Chapter Fifteen
If there were an award for the biggest idiot, then he would win it hands down. Max couldn’t believe how stupid he was being, and yet, he was doing it anyway.
“Max, are you sure?” Emmaline pressed. “Perhaps—”
“Don’t be silly. The bath is prepared.” They always used bathwater for three people at least. It was too cumbersome to heat and carry that much for separate baths. “I’ll just tell Moore to bring up more hot water.” He turned to Yihui and mimed cleaning one’s body. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Max—” his sister chided.
“I’ll wear a blindfold. Everything will be very proper.”
It was not proper. And no blindfold would prevent what he’d feel when he picked up her naked body wrapped badly in robe of some kind.
He wouldn’t look while he carried her to his bedroom, but he would feel every inch of her body when he set her in a tub filled with steaming water.
Then he’d wait nearby listening to the sounds of her toilette.
He would hear the water splash, imagine the soap bubbles as they slicked down her skin, and dream what she looked like as every inch of her was cleansed and oiled.
Would her black hair spill about her like ink?
Was her skin truly as flawless as it seemed?
Were her breasts as high and tight as he imagined?
These questions would torture him as he created answers in his imagination.
And then he would be called back when she was done.
He would crouch down beside the cool water, he would slip his hands under her thighs and back, and he’d lift her up.
He would feel the heat of her body and listen to the cascade of the water.
And his cock would throb, just like it was now.
He ducked out of the bedroom and headed to his own.
Giving instructions to his valet took thirty seconds, then he had to sit and wait the next fourteen minutes.
Fortunately, he wasn’t able to linger in his fantasies as his sister stomped right up to him.
She had her hands on her hips and her expression fixed in disapproval.
He took one look at her and spoke up before she could draw breath.
“You used to smile more. I distinctly remember you laughing when you were younger. And I cannot think of one time when you scowled at me.”
“I worshipped you. Now I’m an adult and see the truth clearly.”
He cocked his brow, bracing himself for yet one more family member who thought she could tell him what to do. “And what is that truth?”
“You need something more to do than carry injured women to their baths.”
“Do you think there is an occupation for that? Just lifting and carrying women? Upstairs and downstairs in their nightgowns.” He mimicked an old nursery rhyme.
“I’m serious, Max. Things between you and Father have never been worse. Mama won’t come out of her room until that woman is gone. And all you’ve done for the last three days is—”
“Try to find a solution,” he interrupted. And when she arched a brow at him, he decided to enlighten her. “I’ve been learning everything I can about England’s relationship with China.”
“You already know everything.”
He snorted. “I have been a hobbyist, asking questions of my friends. In the last three days, I’ve been to the offices of East India Company and knocked on the door of anyone who might know something helpful.”
“And?” she prompted when he fell silent.
“And they find my situation highly amusing.”
Her lips twitched but she didn’t smile. That was unfortunate because his sister had a really beautiful smile, and he wondered why it had been so absent of late.
“That’s all?” she pressed.
“They agree that the mandarin wasn’t a representative from the Chinese government. There’s little worry there will be repercussions from his death. At least no official repercussions.”
“That’s good news.”
“Yes.” No international incident, thank God. England had enough on its hands fighting Napoleon.
“Did you learn anything else?”
He shrugged. “General stuff, much of which I already knew. The East India Company has verified that there’s a hubbub about the cohongs and the Hoppo.”
“The what?”
He waved his hand. “It doesn’t matter. The entire thing could already be resolved. They’re on the opposite side of the world. Letters go very slowly between there and here.”
“Then why would they send her like that? Why bother at all?”
That was a question Max had been asking for days now. “She’s not really the Wong’s daughter. She’s some girl sold by her father to cover his gambling debts.”
“That’s awful!” she exclaimed. But true to her quick intellect, she understood the implications. “But that also means you don’t have to marry her. After all, she’s not who she claims to be—”
“She didn’t claim anything.”
Emmaline waved her hand. “Yes, but you know what I mean. You don’t have to marry her. The bribe was a false one.”
“Yes, I will make that case to Prinny. Given what happened, he’ll let the thing drop.”
She nodded slowly. “But that doesn’t really answer the question, does it?”
“What question?”
“What are you to do with her? She’s terrified you’re going to toss her out of the house before she can even stand.”
“I’m not going to do that,” he growled.
“I know you’re not, but…” She lifted her hands. “Maybe you should. Not throw her into the streets, obviously, but there must be work she can do. In Devonshire, perhaps? At a minimum, she could convalesce there without…um…you know, all the bother here.”
He knew what his sister meant, and to her credit, she flushed at his hard stare. Send the woman away and go on with their normal lives. Which would be well and good for them, but what kind of life would she have? “Do you mean for her to be one of our pensioners for the rest of her life?”
She shrugged. “Better than your wife.”
“Not for her,” he snapped, unaccountably irritated.
It wasn’t as though he wanted to marry her.
Bed her, yes. Marry her? Perhaps in his fantasies, but it would never work in reality.
She’d never be accepted by society, and that was a miserable way for any person to live.
In any event, he disliked how everyone—including her own father—disposed of her as if she were of no account.
“She’s a person, not an old pair of shoes. ”
“We’re all people, Max. The world is full of them in all sorts of wretched situations.
” She shook her head. “You’ve always had a soft spot for strays.
You dance with wallflowers, employ handicapped veterans, and do you remember that stinky ferret when we were children?
No one adopts a ferret with a broken back, except you! ”
“It didn’t live long.”
“But you still tried, and you cried when it passed. But you cannot take care of everyone.” She set her hand on his arm. “Can you not see it? She is one more sad soul who wants to live off our fortune. She is beautiful and in trouble, and so you wish to save her. But you cannot marry her.”
“Now you sound like Father. He’d shortchange his tailor if I didn’t make sure he paid his shot.”
“I’m not saying discard her. Just set her aside quietly.
Pay someone to care for her—make it months if that will ease your conscience—then let her find her own place and purpose.
” Her gaze skipped for a moment down the hallway to the once-yellow bedroom.
“This whole thing is wretched. I can’t manage it much longer. ”
He winced. While he’d been out knocking on diplomatic doors, she’d been here, trapped in the sickroom because the staff was too frightened to do it themselves.
But that was the way of things, wasn’t it?
Men handled the world’s affairs while the women managed the household.
Except in this case, the world had intruded on the house, and Emma had shouldered the brunt of it.
“I’ll speak with Prinny tomorrow. Mayhap I can convince him that the Crown should shoulder her expense.”
Emma’s brows rose. “Is that likely?”
No. But that was something he’d face tomorrow. In the meantime, it was time to help Yihui with her bath. So with an apology to his sister, he pulled off his jacket, grabbed yesterday’s cravat, and sauntered down the hallway to Yihui’s bedroom.
“I’m tying a cravat over my eyes. I shan’t see a thing,” he said.
He did exactly as he promised, wrapping the silk fabric around his head tightly. It reminded him of childhood games, and yet his blood was already thrumming at the idea of being able to touch Yihui. Was it exoticism or true attraction? He didn’t know and didn’t care. She would be in his arms soon.
“All done,” he declared.
His sister’s voice drawled in his ears. “You are not fooling anyone. You just want to handle her.”
“I’m trying to help,” he said in a harsh undertone. “Did you want someone else to carry her? A ham-handed footman or three?”
“Maybe,” she retorted. “At least they wouldn’t give her ideas above her station.”
“But that’s the problem, isn’t it? We don’t know what her station is, do we? I’m still under—”
“Royal command. Yes, I know.” He heard her open the bedroom door. “Come on, Max. I’ll guide you.”
He grinned. That was his sister’s way of giving in. “Yihui? Are you ready?”
“I am,” she said. The voice was directly before him, the words so sweetly spoken that his entire body tightened at the sound.
He stepped toward her, his hands already outstretched.
Emmaline spoke from his right. “She’s sitting on the bed. Careful of her feet.”
“You’ll need to guide me.”
“I am here,” Yihui said, and he felt her small hand grip his wrist, gently urging him closer.
He found her.
She wore a silk robe, thin enough that he could feel the shift of her bones, the expansion and contraction of her ribs, and the solid control of her muscles.
She moved her hand up his arm, gripping him as he knelt before her.
His right arm settled behind her back. She was forced to let go of his arm then and instead, pull herself up to wrap an arm around his shoulders.
She was so slight that he could support her easily. Even better, she had strength in her arm as she lifted herself against him, and he felt the ripple of her back muscles. More delightful was the press of her breasts against him.
The best came to his left hand as he found her hip, then slid down her thigh to the bend in her knee.
She was so compact compared to him. He often felt like his arms and legs were awkward things too long to manage smoothly.
She, however, was a shifting bundle of energy.
It was only her feet that kept her from running circles around everyone.
He slid his hand under her knees and straightened up. As she settled, he was able to wrap his right hand along her thigh while erotic images flooded his mind.
“This way,” his sister said, her voice an irritating distraction.
“You’ll have to guide me better than that,” he said as he twisted his body to lead with Yihui’s feet. He didn’t want to accidentally bang them on the doorframe.
“Take three steps forward,” Emmaline directed, though he probably could have managed it on his own. But it allowed him to focus on Yihui and how she felt against him as he walked down the hall.
Once in his room, he moved even faster. He knew the proportions of his bedroom and exactly where the tub had been placed.
“I’m going to set you down now.”
“I cannot take weight on my feet,” Yihui murmured against him. “Eventually I will walk on my heels, but for now, you must set me down in the water.”
“Your robe will get wet,” he said. “But I am sure we can find you another.”
She nodded against his shoulder as he began to squat down. It was awkward for him, and he was excruciatingly aware of her injury, but he finally managed it.
He hadn’t thought about how it would wet his own clothing. He would have to change his shirt now, but that was nothing compared to the feel of her skin as he withdrew from the water. Silky smooth, beautifully strong, and the most perfect size for a woman.
“Thank you, Max,” she whispered just as he pulled his hands away.
Lust slammed through him at her hoarse whisper. He had been aroused before, but now there was a need in him that pounded through him. He was not a man to be overcome by lusts. And yet her modest whisper had him longing to banish everyone else from his room.
But that was wrong. In truth, it was rather depraved.
Or so he told himself as he forced himself back. “I’ll wait…um…” He cleared his throat. “Notify me when all is done. I’ll—”
“Your shirt is wet,” Yihui said.
What? Oh yes. His shirtsleeves were dripping on the floor. “Right. Um, I’ll have a maid set up the divider,” he said as he backed toward his bed. “I’ll change on this side.”
The two of them in dishabille and only a thin paper screen between them. As fantasies went, it was rather paltry, and yet his body was taut with hunger and nothing—not even his sister—could get him to leave now.