Page 21 of The Magic of You


  It was hard to tell, but it looked like the Chinaman’s eyes were about as wide as they could get. “You big-time big, Captain. You no try escape, okay? Taishi no likee tangle with you.”

  “Afraid, little man?” Warren asked doubtfully, well aware of how deadly the seemingly harmless could be—if it hailed from China. “Let’s see if that’s so.”

  Warren reached out and yanked Taishi forward by the front of his tunic, then up into the air with one arm. In a trice his thumb was bent back so far, the attack brought him to his knees, and Taishi back to his feet.

  “As I thought,” Warren gritted out. “Your capability as a well-chosen keeper has been amply demonstrated, so you can let go now.”

  Warren got his thumb back, but Taishi moved quickly out of his way, still wary of him. That was a joke, but to his advantage, Warren supposed. The little man probably wasn’t used to anyone a good foot taller than he. Taishi had been trained by men his own size, and someone with Warren’s height and a body that was in no way skinny was going to make him leery, no matter how capable he knew himself to be.

  But Warren certainly didn’t let this go to his head. He already knew firsthand that men shorter than he could make mincemeat out of him. James Malory had proved that without half trying.

  Thinking of James gave Warren an idea he couldn’t resist. “I’ll make a deal with you, Taishi,” he said as he rose to his feet and shook his still smarting hand. “I won’t give you any trouble at all, and in return, you teach me your fighting skills.”

  “So you can use against Taishi? You as funny as the English lady, Captain.”

  The mention of Amy made Warren almost desperate to get the man’s agreement. The lessons would keep him busy enough, and bruised enough, to remove that minx from his thoughts at least for a while, and give him an advantage over James that the Englishman wouldn’t be expecting when next they met. That was assuming, of course, that Warren could extricate himself from this mess in one piece.

  “I don’t delude myself into thinking you’d teach me all you know, so what have you got to worry about?” Warren asked. “But as it happens, I wouldn’t attack my teacher, and you’d have my word on it.”

  “Then why you want to learn?”

  “What you have is a skill I’d like to use against a ’round eyes’ when this is over. Think about it, Taishi, and consider this while you’re at it. You keep me happy and Lord Zhang is pleased with you. Otherwise, I may try to kick down these walls and wring your neck with that pigtail at least once a day, and the day could come when I get lucky.”

  At that Taishi snorted, but there wasn’t much contempt in it. And he didn’t come any farther into the cabin to put the food down on the crate of candles that served as Warren’s only table. He set the bowl on the floor next to the door, and moved to leave.

  Warren wasn’t done with him yet. “Ask permission if you like. I guarantee your lord will be delighted by the thought of me getting my ass whipped on a daily basis. He’ll probably want to watch.”

  He’d pricked Taishi’s interest with that possibility. “To entertain Lord Yat-sen would be a fine thing.”

  Warren would prefer the bastard didn’t watch, but he’d take what he could get. “Sleep on it and let me know in the morning what you decide. But in either case, I have a deal with your lord that doesn’t include incarceration for the duration of this voyage. You might remind him of that. I’m available to work if nothing—”

  Pounding came on the bulkhead to interrupt him, and the furious shout: “Who’s in there? Is that you, Taishi? If that’s you, you’d better get your runty little self over here before I burn this ship down!”

  They both stared at the bulkhead for a moment before Taishi asked in a horrified whisper, “Would she really?”

  “Of course not,” Warren scoffed, but he spoke in a much lower tone than he’d been using. “However, she’s been making quite a racket over there. Haven’t you gone yet to see what she wants?”

  “Orders not to visit, only to feed, but know what lady wants. Tomorrow soon enough to let her try to crack my head again.”

  Warren took a dangerous step forward. “You didn’t hurt her, did you, when you saved your head?”

  Taishi leapt back this time, landing outside the door. “No hurt your lady,” Taishi quickly assured him. “Little bruise maybe, here.” He pointed to his bottom. “But she no complain of that. Complain of everything else, but not that.”

  Warren realized his mistake too late, but still tried to correct it. “She’s not my lady.”

  “If you say so, Captain.”

  “Don’t humor me, man,” Warren snapped impatiently. “She’s really not. And for God’s sake, if she asks, do not tell her I’m right next door to her. She’ll damn well drive me crazy with her incessant chatter, and I’ll damn well take it out on you if she does.”

  Warren wasn’t sure if he’d convinced the Chinaman, but at least Taishi looked a bit confused before he closed and locked the door. Warren was furious with himself, however, for making that slip, and doing it without even realizing what he was doing. How stupid could he get? The last thing he needed was for his keeper to be able to assure Zhang that he was most definitely concerned over Amy’s welfare. Warren just wished to hell it weren’t true.

  Chapter 32

  Amy moved away from the bulkhead to find her pallet and curl up in a dejected ball. Her ear hurt from pressing against the rough wood, but she ached worse in the region of her heart.

  So Warren didn’t want to talk to her. He’d never wanted to talk to her, so it shouldn’t hurt to hear him say it. But it did.

  She actually felt like crying. She wouldn’t, of course. She’d known from the beginning that it wasn’t going to be easy to win Warren, that she had a lot of bitterness and distrust to overcome. And he was a man set in his ways, ways that kept women at an unbreachable distance. He didn’t want to be happy. He liked being miserable. So much to overcome…

  The next morning brought a return of Amy’s confidence, at least where Warren was concerned. She still believed, wholeheartedly, that making love to him was the answer, the miracle that was going to change their relationship, or rather, get one started.

  As for last night and her doubts, it was this situation that was getting her down, and the uncertainty of it. She didn’t doubt for a minute that Warren wouldn’t be here if he’d had a choice. Her uncle James had probably figured out what was happening and insisted Warren rescue her. This didn’t exactly seem like rescuing yet, but she was optimistic enough to assume Warren knew what he was doing.

  Still, a few reassurances wouldn’t hurt, would definitely be nice. Only Warren wasn’t willing to talk to her long enough, even through the wall, to supply them. Dratted man could at least make an exception to his standoffishness this once, but no, heaven forbid he should show the slightest compassion or concern. Why, she might think he actually cared if he did, and he wouldn’t like that a’tall.

  The movement of the ship told her they were out to sea. The light under the door told her it was indeed the next day. The silence from the next cabin told her nothing. And she was working herself into another fine rage that would have her pounding on Warren’s side of the bulkhead again if she wasn’t careful. She didn’t want to do that. If he wanted silence, he’d get silence, and she hoped that would drive him crazy.

  But Taishi got a full dose of her irritation when he showed up with more rice and vegetables for her breakfast. She took one look at the food and said, “Again? I do believe it’s time to chop off your cook’s hand. He must be the most unimaginative man in existence.”

  “Very filling, this,” Taishi assured her. “Put meat on bones, big-time.”

  “Just what I always wanted,” she returned dryly. “And hold it right there,” she added when he started backing out the door. “Before you disappear again, tell me how Lord Zhang managed to capture him.”

  “Who?”

  “Let’s not play dense. The man next door? The one you
’re also feeding? The one who asked you not to tell me where he is? That one?”

  Taishi grinned at her. “You say so much, to say so little. Is that English trait, missee, or shared by American captains, too?”

  “How about answering my question first?”

  He shrugged. “No one tell Taishi about captain. Just told to feed and takee care. You have to ask him, missee.”

  “By all means, bring him over.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “You funny lady. You heard he no likee talk to you. Orders to keep him happy, and seeing you no makee happy, Taishi thinking.”

  “So his happiness takes precedence over mine, does it?” Her irritation was definitely mounting. “I suppose because he’s the only one who knows where that bloody vase is. You have heard about the vase?”

  “Everyone know about vase, missee. Belong to Emperor, not Lord Yat-sen. Lord Yat-sen in big-time trouble if he no get it back.”

  Amy wondered if Warren knew that, but she couldn’t very well ask him when he refused to talk to her. “I don’t suppose it’s occurred to anyone that Warren is a very uncooperative man, and he’s only being cooperative now because of me. So what happens if I’m not here? Just how cooperative do you think he’ll be then?”

  “Where you go, missee?”

  “I’ll think of something,” she said impatiently, then, realizing he wasn’t the least bit impressed with her capabilities, added, “Never mind that just now. But as to seeing me, you ought to know the captain is just being stubborn about it. We had a lover’s spat, is all,” she lied baldly, since nothing else was working. “I’m sure you know how it is. He doesn’t think I’ll forgive him, which is why he doesn’t want to talk to me or see me now, but I have already forgiven him. I just need a chance to convince him of that, but how can I if you people won’t let me see him?”

  He was shaking his head at her again, telling her he didn’t believe her. Well, it had been a good try, and maybe if she stuck to that story, she’d eventually convince him. In the meantime, she was too frustrated about getting nowhere to continue being pleasant to the little man.

  “Since you are so very accommodating, Taishi,” she said with dripping sarcasm, “I also need a change of clothes, and a hairbrush wouldn’t be amiss. And for God’s sake, some water for washing. If you’re supposed to be taking care of us, you’ll have to start doing a better job. I’m a hostage, not a prisoner, and for that matter, I demand some fresh air occasionally. You will see to it, won’t you?”

  “What will be allowed, missee, you can have.”

  She heard a little wounded dignity there. So now she had guilt to add to the other unpleasant emotions she had to cope with. But she didn’t apologize. She was the injured party here, the one being held against her will, taken from her home to God knew where. Where would that vase be hidden, anyway? America? Well, she’d said she’d go there if it became necessary in her campaign to win Warren, but she really hadn’t planned on it.

  The day wore on with increasing frustration that took a swing back toward dejection by evening. Amy found herself pressing her ear to the bulkhead again, but she couldn’t hear anything, possibly because Warren also had his ear pressed to it this time and their breathing just didn’t penetrate. She finally gave up with a softly uttered “Warren.”

  He heard. His forehead dropped against the bulkhead. He gritted his teeth. He couldn’t answer. It would be starting something he couldn’t stop. She would expect to talk to him daily. Before long, she’d be back to making her sexual innuendos or worse, with a wall between them to hide her shame, and it would drive him out of his mind.

  But that plaintive note in her voice was killing him. “Amy,” he finally answered.

  She’d already moved away from the bulkhead, so she didn’t hear him.

  Chapter 33

  Two long, exasperating weeks passed for Amy, during which Warren still wouldn’t communicate with her through the bulkhead that separated their cabins, nor would he agree to see her, even for a few minutes. She’d been given a change of clothes to alternate with her dress, a black wraparound tunic and trousers exactly like Taishi’s that fit her too well, delineating nearly every curve in her body. But only Taishi saw her in them, and he wasn’t interested in her that way, so it didn’t matter. She’d got a comb, too, though she’d stopped trying to arrange her hair without a mirror, leaving it loose for the most part, and braided otherwise.

  Last week she’d been given two extra buckets of water to wash herself and her clothes in. She was due for another bath today. And she got let out on the deck once every other day for no more than an hour. For that she wore her aqua-hued gown, with her spencer fastened up to the neck. But no one paid her much attention. Half the crew was Chinese, and she’d found that they considered her ugly with her round eyes, though they did admire her thick length of black hair. The other half of the crew was Portuguese, as was the captain, as was the ship, and they spoke not a word of English.

  She’d seen Warren’s ship, the Nereus, the last time he was in London, the day he’d departed all those months ago. This one wasn’t nearly so grand, but she enjoyed her brief outings, looked forward to them, not for the fresh air, but for the hope each time that she’d see Warren somewhere on the deck. She never did, of course. He would have arranged with his good friend Taishi to be told exactly when she was allowed outside, so he could make sure he stayed in his cabin each of those times.

  Actually, she got everything she’d asked for, except the one thing she wanted most, and it looked like she wasn’t going to get that, no matter what. Warren obviously intended to avoid her all the way to America, hand over that vase to gain their release, then stick her on the first ship back to England, alone. It was a safe plan for him, a plan that would keep him and his miserable life just as they were, and Amy still couldn’t think of any way to change that plan, except outright sexy talk that might get him to tear the partition down. But she wasn’t experienced enough to pull that off, and didn’t feel like making a fool of herself trying, especially through a bloody wall.

  As for that wall, her ear was going to be permanently flattened, she listened at it so often. Warren was learning to fight in that funny way Taishi did. He was taking a lot of punishment in the process, but she had a feeling he was enjoying every moment of it, while she gasped and gritted her teeth over each one of his groans.

  Today she got her out-of-cabin outing, as well as a bath. She should have been pleased, or at least somewhat content, under the circumstances. But just as she’d witnessed the storm clouds brewing on the horizon, she had a storm brewing inside her, one that wouldn’t be calmed this time.

  She’d been a model hostage lately, giving Taishi no reason for complaint. But it was not in her nature to simply endure and do nothing. Only there was nothing she could do, her options were all played out, and that realization, nagging her more than once today, sparked the Malory temper.

  She was angry at Taishi for not taking her seriously, at Warren for his stubbornness and continued silence, at Zhang for dragging her into this mess when he could just as easily have left her behind once he had Warren. And she was through being quiet about it, through merely accepting Warren’s silence and Zhang’s arbitrary control over her.

  Taishi found that out when he brought her meal that evening. The moment he opened the door, she snatched the bowl of food from him, scooped up a glob of the rice with two fingers, and held it before her mouth.

  “I’m not starving, you dolt,” she said in response to his wide-eyed expression. “But I’ve found my weapon.”

  “You going to throw food at me?”

  She almost did for that brilliant deduction. Taishi had a very keen sense of humor that wasn’t always clear; more often than not, it could be interpreted as plain stupidity. Amy was beginning to suspect he pretended ignorance just to get a rise out of her, which usually was the case, and today was no exception.

  “I’m tempted, no doubt about it,” she said, keeping her
voice down with an effort. She did not want Warren to hear what she was up to, not that he’d be listening at the wall, but she wasn’t taking any chances. “But since this might be my last meal, I’ll pass this time.”

  That got him frowning. “Taishi no would starve you, missee.”

  “You will if Zhang orders it, won’t you? And don’t bother to deny it. He probably will order it as soon as he hears what I can do with a little food.”

  “You no makee sense.”

  “I’m about to, so pay attention. You’re going to tell your lord that if I am not allowed to see Captain Anderson immediately, I will choke on my food and die. Then what incentive will he use against Warren to get his bloody vase back?”

  Taishi raised a beseeching hand. “Wait, missee! Taishi find out. Be back lickety-split.”

  Amy stared at the closed door in amazement. Had it actually worked? The little fellow took her seriously for once? But she hadn’t counted on that. And if Zhang took her seriously, too, and gave her what she wanted…She wasn’t prepared! She hadn’t combed her hair, she wasn’t wearing her seductive gown, and, dammit, she was hungry.

  Amy wolfed down half the food and then dashed for her comb. It was a good thing she rushed, because Taishi didn’t take his little dilemma to Zhang, who was having his own dinner and was never, ever disturbed when he was eating.

  Taishi went no farther than next door to ask Warren, “Is it possible to choke on food by accident?”

  Warren was sitting against the bulkhead, finishing his own meal. “You mean deliberately?”

  “Yes.”

  “I suppose it’s possible if you try to breathe your food in, but I don’t mean to try it, if that’s what has brought you back,”

  Taishi didn’t answer, just closed the door again. His orders were to keep both prisoners happy for the duration of the trip, to do whatever was possible to assure that. Moving the woman from one cabin to the next was certainly possible. And it was Taishi’s opinion that the American might object at first, but not for long. If he was wrong, he’d have to suffer one furious American on his hands for awhile.