Yin-hsi gazed down at Struan. One of his arms lay carelessly across the pillow and he was sound asleep. The curtains on the cabin portholes were drawn tightly against the morning. It was very quiet.
Yin-hsi took off her pajamas and slid gingerly under the covers beside Struan.
The warmth of the bed excited her. She waited breathlessly, but he did not awaken. She moved closer and gently put a hand on his arm and waited. Still he did not awaken. She moved even closer and put her arm across his chest and let it rest there. And waited.
Through the mist of his dreams Struan knew that May-may was beside him. He could smell her perfume and feel her close, and he was content that the fever was far in the past and that she was well again. They were together in the sun and he could sense her well-being. He asked her what she would like for her birthday and she just laughed and pressed close in the sun, which was dark and curious and unreal but beautiful. Then they were very close and he listened to her chattering and then they were swimming together and he found this strange for he knew that she could not swim and he wondered when she had learned. Then they were lying naked on the beach, side by side, the length of her touching him. Then she began shivering and he was terrified that she had fever again and there was the monk with his bloodstained robes and the cup, and the cup took May-may’s fever away and then there was darkness. But the clouds were above and it was dark when it should have been day and Fong was shouting from the waves, “Tai-fung!” Then they ran from the clouds and were in bed, safe together.
He stirred in his sleep and half awoke and felt the warm, tender body touching him, and his hand strayed and he cupped her breast and felt the shiver run through her and through him.
He lay in the gloaming of the room on the threshold of awakening. Her breast was soft in his hand and he felt the hardness of the nipple.
Then he opened his eyes.
Yin-hsi smiled demurely.
Struan braced himself on an elbow. “God’s blood, what the devil are you doing here?”
Yin-hsi blinked at him uncomprehendingly. “Sup-reem —Lady—sen’—me.”
“Eh?” Struan tried to clear his head.
“Sup-reem Lady sen’ me, Tai-Pan.”
“Eh? May-may? May-may? Is she out of her head?” He pointed to the door. “Off you go.”
Yin-hsi shook her head. “Sup-reem Lady sen’ me.”
“I dinna care if you’ve been sent by the queen of England! Off you go!”
Yin-hsi pouted. “Sup-r’m Lady sen’ me!” And she planted her head firmly on the pillow and glared at him.
Struan began to laugh.
Yin-hsi was bewildered. My goodness, Supreme Lady was right. Barbarians are astounding. But I’m not moving from this bed! How dare you go to a whorehouse and make me lose face in front of Tai-tai? Am I a rotten old hag, for goodness sake? Oh no, Tai-Pan! I’m not moving! I’m very nice and I’m Second Sister and Second Lady in your house and that’s that!
“By the gods,” Struan said, pulling himself together. “I’m going to marry May-may if it’s the last thing I do. And the pox on everyone!”
He lay back and mulled what he and May-may would do at home in England. She’ll be the toast of London . . . so long as she never wears any European clothes. Together we’ll rock the society of England. Now I have to hurry home. Perhaps I can destroy the Foreign Secretary mysel’! Or block Whalen. Aye. Now the key to Hong Kong’s in London. So home—and the sooner the better.
He turned his head on the pillow and looked at Yin-hsi, and really saw her for the first time. She was very desirable. Her perfume was as exquisite as her skin.
“Ah, lassie, I’m sorely tempted,” he said.
She nestled closer to him.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The
White Witch staggered into harbor just before noon. Her foremast was gone and there was a tangle of broken spars and twisted rigging on the main deck.
Brock came alongside in a cutter as she nosed for her moorings.
“By God, someone’s to pay!” he roared as he came on deck, knowing instinctively from the shattered unreefed sails that were strewn among the halyards that the ship had been carrying too much canvas. “Wot be happened?”
“Day, sir,” Michaelmas said. He was a hard, pockmarked first mate. “I took over for Mr. Gorth. Till I knowed wot was in yor mind.” There was a lash in his huge fist. “We run into squall two hour out’ve Macao. Godrotting squall almost turned us on our beam end. Carried mast away, and blew us’n off course for fifty league.”
Brock bunched a fist and shook it in the man’s face. “Doan thee knowed enough to see squall? Doan thee knowed enough to reef in this season?”
“Yus, Mr. Brock,” Michaelmas said without fear. “But the squall come up alee. Doan curse me for squall, by God!”
Brock’s fist smashed him against the gunnel and he collapsed to the deck unconscious.
“Pennyworth!” Brock bellowed to the second mate, a thickset burly young man. “You be captain till further orders! Get storm anchors out. We be in for dirty weather.” Then he saw Culum on the quarterdeck. The seamen scattered as he climbed over the rigging and walked up the short gangway. He loomed over Culum. “Morning, Mr. Brock. I wanted—”
“Where be Mrs. Brock?”
“Below, sir. It wasn’t Mr. Machaelmas’ fault. And I wanted—“
“Shut thy face!” Brock snarled and then contemptuously turned his back on Culum. Culum boiled at the insult; Brock would never turn his back on the Tai-Pan.
“No one be allowed ashore!” Brock shouted. “Get this mess cleaned up, Pennyworth, or you’ll be beached like that bugger Michaelmas. Get him off my ship!”
He whirled back on Culum. “I be talking to thee right smartly.”
“I’d like to talk now.”
“One more word afore I’m ready and I’ll grind thee to dust.”
Culum followed Brock below and wished that the Tai-Pan were there. Oh God, how can I handle Brock? Why did we have to run into that cursed squall?
Tess was standing at the door to her cabin. She smiled tentatively and curtsied, but Brock shoved past and opened the main cabin door and slammed it behind him.
“Oh, God help us, darling,” Tess cried to Culum.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be all right.” Culum tried to level his voice and he desperately wished he had a pistol. He went to a rack and pulled out a belaying pin and motioned Tess into the cabin. “Don’t worry. He made a holy oath. He promised.”
“Let’s run while we’ve the chance,” she begged.
“Can’t run now, darling,” Culum said. “Don’t worry. It’s best to have it out now. We must.”
“So you let Tess slip out and that bugger pull wool over thy face, eh?” Brock was saying.
“Yus.” Liza said, and she was trying to contain her panic. “I were watching careful an’ I never thort, but they did an’ I be at fault. But they’s married, lad, and there baint naught we—”
“I be deciding that, by God! Wot happened with Gorth?”
She told him all she knew. “It were Gorth wot challenged Dirk Struan,” she said. She was terrified, not only for herself but even more for Tess and Culum and her man. If Tyler be going after that devil like this’n, he be a goner. “It were Gorth, Tyler. He called the Tai-Pan terrible names. An’ hit him with lash. In public he did. I tol’ Gorth to wait—to come here and get thee—but he hit me and left.”