Fortune Is a Woman - Elizabeth Adler [128]
The sea rippled past like a stream and the wind sang in the rigging, billowing their sails as they watched the sky change to midnight, then to ink. The stars were as bright as their lanterns and he smiled happily at her.
Then half a dozen chattering Chinese appeared bearing steaming platters and they ate their feast, laughing as their ship skimmed over the glossy dark sea.
“Maybe we’re destined to spend all our lives on boats,” Francie said dreamily, leaning back against the huge soft cushions and gazing upward at the stars. “Liners and freighters and junks … permanent travelers of the world.”
“Is that what you would like?” he asked, leaning toward her.
She shook her head. His face was so close to hers she could see the little dark flecks in the blue of his eyes. Discreetly, the Chinese removed the dishes from the low table and closed the curtains, leaving them alone in their cushioned lamplit world.
And then Edward’s lips were on hers and she wanted him in a way she had never wanted Josh. She wasn’t seeking solace or comfort in Edward Stratton’s arms, she wanted him the way a woman did.
She pushed him away and sat up, tossing back her loosened hair and quickly twisting it into a knot. With her hair tied firmly back she felt more in control of herself.
Edward was a man of tradition. He knelt in front of her and took her hand in his and said, “Will you please marry me, Francesca?”
She gasped. She was flustered, flattered, tempted. “But I can’t,” she said. “We’ve known each other such a short while…. You know so little about me.”
“That’s easily remedied. Come home to Scotland with me, stay at Strattons, meet my children. Bring your son and then we’ll all get to know each other. Just say yes, Francie. I’ve never felt like this before about any woman, not even Mary. She was my childhood friend, I knew her all my life; but you are different.” He kissed the hand he was holding. “I feel passionately about you, Francesca. Please say you’ll marry me.”
She was so tempted she could hardly think straight. “I can’t say yes,” she said weakly. “But maybe one day I’ll visit you at Strattons.”
He sighed. At least he had achieved half his goal. “I warn you, I’ll ask you again,” he said, “over and over until you say yes.”
CHAPTER 28
Lai Tsin had returned many times to Nanking in the past few years and every time he had retraced the fateful steps from the waterfront through the alleys of the city, searching for the square where the flesh-peddler sold his wares, but he had never again been able to find it.
He told himself it was a futile quest, that he would never find the man and that he was lucky because it meant that his soul would not be stained with his murder. Because if he ever found him he would surely kill him.
But in all this time and through all his travels in China, seeking the best sources and suppliers for his business, he had never returned to his home village on the banks of the Ta Chiang. Now he knew he could put it off no longer. He must return and exorcise his demons or forever live with a troubled mind.
The long trip upriver on the small shabby steamer was filled with memories and he stood by the rail watching the passing landscape, reliving that other terrible journey. At Wuhu, the stopping point for the steamer, he disembarked and hired a small shabby junk to take him farther upriver to his village. As they approached, he went to the small cabin and dressed himself in the long