Gossamer Page 10

  “For hiring me?” Elizabeth’s husky voice rose a notch in tone as she prepared to defend her teaching ability.

  James shook his head. “No, for wasting hard-earned cash on a foolish and futile attempt to educate worthless females.”

  “Is that what you think?” Elizabeth’s voice was crisp and sharp, icy with disdain.

  The attraction James had felt for her earlier paled in comparison to the kick of desire that coursed through his system at the appalled expression on her face and her frostbitten tone of voice. “We were talking about Lo Peng’s notions, not mine,” James reminded her.

  “What about your notions?” she asked.

  James raised an eyebrow at the question and taking that for her answer, Elizabeth pushed open the door and stepped down from the carriage and onto the sidewalk with all the dignity of Queen Victoria on Coronation Day.

  “Where are you going?”

  Elizabeth didn’t bother to answer. She simply turned and started up the walkway toward Bender’s Boardinghouse.

  James jumped from the vehicle and followed, catching up with her when she reached the front porch. “I asked you a question, Miss Sadler,” he said. “And I’m not accustomed to having my questions go unanswered.”

  “Neither am I, Mr. Craig. And your question requires no answer because the answer is quite obvious,” Elizabeth replied in the same frosty tones she had used before. “I’m going inside Mrs. Bender’s. Our arrangement is off. I refuse to work for a man who thinks himself superior and looks down upon females.”

  “Then I’d say that since most of the men in the known world consider themselves superior and look down upon females, your future employment prospects are severely limited.”

  Undaunted, Elizabeth lifted her chin. “Then I’ll just have to work for a lady.”

  James snorted at the use of that particular word in reference to Augusta Bender.

  Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder toward the boardinghouse. “I’m sure I can persuade Mrs. Bender to find a position for me on her staff. And then you’ll have your fifty dollars back with interest, in no time.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt that Augusta Bender would find a dozen positions for you on her staff,” James said in amusement. “All of them quite imaginative. Nor do I doubt that you’d earn my—fifty”—he emphasized the amount ever-so-slightly—“dollars back in record time if you hadn’t made such a powerful enemy out of Lo Peng, but unfortunately for you, I don’t think you’re going to have an opportunity to ask Augusta to take you on.”

  “And why not?” Elizabeth had never sparred with a man in her life, and two days ago she couldn’t have imagined sparring with one of the richest men in the world. But somehow, she didn’t find James Cameron Craig threatening or frightening and was, quite frankly, exhilarated by their verbal exchange.

  “Because”—James nodded toward a point at a distance behind her—“if I’m not mistaken, the luggage sitting on Augusta Bender’s porch belongs to you and those two hatchet men over there in the alley belong to Lo Peng.”

  “What?” Elizabeth whirled around so quickly she almost lost her balance. Although she didn’t see their faces, she recognized the distinctive red silk dragon she’d come to associate with Lo Peng embroidered on the back of the fleeing men’s tunics. “They’ve gone.”

  “They haven’t gone,” James told her. “They’re still watching, waiting to report the details to Lo Peng, so let’s make it good.”

  “Make what look good?” she asked in confusion.

  “This.” Without giving himself or Elizabeth time to think about what he was doing, James reached out, caught her by the hand, and pulled her up against him. Elizabeth instinctively braced herself, flattening her palms against his chest to keep from crashing into him as James put his arms around her, then dipped his head and captured her lips with his own.

  It began almost as an angry kiss, something James couldn’t prevent, but it quickly turned into something more. Fire erupted throughout James’s body as he ravished her lips and felt her sway against him. He pulled Elizabeth closer as he deepened his kiss, tangling his hands in the hair he’d so painstakingly braided back at the jail, before running them down the curve of her spine. The stiff boning of her corset frustrated him, but he continued his avid exploration with his hands until they reached the bottom of her whale-bone cage and slipped beneath her horsehair bustle. James cupped his hands around the curve of her derriere, pulling her up against his groin before he groaned in splendid agony.

  Elizabeth was overwhelmed by her response to his unexpected kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips to allow his silken tongue to slip through to sample the warm recesses of her mouth. Surrounded by his arms, his mouth, his hard masculine body, and the taste, touch, and smell of him, Elizabeth melted against him. She reveled in the hot taste of his kiss, the tangy fragrance of his shaving soap, the faintest whiff of butter and strawberry jam as she breathed in his scent and nuzzled closer to its source. James groaned again. The sound brought Elizabeth to awareness, and she finally pulled her mouth away from his. Her senses swam and her knees threatened to give way at any moment. She tilted her head back as James brushed his lips against her closed eyelids before trailing down her neck to place hot, wet kisses behind her ear on the spot where her pulse hammered to keep pace with her raging emotions. He darted his tongue into the pink shell of her ear and Elizabeth gasped in reaction, tightening her grip around his neck when her legs suddenly refused to support her weight.

  James brushed her lips with his own one last time, then quickly let her go before his kissing got too far out of hand. Elizabeth swayed on her feet as he released her.

  James reached out a hand to steady her, but Elizabeth waved him off. She stood in the center of the walkway, looking shell-shocked and thoroughly kissed, before she turned and, covering her flushed face with her hands, hurried up the front steps of Bender’s Boardinghouse.

  “Oh, no.” She sank down upon the lid of her largest trunk, then glanced at the double front doors of the boardinghouse. The outer shutters were closed over the glass-fronted doors and the window shades were pulled down against unwanted visitors. Or residents. A note attached to the brass mailbox on the wall beside the front door requested that Miss Sadler relinquish her front door key upon her return. And as she stared at the note, the slight movement of one of the window shades settling back into place caught Elizabeth’s attention.

  “It looks as if no one is at home,” James remarked dryly as he stepped onto the porch.

  “Oh, they’re home,” Elizabeth replied bitterly, remembering the surreptitious fluttering of the expensive lace curtains which hung in the windows of the homes in Providence following her first fall from grace. “But not home to me.” She opened her reticule, took out her front door key, then dropped it into the mailbox where it landed with an audible clank. “Now what?” she asked aloud of no one in particular.

  “Now we load your luggage,” James answered.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ll probably be needing your clothes,” he quipped.

  “No,” Elizabeth said, “I mean why this? I paid for my room and board a week in advance. Why would she put my things on the porch? Why throw me out into the street?”

  “Because you’ve made a very powerful enemy and even a successful madam like Augusta Bender can’t afford to risk her livelihood to shelter you.”

  “Madam?”

  James watched as Elizabeth’s blue-green eyes widened in dismay. “Uh-huh,” he confirmed. “Madam. And although he has a thriving upstairs business himself, Lo Peng isn’t opposed to torching the establishments of independent rivals.”

  “What about you?”

  James smiled. “I’ve been called ruthless by many people,” he told her, being deliberately obtuse. “But I can assure you that I’m not in the arson business, nor am I involved in any upstairs businesses.” He held out his hand and pulled Elizabeth to her feet, then bent and hefted her trunk on
to his shoulders. The coachman started down from his perch on the brougham to help his employer, but James forestalled him with a quick shake of his head.

  “Aren’t you afraid an association with me will endanger your family or your livelihood?”

  “No. Lo Peng and I have a deal. He won’t interfere with my business or my family as long as I see to it that you stay away from him and his businesses.” He carried Elizabeth’s trunk down the steps and loaded it onto the boot of the brougham. “And I do intend to make sure you stay away from Lo Peng, Elizabeth.”

  Determined to follow his lead and to appear as unaffected by their devastating kiss as he did, Elizabeth grabbed the handles of two of her valises and followed him down the walkway and around to the back of the carriage. “That might prove harder to do than to say.” He turned at the sound of her voice behind him and Elizabeth automatically handed James the bags when he finished stowing her trunk in the boot.

  James quirked an eyebrow at her. “I thought our agreement was off.”

  “It is,” she answered. “But since I can’t stay here tonight, I thought you might take me to the nearest hotel.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at that. “I could,” he answered, after giving the question some thought, “but I won’t.”

  “And I won’t work for a man who thinks his daughters are worthless.” Hands on her hips, Elizabeth faced him and issued her challenge. Thoughts of his daughters had reminded her of the existence of his wife, and she felt a burst of indignation that he would kiss her like that—even if merely for the benefit of Lo Peng’s men—when he was already married.

  “Then, we’re in agreement,” James told her, before settling the last of Elizabeth’s bags into place and closing the flaps of the boot. He walked around to the side of the carriage, opened the door, gently took Elizabeth by the elbow, and ushered her into the vehicle. “Because I happen to think my daughters are wonderfully lovable, highly intelligent human beings and the most precious gifts God has ever entrusted to my care.”

  “Everyone loves adorable little girls,” Elizabeth pronounced, “when they’re little. But things tend to change once they grow older, once their family decides they should follow the current vogue and have the young ladies molded into Society’s perfect ideals of face, form, and biddability.”

  James stared at Elizabeth and the flash of anger in her aquamarine-colored eyes, and couldn’t help wondering who in Elizabeth’s family had decided to mold her into Society’s model of face, form, and biddability and why they had felt it was necessary. Then he thought of his Treasures. His beautiful black-haired, black-eyed Treasures. They would never become American society’s models of face and form, and if he had anything to do with it—and he did—they would never become Chinese society’s models of biddability. Not his Treasures. They would become the best of both worlds. They would become a spectacular blend of face, form, and independent spirit just like their future governess.

  And as Elizabeth stood waiting to see how James would react to her statement, James gave her a mysterious half-smile and cryptically replied, “I don’t think you have to worry about ever molding my daughters into perfect models of American society.”

  Ten

  “GOOD EVENING, MR. Craig.”

  “Good evening, Delia,” James replied as he opened the door leading into the luxurious nursery suite in his Coryville mansion some three hours after leaving Bender’s Boardinghouse, and found the most responsible of the housemaids sitting beside the fireplace minding the Treasures.

  “Daddy!” The trio of little girls looked up from the scatter of blocks and stuffed animals littering the carpet, recognized their father, and began shouting his name at an earsplitting volume, then hurried toward the door of the nursery clamoring for his attention.

  James dropped the leather satchel he’d been carrying and bent at the waist to scoop the two oldest little girls up into his arms. “Hello, my lovelies.” He turned to Elizabeth. “This is Ruby.” He nodded toward the child cradled in his right arm. “And this is Garnet,” he said, indicating the child in his left arm. James smothered both girls with kisses, producing more squeals and high-pitched giggles, then set them on their feet. The older girls wrapped their arms around James’s legs as he lifted the youngest of the toddlers off the floor in mid-crawl. “And this is Emerald.” He planted a kiss on Emerald’s baby-soft cheek, then gave a soft laugh when Emerald reciprocated. “I meant what I said about my daughters, Miss Sadler. I named them after precious gems. And we in the household fondly refer to the girls as the Treasures.”

  “Good heavens,” Elizabeth said aloud before immediately covering her mouth with her hand. “They’re …”

  “A bit overwhelming at first,” he said. “But you’ll get used to it.”

  Again, Elizabeth struggled for words. “They’re …”

  Something in her tone of voice alerted him, and James turned his attention away from the Treasures back to the woman he’d hired to be their governess.

  Elizabeth suppressed an involuntary shiver. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t teach these children. They were too young. Too rambunctious. Too different from what she’d expected. Too Chinese. There. She took a deep breath. She’d admitted it. James Cameron Craig’s daughters were Chinese. Like Lo Peng. Like the hatchet men who guarded him. Like the minions who obeyed him, like the men who had unceremoniously dumped her brother’s body into the street. One of the youngsters—the middle one with the sparkling dark brown eyes and the burgundy hair ribbons sliding through her silky baby-fine locks—loosened her hold on her father’s trouser leg and smiled shyly. Elizabeth leaned closer. The burgundy hair ribbon had lost its anchor in the child’s soft hair and was in danger of sliding away. She reached out to catch and retie it, but caught herself before she did so. Appalled by her automatic gesture, Elizabeth clenched her fist, then lowered her hand, covering it in the folds of her skirts. The little girl took a step forward. Elizabeth blanched and immediately stepped backward. The child retreated, returning to the safety of her father’s long legs, where she hid her face against the lightweight wool of his suit.

  James pinned Elizabeth with a sharp gaze as he studied the array of contrasting emotions that flickered across her all-too-expressive face.

  She opened her mouth, stumbled over her words, then cleared her throat and started again. “I apologize, Mr. Craig. I never expected … It’s just that …”

  James let out a long frustrated sigh. “They’re Chinese. Yes, Miss Sadler, I know.” He shook his head, “Although, somehow, this time I didn’t think it would matter.” He watched Elizabeth closely, noting the way she backed away from the children, the beads of perspiration on her upper lip, and the ashen cast to her complexion.

  “I have my reasons,” she murmured, embarrassed by the look of supreme disappointment she read in James Craig’s face, embarrassed by her instinctive reaction to three innocent little girls, yet not quite able to disguise or to change it. Not yet quite able to come to terms with the fact that the man who had kissed her so passionately just hours ago had a wife. A Chinese wife.

  “Most people do.”

  She had made a promise to Owen. She’d made a promise to herself. And she had to keep it. She wouldn’t rest as long as Owen’s death went unpunished. As long as people like Lo Peng preyed on innocent young men. People like Lo Peng. Elizabeth stared down at the faces of James Craig’s daughters, at their caps of silky jet black hair, their red and burgundy and emerald green hair ribbons, at their dark, deep chocolate, almost black almond-shaped eyes, and the soft golden cast of their skin. She couldn’t be responsible for these children because one day, they would grow up to look and think and act exactly like Lo Peng. “You don’t understand.”

  “On the contrary, Miss Sadler,” James answered coolly. “I understand this rather mindless prejudice all too well.”

  Elizabeth sucked in a sharp bream at his words. She had never been accused of prejudice before, quite the opposite, in fact, and the accusation stung
. It stung all the more because Elizabeth was forced to admit his accusation was true.

  James pretended not to notice the way his words affected her. Shocked her. “Someone told me, not long ago, that everyone loves adorable little girls when they’re little.” He kissed Emerald again, this time on the forehead. “I foolishly hoped that statement was true even though I knew better. You see, Miss Sadler, everyone loves adorable little babies. Unless, of course, they happen to have a yellowish cast to their skin.” He gave a little snort of derision. “Or unless they happen to be female.” Holding Emerald in one arm, he bent and gently disengaged his other daughters’ arms from around his legs, then turned his back on Elizabeth. He ushered the two older girls into the center of the nursery, set Emerald down on the floor in the middle of the carpet among the wooden blocks and stuffed animals, then turned and escorted Elizabeth to the door. James stopped long enough to tug on the bellpull hanging near the door, then followed Elizabeth into the hallway and closed the door to the nursery behind them. “It’s late, Miss Sadler. You’ve had a difficult day and a long journey. I’ll have one of the maids show you to a guest room tonight and see that you get your fifty dollars and that you’re on the first train back to San Francisco in the morning.”

  “I can’t go back to San Francisco.”

  James shrugged his shoulders. “No, I don’t guess you can. But you have the rest of the state and the rest of the continent from which to choose a destination.”

  “I apologize,” she said. “Believe me, it isn’t your daughters. I have nothing against your daughters personally … I just …” She shrugged her shoulders and glanced down at the floor, focusing on the way the hem of her skirt skimmed over the top of her slippers, a fraction of an inch above the polished wood.

  “Dislike them as a matter of principle.”

  His crisp, deliberate tone of voice interrupted her perusal of the floor. She looked up at him and saw the flash of emotion he tried to mask. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”