China Rose

by Canham, Marsha

  "You have not upset me, Sir. I am simply weary after a very long day. Moreover I am sure you and your brother have a good many things to talk about if you've not seen each other for several months. So if you gentlemen will excuse me...?"

  "You see that, Eugene, we have indeed frightened her away. And just when we were becoming intimate."

  Eugene laughed. "Then I am glad I arrived when I did. You should be too, Miss Grant. One thing you must always remember about this household is that we are all unconscionable rogues. Never trust a one of us with a confidence, never rely on us in a tight situation, and never, never let us think we have a chance of winning your heart. That would, of course, include Ran, who hasn't had a heart of his own for a good many years."

  China's voice had a nicely frosted edge to it. "Goodnight, gentlemen."

  Justin caught at her hand before she could turn to leave. He raised it and pressed it to his lips, holding it there with a crooked smile.

  "Goodnight...China Rose."

  She retrieved her hand and exited the room with as much dignity as she could muster, but as soon as the door closed behind her, she fled along the hallway, her robe belling out like a white cloud in the gloom. She did not slow down until she was safely back in her room, in her bed, with the quilts and sheeting pulled up tight to her chin.

  ~~

  China was not certain how long she slept before she was awakened by the sound of a softly creaking floorboard. Her eyes opened instantly. The even softer, grating whisper of a door being stealthily closed came to her from across the room and she sat bolt upright in the bed, staring at the heavy shadows.

  Someone had been in her room! The creak she had heard was from the area at the foot of her bed--she had trod on it several times herself while she had paced the floor. Whoever that someone was, they had approached the bed and stood looking down on her while she slept.

  China jumped from the bed and was at the door in seconds. She yanked it wide and dashed out into the hall, but most of the candles had burned well down in the sconces and the shadows were as thick here as they were in her room. No one was moving toward the stairs, beating a hasty retreat. There were no sounds other than the beating of her own heart. Or were there?

  When she turned to check behind her, she came face to face with Justin Cross.

  "We meet again," he said quietly.

  "What are you doing here? What were you doing sneaking into my room?"

  "Your room?" He glanced over her shoulder into the bedroom. "Someone was in your room?"

  "Not thirty seconds ago," she countered furiously. "Are you denying it was you?"

  "Miss Grant, if it had been me, I can assure you there would be no question in your mind about it."

  China bristled when she saw where his eyes were roving. The lacing on her nightdress had come loose, revealing a pale swath of flesh below her neck. She snatched the edges together with an indignant gasp.

  "If it wasn't you, then who was it? You must have seen someone leaving my room. If you were standing here, whoever it was had to have run past you."

  "I wish it were so, Miss Grant, but I just now stepped out of my own room." He pointed directly across the hall. The door was ajar, spilling the light from within onto the gleaming wood floor. "I too heard a noise and--"

  "You're lying. It was you!"

  The gray eyes narrowed and his right cheek flinched with a brief tic. "I may have many faults, Miss Grant," he said evenly, "but I do not count lying to half-naked, frightened little girls among them. It was not me."

  China did indeed feel like stamping her foot like a frustrated child. For some reason she believed him and that made her feel like an even bigger fool, and when she spoke, her words were brittle with sarcasm.

  "Once again I shall bid you goodnight Sir. In the event you should hear anyone else out in the hall tonight, you may inform them I shall be sleeping behind locked doors from now on."

  "Does that apply to the good doctor as well?"

  China's mouth dropped open. She turned and stormed back into her room, closing the door with a resounding slam. Hearing his soft laughter through the wood, she twisted the key savagely in the lock and took the cold brass comfort of it into bed with her.

  What was it Eugene Cross had said? Never rely on any of them in a tight situation? Never trust a Cross?

  It was a discomforting thought that kept her eyes wide open until the first streamers of dawn light filtered through the curtains.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sir Ranulf Cross discovered his brother Justin's return the next day at breakfast. The doctor was just arriving home after being out all night. There were dark, sleepless shadows ringing his eyes and his body movements were not as straight-backed and precise as they normally were. He nodded a cursory greeting to Lady Prudence and Lord Wilfred, and was only slightly less tepid toward China. He was, in fact, about to excuse himself from the morning room when the doors swung wide and Justin strode in, his polished riding boots clacking solidly on the wood floor.

  Sir Ranulf's expression froze. His jaw appeared to slacken a moment before clenching so tight, the sinews stood out in ridges.

  "Good morning all," Justin said cheerfully. "Lady Pru, Miss Grant, Lord Wilfred, Eugene--" he offered slight bows to each in turn-- "and Ran. Shall I guess by your expression that no one has told you of my arrival yet? Oh, that's right. You were out all night on a physicians call to Delancy Street. You do look a little rough for wear, brother mine."

  "Justin." Sir Ranulf's greeting was forced through the grate of his teeth.

  "How was my voyage to America? Just fine, thank you. Quite rousing, in fact. It was springtime in the Carolinas when we left. The hills were green, the trees were dripping blossoms, and I swear every woman in the colonies was giving birth after the long, cold winter."

  As he was speaking, Justin took a seat opposite Lady Prudence, who was staring at him over a forkful of dripping egg, trying to determine if she should be vastly outraged or merely offended. Sir Wilfred was genuinely pleased to see the youngest Cross, while Eugene merely chuckled quietly over his slab of ham and gravy. China, blushing from the thought that he might be brazen enough to have taken the empty seat beside her, had not fully enjoyed her relief when he leaned over and smiled at her.

  "And a special good morning to you Miss Grant. I hope you are still on speaking terms with me after the events of last night?"

  She held her breath again. He had bathed and shaved and trimmed the ragged lengths of his hair into a semblance of neatness. Also discarded were the coarse jacket and breeches stained with sea salt. The finely tailored doeskin trousers, crisp white neckcloth, and broadcloth jacket made him look less of a pirate and more of an intriguing young nobleman.

  Ranulf's cup hit the table with a bang. He glared from Justin to China, back to Justin. "Last night? What happened last night?"

  "I arrived late and was seeking liquid refreshment in the library," Justin explained with an innocent look. "Your lovely fiancée stumbled in on me by mistake and graciously acted as hostess, keeping an eye on me until Eugene arrived to guard your silverware and sundry treasures." Justin glanced at China. "You seem to have added a few since my last visit."

  Ranulf leaned back in his chair. "Still the same misguided sense of humor I see."

  "Someone around here needs one."

  "Which brings us directly to the point. Why are you here?"

  "Now there's a fine how-do-you-do. I come home to the bosom of my family after months at sea, and what am I met with?"

  "Absolutely nothing if you have come for money again...or an alibi."

  Justin grinned. "An alibi? What makes you think I would need an alibi?"

  "The last time the constables came here looking for you and you needed one?"

  "I was framed," Justin said, spreading his hands in protest.

  "You were guilty as hell," Ranulf countered. "And you were told then, that the family would no longer shoulder the burden of your responsibilities. What is it t
his time? Gambling debts? Or something more earthy perhaps--some poor girl you've gifted with a bastard?"

  Lady Prudence gasped hard enough to do herself an injury. Sir Wilfred was owl-eyed as he pounded his wife between her shoulders to dislodge the morsel of bacon stuck in her throat.

  China hardly dared to breathe. She saw the tic again, high on Justin's cheek and knew it to be a sign of danger. The gray eyes had become cold as flint and his hands had gone from resting casually on the edge of the table to wanting to crush it.

  Hoping for someone to defuse the almost palpable tension between the two brothers, she glanced at Eugene and was shocked to see a look of acute pleasure on his face. He was enjoying the confrontation, poised forward on his chair as if eager to see which of the two antagonists would let fly with a punch first.

  The sound of a low, husky chuckle sent China's gaze back to Justin.

  "I suppose I deserved that," he said. "And you may be right. I expect one of these days my wastrel ways will catch up with me and I shall walk into a crowded room and they shall all bear a striking resemblance and yearn to call me 'daddy'."

  Lady Prudence choked again. Lord Berenger-Whyte guffawed and coughed into his hand.

  Ranulf pushed to his feet, a smirk curving his lips. "As in the past, I don't expect you will be staying here long. I trust you will refrain from disrupting the servants any more than is necessary."

  "God forbid I disrupt anyone." Justin stood as well. China was surprised to see that he exceeded Ranulf in height by at least three fingers' width. He was not as broad across the shoulders, but where the one was padded with authority and fine tailoring, the other was, as she somewhat warmly recalled, sculpted from lean, hard muscle. His face was deeply tanned and his hair, which had looked a light shade of brown by candlelight, appeared to have been bleached and streaked by constant exposure to the sun. In daylight the gray of his eyes became tinted with pale blue, complimented by lashes that would have made any woman's pulse flutter if they stared at her as boldly as he was doing now.

  China blinked and looked around.

  They were all staring at her.

  "Oh!" her face and throat flooded with color for the hundredth time.

  "Justin says you thought you saw someone in your room last night," Ranulf said, repeating his comment.

  "My exact words," Justin interjected, "were that if I was offering my own fiancée

  the hospitality and protection of my home, I would ensure she felt both welcomed and protected. I would make sure she knew her way around the house, and I would be damned sure she had the only key to her room."

  "Is what he said true?" Ranulf asked, ignoring Justin's sarcasm. "Was there an intruder in your room last night?"

  "I...I thought I heard someone, yes."

  "You thought you heard someone. You didn't actually see anyone?"

  "A shadow, perhaps. As the door closed."

  "Can you say if this shadow was a man or a woman? Could it have been one of the maids? I left orders with Mrs. Biggs to see that you were comfortable in every way--could it have been one of the servants merely checking on you?"

  China nibbled on her lip. "I suppose it could have been."

  Sir Ranulf's lips tightened. "You have a key?"

  "There is one in the lock, y-yes."

  "Then I suggest you use it when you do not want the chambermaids to disturb your sleep. I will have another word with Mrs. Biggs on the matter. As for the house, if you will present yourself to the housekeeper this morning, I am certain she would be happy to take you around the house in order to familiarize yourself with the location of the various rooms, thus avoiding any--" he glanced at Justin-- "future errors."

  "Tush, no need to bother the Dragon Lady," Eugene said. "I would be more than happy to show my future sister-in-law all the nooks and crannies. I have nothing urgent planned for today."

  "Do you ever?" Ranulf glared at Eugene. "And I hardly think a tour of the billiards room or the servants' quarters...the two areas you are most familiar with...will be of much interest to Miss Grant. Besides which, Mrs. Biggs will be better able to acquaint Miss Grant with the household routines."

  Eugene smiled at China and shrugged apologetically. "I did try. You will just have to face the Dragon Lady alone."

  China bit harder on her lip. "Dragon Lady?"

  "Mrs. Biggs has been loyal to this family for over three decades," Sir Ranulf declared.

  "A pet name, nothing more," Eugene said with a wry chuckle. "Although, as a boy, I used to swear she had a tongue that could shoot flames."

  "If there is nothing else," Sir Ranulf said, rising from his seat. "I have a busy schedule today. I have ordered the carriage promptly for three, Miss Grant. Please arrange your day accordingly that we might meet with the vicar, the Reverend Mr. Fellows, at that time."

  "Yes, certainly. I--"

  Sir Ranulf was already walking toward the door. "And tomorrow we shall request an audience with Madame Rochelle to have you fitted with a new wardrobe. Mrs. Biggs informs me your closet could be much improved by adding some brighter colors. For today's meeting at the vicarage, it would please me greatly if you did not wear black. Best not to give a first impression of impending doom."

  This last was said with what could almost be a smile, though she did not know if it was directed at her, or at his own foolishness for accepting such a dour bride. It drew all eyes again toward China, to the plain black skirt and severe black bodice she was wearing. Her hair was once again coiled in a tight chignon, her sleeves fit snug to the wrist.

  "Always the gentleman," Justin murmured after Ranulf had left the room. He waited until her gaze rose to his then laughed softly. "Personally, I saw nothing wrong with what you were wearing last night."

  China's eyes flared a deeper blue and sparkled with the threat of a temper being held in check by the thinnest thread. "Whereas I saw everything wrong with what you were wearing, Mr. Cross." She delicately sniffed the air. "And I dare say we all give thanks that you had the grace to bathe this morning."

  Sir Wilfred guffawed and slapped his knee. "She's got you pinned on that one, m'boy. Pinned and blushing like a chafed gelding."

  Justin's gaze had not left her face and for a breathless moment, flickered with something that might have been admiration. In the next, he turned his focus to the large plate of food one of the servants set before him, leaving China with an inexplicable wish that the moment could have lasted longer.

  ~~

  An hour later, China was pacing the familiar length of her room again, trying to dispel some of the tension and frustration of the breakfast table. Her skirt made soft whispering sounds across the carpet and each time she passed near the foot of the bed, the floorboard seemed to mock her with its unique squeak.

  Why do I allow any of them to affect me so?

  The brothers were clearly at odds with each other, almost making it a game to see who could bait, hurt, or annoy the other first. Eugene seemed to take unholy delight in causing tension between Justin and Ranulf; Justin seemed equally willing to prod Ranulf's anger until it boiled over. And Sir Ranulf...setting aside his obvious indifference toward her and her feelings, he looked no more ready to take a wife, or even want a wife, than he would take or want sharp sticks driven under his fingernails.

  China pressed her fingertips to her temples and squeezed.

  Why? Why? Why?

  Would the situation improve or worsen after she was legally wed into the family? Would every meal be a battle of wits? Every encounter be a challenge to stay one sarcastic comment ahead of the other? Would she be continually fighting to hold her tongue, her temper, even her tears in check? Would she have to steel herself every waking hour of every day to be on guard from her own family?

  "Family?" She muttered and paced the terrace again. "This is no family, this is a dueling ground."

  God's breath, Justin Cross had been abroad for months. Absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder, was it not? Yet the first words out of Ranulf
's mouth had been edged with contempt.

  She thought of how Justin had looked last night. Those first few moments when he had mistaken her for a servant, his guard had definitely been down. His smile had been soft, his eyes tired but non-combative. His hand had even been a little shaky when he raised the brandy glass to his lips. As soon as he discovered who she was, that had all changed. He had become belligerent and insolent, and later, out in the hallway, in spite of his protests that he was no liar, she did not believe for an instant he had not been the one who had violated the privacy of her room.

  She paused by the tall, bowed window to glance out. Clouds were thickening in the distance, warning of afternoon rain. Below, in the courtyard, she could see grooms currying a pair of big bays. A commotion further along drew her eye and she saw two stableboys trying to lead a huge, gleaming roan stallion out onto the cobbles. The beast was not co-operating, rearing back and tugging on the reins, all but lifting the two boys off their feet.

  The window was open and she could hear the boys shouting, the groomsmen laughing, the roan whinnying and snorting. A familiar voice cut through the sounds and China leaned farther over the window seat for a better view. Justin Cross was greeting an aged groom as if he was a close relative, slapping him on the back, shaking his hand, ruffling the few gray hairs left on the man's head. The groom was grinning and responding with vigorous nods, even squirming and turning red in the face when Justin produced a small, square packet from his coat pocket.

  "For your wife, Billy. The last time I saw her she was fit to bursting for want of a red silk garter. I nipped this personally from the thigh of a governor's wife who was too busy to notice what my free hand was doing."

  "Bah! Ga'wn wi' ye!" The groom twisted his cap in gnarled hands. "There's ne'er been a trip yet yer fergot me Missus. She's all up in a proper tit-flap since she 'eard ye were back. She's been up since afore the cocks bakin' 'em sticky cakes yer likes so much. Might be I'll 'ave ter box 'er 'ears some ter set 'er right side up again."