. Not that she minded. She did not want to look upon his dull hair and sickly skin that contrasted with her mother’s beauty.
“It is time,” he stated in his squeaky voice. “Lian comes with me.”
“Younger Brother, give me just one more week. Surely you have not completed all the arrangements with the honorable merchant Han Yuan-yin to take Lian into his household.”
His laugh grated on Lian’s ears. “You should be grateful anyone wants a woman with the eyes of a Yang Kuei-tzŭ.”
“Younger Brother,” Mother said, “you must remember that our father agreed I should find Lian’s father.”
“I tire of seeing her hideous face.” Ignoring his sister’s gasp, he ordered, “Rise, Lian, and come with me.”
Slowly she stood. Grief swept through her as she saw her mother’s tears. “Mother’s Younger Brother, allow me a chance to say farewell to my mother.”
“Listen to her, Mei! She speaks to me as if I were a child.”
“Her request is reasonable,” Mother said quietly. “She does our family honor by being so loving.”
Shoving Lian out the door, he snarled, “I hope she shows that devotion to her new master. If she pleases him, he may not slay her for her ugliness.”
“Mother!” Lian cried. She swallowed her sobs as he pushed her along the street. She would never see her mother again. Her place would be in the gardens of the opium merchant’s house. There she would live out her life, waiting upon his commands and bearing his children. She would not be his wife, for Mother’s Younger Brother was correct. With her strange eyes, she was ugly.
“Cease your mewling!” Mother’s Younger Brother thrust her to the ground. “Look! The daughter of an American pig wallowing in the mud.”
“My father is no pig!”
“He never returned to look at your hideous face, did he?”
“My brother—”
When he jerked her to her feet, she stared at the odd glitter in his eyes. Horror filled her. Mother’s Younger Brother was an opium eater.
Gripping her chin, he tilted her head back. “What brother?”
“Captain Catherwood.”
“The name your sluttish mother says belongs to your father.”
“And to my brother.”
“How do you know you have a brother?”
Lian kept her voice even. “Mother found him last night.”
He laughed. “Then why are you still with her?”
“My brother was unsure if I am his sister.” She was about to explain, but bit back the words. Until last night, Mother never had shown the thousand stories box to anyone but her and Mother’s Father. Mother had warned her never to speak of it.
Mother’s Younger Brother laughed. “He did not wish to claim you.”
“That is not true.”
He spat on the road. “That is what I think of your lies. Come. He waits for you.”
Lian considered dragging her feet, but she would not shame her mother by being disobedient. She must go with Mother’s Younger Brother and pray her new master would be merciful.
When Mother’s Younger Brother turned into the street the foreign devils called Hog Lane, she hunched her shoulders. She did not want to be touched by a drunken man. She heard a man being ill, and she tried not to stare. Gripping her arm, Mother’s Younger Brother herded her through a gate.
Lian’s eyes widened in horror. Mother occasionally did sewing for the owner, but she had never allowed Lian to come to the brothel. Shaking her head, she planted her feet firmly.
“Come!” Mother’s Younger Brother yanked on her arm.
“Mother does not want—”
“Her wishes no longer concern you.” Mother’s Younger Brother prodded her toward a building in dire need of repair. The archway tilted, and several boards were missing on the steps. When she tripped on a loose one, he pushed her into the dim interior, calling, “Sun Niang? We are here.”
From the dark recesses emerged a huge phantom. As its shadow crept over her, Mother’s Younger Brother seized her arm, keeping her from fleeing.
“Where is the girl you bring me, Ch’en Keung?” asked the shadow.
“Here she is. Take her and use her as you wish.”
Lian gasped, “But this is not the house of—”
“Silence.” Mother’s Younger Brother pressed her onto her knees before the huge man who wore a floor length robe over his trousers.
Long fingers lifted her face. She remained silent as she met the stare above his long mustache. His lips twisted in distaste. “She is a bizarre creature.”
“Perhaps appealing to the depraved tastes of Americans.”
“Yes, the foreign devils have no appreciation for beauty, but even an American must deem this ugly.”
“Honorable Sun Niang, she shall earn you many taels, for she is young.”
“Not even one night. No one woul
d want her.”
Mother’s Younger Brother would have to take her home. Lian whispered a prayer of gratitude to Mother’s Father’s spirit for watching over her.
Fear returned to strangle her as Mother’s Younger Brother said, “I give her to you for one night for nothing. See what she can earn for you. If she earns enough to make it worth the price I ask, you may pay me then.”
Sun Niang stroked his mustache. “I shall take her for tonight, but you must pay for her food.”
Mother’s Younger Brother dropped some coins into his hand. “Sister’s Daughter, now you shall have the life for which you are fit.”
She grabbed his trousers. “I plead with you in the memory of the father you share with my mother, do not shame our family.”
“You are what shames us.” He slapped her hands away. “The curse has been excised.”
Lian leapt to follow him. When Sun Niang caught her arm, she tried to pull away. His fingers dug into her arm until she moaned. He threw her to the floor, knocking out her breath in an explosion of pain.
“Get up!” he ordered.
When the order was repeated, she found the strength to rise to her knees. Anguish sent nausea through her.
“Get up!”
She knew the price of disobedience. Pushing against the floor, she stood. She lowered her head as she faced her tormentor.
Sun Niang said, “Disobey, and you will die.”
Lian nodded.
“Come, woman.”
She said nothing. To speak was to chance more abuse.
Sun Niang led her into the fading sunshine. The inner courtyard was even more despicable than the outer, but, when she saw what awaited her there, she was sure few who entered it noticed.
A dozen small shacks filled the garden. She stared at the brazen women who were dressed in silk drapes. Her hand went to the collar of her ch ’eŭng shaam. She had heard how the foreign devils’ women bared their bodies, but she had never imagined a Cantonese woman would be so bold.
Sun Niang pointed at a little shack which was half the size of the hut she had shared with Mother. The strands of rice in the doorway struck her, and she moaned in dismay. On the earthen floor was nothing but a pallet.
“You shall stay here.” Sun Niang shoved silk into her hands. “I usually check my new girls to be sure they are virgins.” With a laugh, he pushed aside the rice curtain and squeezed through the narrow door. “I need not worry with you, ugly one. No man could look upon you with desire.” He walked away.
Lian closed her eyes to hold in tears. She could not change the color of her eyes, but she had begged Mother to let her have her feet bound. Mother had told her that no daughter of an American sea captain would bind her feet. Not that it mattered now.
Holding up the light blue drape, she shivered. She was of the family of Ch’en, although she had not been permitted to claim the name. Daughters of her family had been sold as concubines to the finest houses. None had been prostitutes. Yet to disobey Sun Niang meant death. She turned her back on the door as she undressed.
The silk slipped along her skin, caressing her. In other circumstances she might have enjoyed the luxury. She sat on the reeking pallet and cursed Mother’s Younger Brother to be tormented for all eternity by every green-eyed demon in hell.
Green eyes!
She shuddered again. How had she failed to see that the Yang Kuei-tzŭ with the green eyes was an omen for disaster?
“Mother’s Father,” she whispered, “send me salvation. I will do whatever I must to flee from this.”
Voices approached the shack. Lian looked up. Surely they would pass by, as others had all night. Sun Niang had been right. No man wanted her.
Horror clamped around her throat as the rice curtain was pushed aside. Sun Niang pointed to the dirt. Although every inch of her rebelled, she dropped to her knees and pressed her head to the earth.
“She is a virgin, kind sir,” said Sun Niang in a wheedling voice. “A rare pearl.”
She heard coins being counted. As the rice curtain rattled into place, she recoiled as fingers brushed her shoulders.
“Lian, rise. Look at me, please.”
She gasped at the thickly accented Cantonese speaking her name. A finger under her chin brought her face up, and she stared into blue eyes. Davis Catherwood!
“Lian,” he whispered. “Remember? Brother Davis.”
Sitting back on her heels, she looked past him. Was his demonic comrade here, too? No, thank the gods. But Davis Catherwood had accused Mother of lying. If he had not believed Mother, why was he here? There was, she realized, only one reason. He wanted a woman. How could he call himself her brother and be here?
He put his hand out to her, but she cowered away. If there was any chance he might be her brother … a tremor ached through her stomach.
“No afraid. I—” He paused and growled in English, “What’s the word I want?”
“I speak English. Small bit.”
“That’s right. Your mother said that.” His smile contained warmth, but she watched him warily. She could not guess what a foreign devil might do. “Lian, don’t be afraid. You’re my sister. You don’t want to stay here, do you?”
She shook her head.
“How did you get here?” Davis wondered what would have happened to Lian if one of the men from the China Shadow had not mentioned seeing a blue-eyed Chinese woman being forced into Sun Niang’s whorehouse.
“Mother’s Younger Brother sold me,” Lian whispered so lowly he had to strain to hear her. “Because of my ugly face. This was his way of freeing the family of shame.”
Davis’s lips tightened. “Ugly? Is that what they tell you? That’s odd, because my first mate Bryce has mentioned surprisingly often how lovely you are.”
“First mate Bryce?”
“The man with me last night. His name is Bryce.” Sitting on the stained pallet, he tried not to stare. His sister should not be dressed like this. “Lian, you are my sister. What type of beast do you think I am?”
Lian lowered her gaze. “I know little of the ways of the—of the—”
“Go ahead. Say it.” He laughed roughly. “To you, I’m sure we seem like foreign devils. Well, this foreign devil has come with an offer.”
“An offer? What does that mean?”
He whispered, “Let me take you home.”
“To Mother?” Happiness danced through her, then faded. “Mother’s Younger Brother will bring me back here.”
Folding her fingers in his rough hands, he said, “Let me take you to America. Home. With our father. Your father and my father.
Lian stared at him. Was he mad? So often Mother had told her stories of Captain Catherwood, but to Lian he was a myth, like the other tales in the thousand stories box.
“Lian, do you want to go?”
“To America?” She shook her head. “This is my home.”
“This will be your home if you stay here.” He flung out his arm and grimaced when his hand struck the wall. “I cannot believe you want to whore for that bastard out there.”
“I cannot leave Mother alone.”
“If we take your mother with us, will you come?”
Even as Lian smiled, Davis wished he had not offered this rash promise. His father had never mentioned a Chinese mistress, but Davis could not leave his sister in this dung heap. Bryce was right. She was beautiful. From her downy cheeks to her slender chin, she teased a man’s fingers to touch her. The smooth skin along her neck drew his eyes down to the gentle curves beneath …
Davis gulped and stood. “Get dressed!” Heaven above, he should not be staring at his sister like this.
“Sun Niang must have taken my clothes when he brought you in!”
“You cannot leave like this.” He grinned and patted her arm. “Wait here. I’ll get you some clothes.”
She grasped his arm. “Do not leave me here, Captain Catherwood.”
“You should call me Davis, little sister,” he corrected gently. “Don’t wo
rry. I will give Sun Niang a few extra coins to convince him to offer you to no one until I return.”
“He will cheat you.
“Trust me, little sister. I know how to deal with him.”
When he kissed her cheek, Lian stared at him in astonishment. Maybe Davis Catherwood would bring the happy ending to Lian’s story as Mother had hoped.
Lian sat on the pallet and strained to hear Davis negotiating with Sun Niang in the courtyard. They stood too far away. Footfalls fading in the distance warned her brother was leaving. When he returned, he would take her and Mother to America.
A rattle warned her to kneel. Renewed terror cut through her. Had Davis failed to persuade Sun Niang not to sell her to anyone else?
“You have found much favor with that American, ugly one.” Holding a handful of money close to her lowered eyes, Sun Niang chuckled. “He pays highly. Treat him well, ugly one. Soon the Americans will sail away. If you fail to pleasure the Cantonese, you shall die.”
He left, giving her no chance to answer. Not that she wanted to. If she had met his eyes, she might have revealed she was going to escape. She and Mother would be together again. Even being banished to America was not too high a price to pay. She would do whatever she must to repay her brother … even if it took the rest of her life.
Three
Footsteps stopped in front of Lian’s hut. The rice strands were thrust aside, and a man stepped through—a man she could not forget, although she had seen him but once. His face was sharply carved like the gods on the family altar. When he grasped her arms, she was sure his muscles must be as hard as stone. The breadth of his shoulders seemed too wide for this hut, but she paid no attention as she stared into his green eyes.
Bryce! What was he doing here? Had something happened to Davis?
Before she could ask, he hissed through his mustache that was as ebony as his hair that fell past his collar, “Stop staring like a fool.” He cursed when his head hit the low roof. “Kneel to me.”