“Oh, good.” She gave him a hug and he set her down and she looked at the painting again. “Who’s Alcaza—who you sayed?”
“A friend of mine,” Quance said gravely. “A bearded friend who watches over painters and beautiful children.”
“It’s very, very pretty,” Sarah said, her face stretched. “Run along, now, it’s past your bedtime.”
“It’s early,” Karen said with a pout. “And you promised I could stay up till Daddy goes.”
Quance smiled and cleaned his fingers with turpentine and took off his smock. “I’ll pick up my paints tomorrow, Robb.”
“Of course.”
“Well, we’d better be off.” Quance smoothed the startling purple-embroidered waistcoat and put on his gold silk frock coat.
“I like you, Mr. Quance,” Karen said. “You’re very pretty even though the painting’s awful.”
He laughed and gave her a hug and put on his top hat. “I’ll wait in the longboat, Robb.”
“Why don’t you show Mr. Quance the way, Karen?” Robb said.
“Oh yes,” she replied and danced to the door. Quance followed her out like a peacock.
“Are you feeling all right, Sarah?” Robb asked solicitously.
“No,” Sarah said coldly. “But that doesn’t matter. You’d better go. You’ll be late.”
“I’ll stay if it’ll help,” Robb said tautly.
“The only thing that’ll help is the coming of the baby, and the ship to home.” Sarah peevishly brushed a lank strand of hair out of her eyes. “And away from this accursed island!”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” he said, unable to stop himself, his anger swamping his resolve not to quarrel. “Nothing to do with Hong Kong!”
“Ever since we had it, there’s been nothing but trouble,” she said. “You’ve changed, Dirk’s changed, Culum, me. For the love of God, what’s going on? We’d finally decided to leave—then we’re bankrupt. We’re all frightened to death and quarreling hideously and poor Ronalda and Dirk’s family dead. Then the bullion saves us, but oh no, Dirk grinds you into a corner and you’re too weak to get out, so you swear you’ll stay. Culum hates Dirk and Dirk hates Culum and you’re stupidly in the middle, without the courage to take what’s ours by right and leave to enjoy it at home. I’ve never been late with a bairn before but now I’m late. I’ve never felt poorly before but now I feel like death. If you want a date for all our troubles starting, it’s the 26th of January, 1841!”
“That’s stupid nonsense,” he retorted, furious that she articulated what long had been simmering in his mind, and realizing that he had equally cursed that day in the brooding watches of the night. “Superstitious nonsense,” he added, more to convince himself than her. “The plague happened last year. The run on the bank was last year. We just didn’t get the news till we were in Hong Kong. And I’m not stupid. We’ve got to have money, lots of money, and a year is neither here nor there. I’m thinking of you and the children and their children. I’ve got to stay. It’s all settled.”
“Have you booked our passage home yet?”
“No.”
‘Then I’ll be glad if you’ll do that immediately. I’m not going to change my mind, if that’s what you think!”
“No, Sarah,” Robb said icily, “I don’t think you’ll change your mind. I was waiting to see how you felt. We’ve plenty of ships available. As you well know.”
“A month from today I’ll be fit enough and—”
“You won’t, and going so quickly’s dangerous. Both for you and the child!”
“Then perhaps you’d better escort us home.”
“I can’t.”
“Of course not. You’ve more important things to do.” Sarah’s temper snapped. “Perhaps you’ve another heathen whore ready and waiting.”
“Oh shut up, for God’s sake. I’ve told you a thousand times—”
“Dirk’s got one on the island already. Why should you be different?”
“Has he?”
“Hasn’t he?”
They stared at each other, hating each other.
“You’d better go,” she said, and turned away.
The door opened and Karen danced into the room. She jumped into her father’s arms, then ran to Sarah and embraced her.
“Daddy’s arranging our ship home, darling,” Sarah said, feeling the baby kicking violently in her womb. Her time was very near at last, and she was stabbed with untoward fear. “We’ll have Christmas at home this year. Won’t that be wonderful? There’ll be snow and carol singing and wonderful presents. And Father Christmas.”
“Oh good, I love Father Christmas. What’s snow?”
“It’s all white—the trees and the houses—it’s rain that’s become ice. It’s very pretty, and the shops will be full of toys and wonderful things.” Sarah’s voice trembled and Robb felt the knife of her torment. “It’ll be so nice to be in a real city again. Not a—not a wilderness.”
“I’ll be off now,” Robb said, consumed with grief. He kissed Sarah briefly and she imperceptibly turned her face away, infuriating him once more. He hugged Karen and walked out.
Mary Sinclair put the finishing touches to her coiffure and pinned into place the tiny coronet of wildflowers that Glessing had sent.
Her dress—jet-black Shantung silk, bustled and flowing—was worn over many petticoats that rustled as she moved. It was cut fashionably to reveal bare smooth shoulders and swelling breasts.
She studied her reflection dispassionately.
The face that looked back at her from the mirror was strange. There was an untoward loveliness in the eyes, no color in the cheeks. The lips were deep red and glistening.
Mary knew that she had never looked lovelier.
She sighed and took up the calendar. But she knew that there was no need to recount the days again. The total would always be the same, and the discovery that had shrieked to her this morning would be the same: You’re with child.
Oh God oh God oh God.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Culum bowed politely. “Evening,” he said automatically, and another guest dissolved into the festive throng. For almost an hour he had been standing beside his father and uncle, formally receiving their guests, and he was impatient for the ritual to end.
He surveyed the dance floor. Amid the bare shoulders and multicolored gowns and resplendent uniforms and constantly quivering fans he spied Mary Sinclair. For a moment he was annoyed to see that she was chatting with Glessing. But then, he thought, you shouldn’t be jealous. Mary’s obviously the most beautiful woman in the room and George is quite right to be with her. Don’t blame him a bit.
Two bandstands had been erected on either side of the circle, one for the navy band and one for the army. When the general had heard that the admiral had agreed to lend his band for the evening, he had done the same.
The soldiers, scarlet-uniformed, were playing now. Everyone was anxious to begin dancing, but had to wait until Longstaff arrived. And he was late, which was his prerogative.