CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

China bathed and put on a dressing gown. She was hardly aware of the hands that administered to her, of the voices that instructed her to go here and there; to stand for the toweling, to sit by the fire, to move to the dressing table where heated irons were twisted into her hair.  Now and then her blue eyes would lose the far-off glaze and focus on the reflection in the mirror.  She was always surprised to see how calm she looked...until she glanced past her own image and saw the wedding dress laid out across the bed.

Was it only that morning she had lain breathless and sated with pleasure in Justin's arms thinking the worst part of her life was behind her, the best just beginning?

China forced herself to watch Tina's hands flying over her hair, shaping and curling it into a slippery, glossy crown of black ringlets. Mrs. Biggs was hovering sternly in the background, supervising everyone, snapping out brisk orders to anyone caught without a task to perform. At one point she heard a crash out in the hallway and strode out of the bedroom to rail at the clumsy servant.

Tina took the opportunity to lean forward and murmur in China's ear. "I don't believe, not for a minute, what everyone is saying about Master Justin. He couldn't have kill't anyone. He couldn't 'ave."

China said nothing. There was nothing she could say without tempting a fresh flow of tears.

"Him and that Captain Savage both," Tina declared, "ridiculous what some people will say about them."

China raised her lashes and looked into the mirror. "You've met Captain Savage?"

"Oh yes m'um. A fine specimen of a man he is too. Such fine brown eyes and a smile that would set a girl's heart to fluttering, it would. Bit on the scrawny side, but nothing a few good meals wouldn't cure."

China recognized the description of Ted Bates.

"He came here late one night to fetch Master Justin," Tina continued blithely. "Real late at night it was and he made me swear as how I wouldn't tell a soul. Of course I wouldn't have, even if he hadn't made me swear. Master Justin has always been kind to me. I wouldn't ever say or do anything to bring more trouble down on his head, no I would not."

China frowned. Justin had said Bates was on shore completing last minute arrangements so that the Reunion could leave on the tide. He was to have given the signal if there was any trouble brewing. There had indeed been trouble, in the guise of Sir Ranulf Cross's boarding party of some twenty armed men, but there had been no signal, no warning from shore. Had Bates sent word to Ranulf where to find Justin and then kept carefully out of sight?

She blinked. "I'm sorry, Tina...what did you say?"

"I said I'm done, m'um." The maid's voice was clearer, louder for the benefit of Mrs. Biggs' returning ears. "An' you look just lovely m'um. Truly you do."

"Thank you Tina." China made a show of studying the coiffure but in truth saw little through the thoughts and questions tumbling through her mind. If Ted Bates was responsible, if he was the blackmailer, the murderer, the traitor, he would now assume Justin was out of the way and he would have full possession of the Reunion. What would happen when he discovered Justin was free and returning to claim his ship?

And Justin? He would be going blithely back to his ship not knowing it was Bates who had betrayed him.

Someone has to warn him.  Someone has to reach him before he returns to the ship and warn him.

She reached out, grabbing Tina's arm. "Tina...you must do something for me," she whispered urgently. "For Master Justin. He's in very grave danger and--"

"Your gown, Madam," Mrs. Biggs announced loudly from across the room. "If you are ready?"

China released Tina's arm, but kept looking into the girl's shocked face with wide, pleading eyes.

"The time, Miss Grant,"  Mrs. Biggs said again. "It is moving on."

China stood and moved woodenly into the small circle of three maids. The robe was slipped from her shoulders and carried away.

Someone has to warn him.

She stepped into the silk drawers and stood unmoving as the matching, delicate silk corselet was laced in place. White, translucent stockings were drawn on and held in place by satin tapes. The gown itself was cream colored lace over pale pink satin, so lustrous and opulent it glowed with a life of its own. The sleeves were long, the lace slashed from shoulder to elbow in the Elizabethan style with inserts of pink silk, fitted snug from elbow to wrist and shot with bands of silver thread. The bodice, cut square and low, was rose-colored, laced with silver cords, the ends of which wrapped around her slender waist then trailed almost to the hemline. Matching pink flowers had been woven into her hair, with silver ribbons left to spill down her back amidst the dark ringlets.

"Chambers has the carriage waiting out front,"  Mrs. Biggs said, nodding her approval. "Shall I tell him you will be down directly?"

A numbness had settled over China and she heard her voice, distant and hollow, replying. "Yes. Thank you Mrs. Biggs."

The Dragon Lady offered up a tight smile and swept officiously out of the room. Tina, preoccupied with collecting the train, which would be attached at the church, did not see the imploring glance China cast her way before she followed Mrs. Biggs out of the room.

Chambers, wearing his best royal blue and gold livery, met her at the bottom of the steps fronting the main entrance. He bowed stiffly and murmured his best wishes before he offered his arm to help her into the waiting carriage. Lady Prudence was already seated inside, a round, powdered face under towering hair, a bulbous figure swathed in feathers and encased in emerald brocade.

"My dear you look positively radiant," she declared. "I told His Lordship he would not be disappointed, not even in his blackest hour yesterday. That rascal of a brother of his deserves whatever punishment the courts will allow. He will know he is no match for the likes of Sir Ranulf Cross!"

No, China thought bleakly. No match at all. In the ways of deceit and evil, Ranulf stands alone. At least she, China Grant, had the leverage to see that he kept his word and set Justin free. She would not sign anything, not even the church registry until she knew Justin was safely away from the jail. After that, it did not matter. None of it mattered.

China pointedly ignored Lady Prudence during the short ride to St. Vincent's. There were two long lines of coaches crowding the tree-lined lane in front of the church, empty but for the drivers and footmen who stood at regal attention beside each vehicle.

When she descended from the carriage, she was greeted on the stone path by Sir Wilfred Berenger-Whyte, who took her gloved hand and bowed over it.

"Stunning, dear girl. Simply stunning. Just like your mother, rest her soul. The exact replica of her loveliness."

China's throat was too swollen from the strain to acknowledge the compliment.  Her composure was rapidly waning and she did not feel stunning or lovely.  She felt trapped, cornered, betrayed, and she did not think she would ever feel beautiful again.

Organ music commenced on a signal from one of the attendants outside the church. Tina finished fussing with the train and stepped back. Lord Wilfred took her arm.

This cannot be happening.

The walk from sunlight into the gloom of the church seemed a mile long. Her knees felt weak, her stomach like jelly; her mouth was dry and her eyes wet.

Justin...

The Reverend Mr. Fellows was smiling and nodding, resplendent in his flowing vestments as he led them down the aisle. Faces turned, all of them smiling. China saw Constance Pickthall lift a handkerchief and dab her eyes. She saw Eugene Cross looking bored, brushing at a fleck of dust on his sleeve.

Any moment now I will waken from this horrid nightmare. Any moment...

Sir Ranulf stood at the front of the church, his broad shoulders encased in a silvery gray buffcoat and tight white breeches. His hazel eyes glittered with smug satisfaction as he watched China's progress down the aisle. His face was darkly handsome, but his mouth was flat, the smile gloating and cruel, and she wondered what had ever made her think she could be happy with this man.

China could not bear to look at him and stared instead at the dainty bouquet of pink violets that had somehow ended up in her hands. 

Her legs faltered and she stopped.

There in the center of the violets was a single white rose.

...he would always be there if she needed him...

Justin! He was there! He had come for her!

She gasped and turned, searching the faces, searching the shadows in the vaulted niches. The blood rushed into her cheeks with the hope of a last minute reprieve, but drained again when she realized no one was there. Only Chambers stood in the doorway, his hands folded behind his back, his face unperturbed and stony.

Sir Ranulf's hand took her by the elbow and led her the final few feet to the altar. More than one startled guest had turned to look back at the door when she had, and there was a noticeable rustle and murmur of voices as they shifted back in their seats.

Ranulf's fingers dug harshly into her tender flesh. Any other time the pain would have brought a cry to her lips, but on this day, at this moment she welcomed it.

When the organ music faded to silence, the Reverend Mr. Fellows took his place and cleared his throat.

"My Lords and Ladies, good friends, we are gathered here today..."

 

~~

 

Lady China Cross stood at the entrance to the enormous grand ballroom at Braydon Hall. Her husband was by her side, conversing amiably with each guest in turn as they filed past. In the customary walk from the church back to Braydon Hall and all through the lavish banquet, Sir Ranulf had been perfectly attentive, happily receptive to the numerous compliments and well wishes bestowed upon him and his bride. She truly was lovely, if he paused to inspect her with an unbiased eye. She had changed overnight from an uncertain, awkward country girl into an intriguingly elegant woman, a credit, no doubt, to lost virginity.

He was well aware of the revulsion that coursed through her body each time he touched her or leaned to kiss her brow...which only made him do it more often. Thus far he had not even considered anything beyond the ballroom, but the more she looked daggers at him, the more she tightened that glorious mouth of hers, the more he began to think of the marital bed and the further rights to which he was entitled now as her husband.

As he watched the couples dancing and enjoying his wine, he leaned close and murmured in her ear. "You have behaved admirably well so far, Lady Cross. One would scarcely guess your thoughts were elsewhere."

She gazed calmly up at him. "They will know soon enough if you fail to keep your word."

He laughed as if they had been sharing a private lover's joke. "I have, this past hour, dispatched Chambers into Portsmouth with his instructions. He should return shortly bearing tidings that your lover is safely stowed on board the slave ship and that the vessel itself is putting on sail and heading out on the evening tide."

"How can I be sure? How do I know he has not met with some unfortunate 'accident' along the way?"

Ranulf smiled. "That would hardly remain a secret for long, now would it? Believe what you will of me, my dear, but I would not have him murdered in cold blood. In a fair fight, yes, I would not hesitate a moment. But unarmed and in chains?"

"Chains!"

"Naturally. You did not expect me to just let him walk out of jail unfettered? Even I know that would be trifling with fate. Rest easy; when the ship is far enough away from Portsmouth, and his temper has cooled sufficiently, the chains will be removed. I took the liberty of making certain he knew the nuptials were going ahead as planned, that you had been made aware of the dowry and had made the choice of your own free will to live in rose-scented luxury rather than in the stench of a slave ship."

"He won't believe you."

"Perhaps not. But he will believe the note you wrote to him."

"I did not write any notes."

Ranulf smiled and leaned to press his lips against her ear again. "You have lovely handwriting, my dear. It was not difficult to copy."

China shrank back from his touch. Pure loathing made her voice low and raspy. "I pity you, Sir, on your utter lack of conscience and humanity. That you should be driven to such lengths by greed is beyond all belief."

"It is truly lovely," he murmured, "what anger does to the color of your eyes. I look forward more and more to welcoming you into my bed."

It took all of her strength of will not to reach up and claw his face to ribbons.

"I will not be going anywhere near your bed," she spat. "That was not part of this macabre deal."

"Deals change, terms change. You forget your lover is still in chains. Those chains could seriously hamper a man if he were to fall overboard in the middle of the night."

"I thought you said that you would not have him murdered in cold blood."

"Indeed, I would not. The same cannot be said for the captain of a slave ship."

China thought at once of Ted Bates, now likely in command of the Reunion. "You mean your paid Judas, do you not?"

Ranulf feigned insult. "I'm sure Captain Meech would be stricken to hear himself called a Judas, and you may be sure he was paid a good deal more than thirty pieces of gold."

"Meech? Who is Captain Meech?"

Ranulf's eyes glittered coldly. "He is the captain of the Freedom, a rather oddly named vessel, in that it transports slaves to the Americas."

China felt her heart skip a beat. "But you said..."

"That I would arrange for Justin to be taken from the jail and put on board a slave ship. I did not specify which slave ship. As it happens, Meech was only too happy to welcome my little brother on board. He has orders to keep Justin in chains until they drop anchor in Falmouth, where they will await word from me as to his fate. Fully dependant upon how you behave over the next twenty four hours, my dear, Justin will either remain in chains for the duration of the slaver's voyage, or he will be set free to work amongst the crew. Either way, you will never see him again, but with one option, at least he has an excellent chance to survive."

"You are disgusting, Sir," she said quietly.

"And you, my dear, are wanted for a dance, I see." He beamed a smile as one of the guests approached. He transferred China's hand from his arm to the gentleman's arm and stepped back as she was led onto the ballroom floor for a quadrille. When they were in position alongside the other dancers, the music started, but China stood as still as a statue, missing the first set of formal steps.

"Lady Cross?" The gentleman frowned his concern. "Are you not feeling well? You look suddenly quite pale."

"N-no, I..." She forced a taut smile. "I'm fine, thank you. It must be all of the excitement."

"Indeed." He laughed. "You must surely feel like the luckiest young woman in all of Britain tonight."