His gaze lingered on the lowest of the south-end windows. Two stories up, it overlooked the lower levels of the castle. Then he shook his head. “We could probably manage to climb up to that window and then down the outside of the keep, but once we reached the lower levels of the castle we’d be easy targets. If we climbed from the back of the keep and down the cliffs…Well, I’ll try if there’s no other choice, but the odds aren’t good.”
She was so terrified she could barely breathe, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “You’re saying there’s no way out, and it’s just a matter of time until Logan or Scouse come into the keep and shoot us like rats.”
“I’d risk the cliffs first, but I think there’s a better way.” He caught her gaze with his. “Christ, I hate suggesting this!”
“Whatever the best chance is, we try it. What are you thinking?”
“You’re agile as a monkey and you can outfight any man I’ve ever seen.” He made a gesture that encompassed the keep and the north end of the castle. “The ruins run around three sides of the courtyard, and they offer concealment for someone to circle around and reach the guardhouse from the back. If I keep Logan talking and distracted, do you think you can make your way through the ruins and attack them from behind? Kung fu is no help against a rifleman at a distance, but if you can reach them without being seen, we have a chance.”
Dear gods, he trusted her enough to suggest such a thing! Calm descended, dissolving her initial panic. “I can do it.”
“God bless you, my love.” He gave her a swift, hard kiss. “Don’t be shocked at anything I say. Now go.”
Dropping her plaid so she’d be unencumbered, she ran the length of the keep as Kyle shouted, “You may have rifles, but I have a pistol. Whichever of you comes in here first is a dead man.”
“I guessed you might be armed or we’d have been in there already. But we can outwait and outshoot you, so say your prayers, Maxwell.”
“Since it’s going to be a long wait, you might as well satisfy my curiosity. What the devil have I done that made you decide to kill me?”
“You came to China.”
As the conversation echoed hollowly through the ruins, Troth surveyed the door opening two stories up the wall. The climb would be tricky, but the mortar that bound the stones had deteriorated with the years, leaving finger- and toeholds for someone who was light, agile, and desperate. Cautiously she began to climb.
After a lengthy pause, Kyle yelled, “I’ve racked my brain, but damned if I can remember anything I did that might have offended you this much. We hardly knew each other. If I’ve insulted your honor, I’d be happy to apologize, or settle the issue in a duel.”
Logan gave a bark of laughter. “Affairs of honor are for you so-called gentlemen, not the likes of me. I’m just a lowborn merchant, so I go direct to what I want rather than making a game of death.”
Troth reached the sill of the door and scrambled up into it, catching her breath as she evaluated her next step. The adjoining building was smaller and lower than the keep, and had no ground-level entrances at all. Her best bet would be to make her way over and up onto the building’s back wall. She’d be able to move along the top quickly, then have only a short climb up to the top of the wall of the slightly higher building beyond.
She took a deep breath and swung from the door so that her face was pressed against the cold, damp stone. Though her nerves screamed for her to hurry, she made sure her new holds were secure before she released the old ones. Moving across a wall like a spider couldn’t be rushed.
Again taking his time replying, Kyle called, “Resenting my birth isn’t much of a reason, especially since I’m involved in trade myself. Can you honestly say I ever showed disrespect to you or any other Canton trader?”
“Maybe not,” Logan said grudgingly. “But you won’t soil your aristocratic hands on opium. When you take your seat in the House of Lords, you’ll be in a position to damage our business, maybe destroy it altogether. A pity I didn’t manage to get you killed in the Settlement.”
Troth froze for a moment. So Logan was the Fanqui who’d hired the assassins to attack Kyle! May demons eat his liver, and soon.
“You greatly overrate my potential power in Parliament.”
“The fact that you’ve actually been to Canton and seen the trade close up will make all the difference,” Logan spat out. “Your stinkin’ fellow lords will believe your objections. Even some of the traders in Canton started saying that maybe you had a point. You’re too damned persuasive.”
Limbs shaking from effort, Troth reached the top of the back wall and hauled herself up. Then she made the mistake of looking down at the sheer drop of the crag below. If she fell…
She closed her eyes against waves of dizziness, reminding herself faintly that there was a rim of land below that she’d probably hit if she fell. Possible death rather than the sure doom of falling down the crag. Besides, there was no reason to fall; the walls of this old fortress were all several handspans wide, easy to walk along.
Most of all, she had to do this, or she and Kyle would both die here.
Head steady, she climbed to her feet and began walking along the wall as fast as she dared in the stiff wind. Storm clouds were approaching rapidly and rain would make the stones far more treacherous.
“I have a deal for you, Maxwell,” Logan shouted. “I’d rather your body was found without bullet holes in it. If you throw down your pistol and come out, you can die in a nice quick fall off the cliff rather than gut-shot and howling with agony.”
Kyle laughed as if they were discussing a minor wager rather than murder. “Either way I’m dead. What’s the advantage of surrendering to you tamely?”
Troth reached the end of the second building. The roofless shell ahead of her was higher but not by much. Wind tearing at her garments, she clawed her way to the top of the third building and paused for another survey.
She’d reached the northwest corner and had a clear view of most of the courtyard. The building where she perched was right next to the guardhouse, with both buildings built out from the battlements. By looking down and to her right, she had a clear view of Logan and Scouse, who were lounging in the entrance to the guardhouse with their rifles.
Almost directly opposite them was the door to the keep, with Kyle concealed just to the left. Since he had only a pistol, there was no need for Logan and Scouse to hide. Even if their quarry charged out of the keep, his hand weapon wouldn’t be effective across the width of the courtyard.
She recognized Scouse from Canton. Burly and bullet headed, he was well known in the gin shops and brothels of the Settlement. He’d started as a common sailor before the mast and worked his way up to captain by brute strength and cunning. Even though she had wing chun, he would be a very dangerous opponent.
“The advantage of cooperation is that I swear on my mother’s grave that I’ll see your body is discovered so your family will know you’re dead,” Logan replied. “Otherwise you’ll simply disappear, and they’ll never know what happened.”
Troth sucked in her breath, knowing how much such a threat would affect Kyle. Too angry to delay his reply, Kyle shouted, “You bastard!”
Logan heard the anger also, and roared with laughter. “Now, now, you insult my mother, who was as sour and upright a woman as ever lived.” His amusement vanished. “The longer you make me wait, the more likely I am to decide to hide your body in the hills where no one but the crows will ever find it. You’re going to die, Maxwell, but if you surrender soon enough, at least you’ll have some say about how it happens.”
She started along the top of the last wall. Once she reached the end, she’d be able to climb down to the wall-walk that ran inside the battlements, and from there she could enter the guardhouse and attack. But for now, she must tread warily. If Logan or Scouse turned they’d immediately see her silhouetted against the sky. Her skin crawled at the knowledge of what an easy target she’d make.
She was midwall wh
en the storm hit in a blast of rain that almost knocked her from her precarious ridge of stone. She crouched immediately to regain her balance and was soaked to the skin in seconds. Chilled to the bone, she began creeping forward again.
Logan and Scouse cursed at the onslaught of rain. On instinct she flattened herself along the wall on her belly just before they turned to glare up at the clouds. The storm darkened the sky enough that they didn’t notice her clinging, terrified, to the wall. In her soaked garments, she must blend in with the irregular stones.
As she lay there, heart pounding, Scouse said something to Logan, making a sweeping gesture toward the battlements and the south wall of the courtyard. They exchanged several sentences, and she got the impression they were arguing. Then Logan shrugged, conceding the point. Scouse crossed to the rear of the guardhouse and began to climb the steep stone staircase that led to the wall-walk.
Horrified, she realized that the sea captain must have told Logan that they could end this quickly if he followed the wall-walk to the south wall, which separated the courtyard from the lower castle. Crossing the south wall would bring him to the lowest window at the south end of the keep—and from there he’d be able to murder Kyle with a single shot. Easier to dispose of bodies for crows to eat than to stay out in the rain.
Knowing Kyle would have no chance if Scouse reached the keep window, Troth scrambled to her feet and raced recklessly toward the sea captain, praying that she could get down to the wall-walk and catch up with him before it was too late. The swift squall abated to a spattering of drops, which helped a little with the footing, but she guessed this was only a lull, with more rain coming.
Kyle yelled, “Maybe I’ll cooperate in my own murder, but with one condition.”
“Aye?”
“Spare Troth Montgomery’s life. She’s no part of this.”
Another chilling laugh from Logan. “Ah, but she is. She’ll be royally pissed to know I got her sent to Canton after her father’s death rather than back to Scotland.”
After a startled moment, Kyle said, “So you were behind that. Did you have something to do with Hugh Montgomery’s death?”
“I didn’t cause the typhoon that sank his ship, but when his comprador told me the girl had a bit of fever, the letter I sent to Hugh in Singapore implied that his precious daughter might be deathly ill.” Logan laughed. “That maybe brought him back to Macao faster than was wise during the storm season.”
The shock was so intense that Troth skidded on the wet stones and started to fall. She managed to twist and come down belly-first onto the stone, knocking the breath from her body. She clung there, stunned at the knowledge that Logan had orchestrated her father’s death. There had been no risk to Logan. If her father had reached Macao safely, his partner could have said innocently that he’d misunderstood the severity of Troth’s illness, but God be praised, the lassie was all right now. He was a devil!
“Why did you do that?” Kyle called, his voice shaken.
“Hugh was pleasant enough, but a fool. Like you, he didn’t believe in opium trading. With him dead, I took the money and bought five hundred chests of the best Indian opium. That day was the beginning of my fortune.”
So that was why her father had apparently died penniless. Logan must have also spread the rumors that had tarnished her father’s name, since discrediting Hugh Montgomery had made his swinish partner look better.
Cold with rage, Troth rose and closed the dozen feet to the end of the building, then swung around and started to feel her way down toward the wall-walk. It was several feet wide, so when she finally reached it she’d be able to catch up with Scouse in seconds.
“You’re a clever man, Logan,” Kyle said, a good imitation of reluctant admiration in his voice. “You also know China. Montgomery’s daughter is more Chinese than European now. If you spare her, she’ll go with you willingly to Macao.”
“She wants to return to the East?”
“Can’t wait to leave—she’s badly disappointed in Scotland and has made me promise to send her back. Britain is too damned cold, and she’s angry because her father apparently claimed his family was wealthy. You saw them—they’re only a couple of steps up from crofters, and she wants better than that. If you take her as a concubine, I guarantee you’ll not regret it. She was one of Chenqua’s women, and she’s the best in bed I’ve ever known—and believe me, I’ve had more than my share of women. It would be a pity to waste such talent by killing her.”
As Troth blinked at Kyle’s lies, she saw Logan stiffen with interest, but his reply was wary. “How can I be sure she won’t slit my throat for revenge?”
“Logan, she’s Chinese,” Kyle said with elaborate patience. “She’s been trained to submit completely to her master. Once you kill me, it will be obvious to her that you’re a superior master. She’ll do anything you want in return for some jewelry now and then and maybe a slave girl to beat. Understand what I mean when I say she’ll do anything?”
From Logan’s posture, Troth guessed that Kyle’s suggestive tone had released a flood of fevered imaginings. “So she was one of Chenqua’s whores,” the trader said hoarsely. “No wonder he was so quick to take her back to Canton even though she was just a child. Disgusting lecher.”
A good thing Kyle had warned her not to be surprised at anything he said! She jumped the last several feet onto the wall-walk and raced after Scouse at full speed. Since he was taking his time, she should catch up with him just before he reached the intersection with the south wall.
“He might have been a lecher, but he trained her very well. If you ever tire of the girl, you’ll get a good price selling her to another Fan-qui.”
“Very well, I’ll take her. If she’s as good as you say, I’ll make her my tai-tai in Macao.” Logan’s voice roughened. “You’ve got your bargain, so come on out. Keep me out here any longer in this weather and I may change my mind.”
Troth was almost within touching distance of Scouse’s broad back when the sea captain pivoted, alerted by the sound of her footfalls. He had his gun in his hands, but for a critical instant, he simply stared, apparently unable to believe she was a threat.
She knocked the rifle from his hands with a vicious kick. It clattered onto stone before spinning outward over the abyss. As he shouted, she punched his throat but did little damage—his neck was a rock-hard column of beefy muscle.
“You little Chink bitch!” Murder in his eyes, he stalked forward.
As she waited for his attack, she prayed to all the gods of East and West for the strength to win the most difficult fight of her life.
Chapter 44
Hearing shouts, Kyle dropped to his knees and peered out the door, hoping that keeping his head low would spare his brains from being blown out if Logan and Scouse had their rifles trained on the door.
The first thing he saw was the barrel of Logan’s gun. His second sight was Troth in a life-or-death struggle with Scouse up on the wall-walk. Kyle’s heart seemed to stop. She looked like a child next to the raging sea captain. Though she was evading his blows deftly, Scouse would break her in half if he managed to connect.
As she danced backward, Scouse dived forward with a bellow, counting on his weight to pin her helplessly beneath him. She leaped up into a crenellation and kicked him, using his momentum to smash him down on the narrow stone walkway.
But the sea captain had learned to brawl in the world’s most dangerous ports, and he knew his share of dirty tricks. He lunged for her ankle and yanked her from her feet. Kyle could hear the impact when she slammed onto the wall-walk, critically close to falling a dozen feet into the courtyard.
Troth flipped backward out of his grip, then scrambled to her feet as Scouse did the same. Belatedly hearing the commotion, Logan whirled to investigate what was happening above him. His rifle turned with him, and he immediately aimed it at Troth. Understanding the danger, she closed with Scouse so Logan would have to hold his shots, or risk hurting his captain.
But Loga
n fired anyhow. As Kyle started to sprint across the courtyard, Scouse jerked from the impact of a bullet. A second bullet slammed into his body. Troth flattened herself on the stone walkway as Scouse pitched backward over the wall, his long, drawn-out scream ending with sickening abruptness.
But the battlement gave Troth no protection from Logan. As he trained his rifle on her, she dived from the walkway into the courtyard, dropping into the narrow area between the guardhouse and the south wall.
Instantly, Logan was rushing to block her exit from the trap she’d landed in. It took him only a few strides to have her in his sights again.
Troth rushed forward in a doomed attempt to reach Logan before he could fire. Kyle shouted desperately, “Logan, you’re a dead man!”
As he’d hoped, Logan spun about to face the new threat. The barrel of his rifle looked enormous as he raised the gun and pulled the trigger. Kyle dived to one side, firing his pistol when he was in midair.
Troth screamed as three gunshots echoed deafeningly around the courtyard. Logan spun about, blood blooming scarlet on his white shirt. Slowly, joint by joint, he collapsed, the rifle tumbling from his grip.
Troth threw the rifle to one side in case Logan still lived, then dropped beside Kyle as another blast of rain struck. “You can’t die, my lord, you can’t.”
As she tried to roll him over to see where he was wounded, he dropped the pistol and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t intend to,” he panted. “Dear God, Troth, are you all right? I thought my heart would stop on the spot when he began shooting at you.”
They lay locked together, oblivious to the pounding rain. “He missed,” she said unsteadily. “But how could he? He shot three times at point-blank range.”
“Twice. I dived to avoid his bullets and fired my pistol at the same time.” Kyle sat up, still holding her with bruising force.
The steely determination that had kept her going through the last hellish half hour collapsed. Troth began to shake violently, her tears mingling with the rain.