Moonflower Madness (15 page)

Pain washed through her. She would make a far more compatible companion for him than Serena ever would. She remembered Henry Plaxtol and felt a surge of savage satisfaction. Zachary would never be able to pursue his interest in Serena. By the time he returned to Chung King, Serena would be married and living in England.

‘I think we should turn in,' he said to her. ‘I want to make an early start in the morning.'

She nodded assent, not allowing her eyes to meet his. If she wanted to save herself pain, the sensible thing would be for her to return to Chung King at the earliest opportunity. But if she did? What would happen to her then?

She rose from her chair and walked across the grass to where her sleeping-bag had been laid at a discreet distance from his. Her uncle and aunt would immediately send her to England in disgrace. With luck they would still assent to her going to Lady Margaret Hall, but she would have no memories of the huge, harsh glory of Kansu to take with her; no memories of finding a blue Moonflower.

She pulled off her boots and looked across to where Zachary Cartwright was making adjustments to the flower presses. His back was towards her and she unbuckled the mutilated belt, slipping quickly first out of the alien breeches and then her blouse.

As she slid into her sleeping-bag Zachary Cartwright moved back towards his chair. She wanted to continue looking at him, but the memory of the response she had elicited when he had caught her looking at him at the Residency was too raw for comfort. She closed her eyes and so did not see him once again pick up his field-book, nor did she see for how long and how broodingly he stared down at the sketches accompanying his notes.

Despite the fact that he said he wanted an early night, Zachary Cartwright lay awake for a long time before sleep eventually came. Never before had a woman disturbed his peace of mind, but ever since his brief meeting with Serena Hollis she had been continually in his thoughts. She was as delicate as a piece of exquisite porcelain; as fair in colouring as the most ethereal of flowers; as sweet-faced and as tranquil as a Madonna. To have such a woman waiting for him, on his return from an arduous expedition, would be very heaven.

He wondered what his chances were. He didn't have a title or a private fortune, but he did possess a much-respected name as an explorer and as a botanist. He was on friendly terms with his king. Any woman he married would automatically be accepted amongst Edward VII's exotic inner coterie. He would be made a professor within the next year of so, and a peerage would certainly be his for the asking within the next ten years. All told, he wasn't totally ineligible as a prospective suitor.

But would she have him? He had absolutely no way of telling. He hadn't been in her company long enough to have received any intimation as to what her opinion of him had been. It would be eight months at least before he was back in Chung King. Would she have forgotten him by then? Or would she still be thinking of him, as he knew he would still be thinking of her?

He lay on his back in his sleeping-bag, looking up at the stars. No matter what the future held for him where Serena Hollis was concerned, she was not an immediate and pressing problem. Her cousin, however, was.

Despite the irritation he felt at the problems Gianetta Hollis was posing for him, he was aware also of a feeling of amusement. She was an entertaining little baggage. He wondered if it was true, as Charles had said, that the reason for their continual sparring was their similarity to each other. ‘As like as brother and sister,' had been Charles'description.

He grinned to himself. He doubted that they were so similar, but certainly if he had ever had a sister, he imagined she might have been very similar to Gianetta Hollis. Petite and dark and vibrant and adventurous.

He rolled over, seeking for a more comfortable position on the hard ground. He felt far more sympathy for her than she would ever realise. He knew what it was like to lose both parents and to have to make a home with people who provided it out of a sense of duty. Like her, he had been fortunate enough to have found a friend. Charles was an idiot at times, but not criminally so, and he valued his friendship as Gianetta obviously valued Serena's.

Serena. Once again her blonde beauty filled his thoughts. When he returned to Chung King, he would ensure that his stay at the Residency was a prolonged one. He wondered if she had other suitors in the offing. Gianetta would know. He would have to bring up the subject with the utmost carelessness. He didn't want Gianetta Hollis suspecting his feeling for Serena, for if she did there was no telling in what way she might put the knowledge to use. She was so determined on accompanying him to Kansu that if blackmail would help her to attain her object, he could well imagine her stooping to it.

He felt a pang of regret. Despite her undoubted courage and her admirable determination, Gianetta's dream couldn't possibly be fulfilled. She had said that she was uncaring as to the damage that would be done to her reputation, and she had obviously been speaking the truth. However, if she accompanied him to Kansu it would not be only her reputation that would be ruined. His would also be destroyed. On a personal level he didn't give a damn what the gossips said about him, but things were a little different where his career as a botanist was concerned. He was carrying out the expedition to Kansu at the request of the Director of the Royal Gardens at Kew. If his expedition became the source of salacious gossip, then he would certainly not be requested to make any more expeditions for Kew. His proposed expedition to Tibet would never come to fruition, nor would there be any chance of his one day exploring the Amazon Basin.

And so Miss Gianetta Hollis would have to be returned to Chung King. The next significant town on their route was Peng, and he knew that there was an Anglican Mission there. Although their own journey from Chung King had often been arduous, it had been so through choice and because he had wanted to plant-hunt
en route
. The journey between Peng and Chung King could be undertaken relatively easily by boat and he was sure that when he asked the missionaries if they would escort Gianetta back to Chung King, they would agree to his request readily.

Overhead the stars shone thickly. As he gazed at them it occurred to him that he would miss Gianetta. He would miss her talents as an artist and he would miss her bouncy vitality. His last thought on closing his eyes was that when they descended on the mission he would have to ensure that she was wearing a skirt and that her hair was suitably pinned in a chignon and not in a Chinese queue. He wanted the missionaries to realise she was a lady and to react accordingly. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Her travelling attire at the moment was anything but ladylike. With her Chinese queue and her white blouse tucked into the belted waist of his breeches she looked like a rather exotic stable-boy.

He remembered how she had looked the previous evening when she had stepped into the firelight after her moonlight bathe. With her glossy black hair hanging wetly and sleekly to her waist, and with her skirt moulding itself sensuously to her hips, she had reminded him of a pagan naiad.

He felt his sex harden, and swore with annoyance. The sooner he was able to leave Gianetta Hollis in the safe hands of the missionaries, the better. A pagan naiad was no suitable companion on a long, lonely journey into the heart of Asia, especially for a man who was seriously considering matrimony. As he slid finally into sleep he tried once again to conjure up Serena's image. It wouldn't come. Instead of Serena, with her English milk-and-rose loveliness and sweet demeanour, his last thoughts were of a bright-eyed hoyden desecrating his best leather belt with criminal relish.

Gianetta woke to the sound of the Kialing surging inexorably southwards. She lay for a few moments, peace and tranquillity engulfing her. They would travel northwards again today. They would search for more plants and when they made camp in the evening she would sketch them into Zachary Cartwright's field-book. She would ask Zachary to tell her more about the plants that he found and she would ask him if she could begin to keep a field-book of her own.

With a day of utter satisfaction and contentment ahead of her, Gianetta slipped out of her sleeping-bag. There was no sign of Zachary. Presumably he was already plant-hunting. The Chinese had their backs to her and were busy preparing breakfast.

Dressing quietly and quickly, she first went to say good morning to Ben. Then she took her towel and walked down to the Kialing, washing in the freezing cold, dazzlingly clear water.

There were no sounds from the camp to indicate that breakfast was ready and that Zachary had returned, so she began to walk leisurely along the Kialing's bank, wondering how near to its source they would travel. Reeds grew high in the water and the bushes on the bank grew thicker in density. She skirted around them, wondering if the source lay in Kansu or if it lay even further west, in Tibet, or further north, in Mongolia.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't hear the splashing sounds coming from the river-side of the bushes. Idly imagining far distant landscapes, she rounded a giant flowering shrub and came face to face with the sight of Zachary Cartwright striding nakedly knee-deep out of the river.

His hair clung low in his neck in sodden curls, thick as a ram's fleece. Water droplets sheened the olive flesh tones of his broad shoulders and firmly muscled chest. He neither halted in his strides for the bank or made the slightest attempt to shield himself from her sight.

Her horror was total. She had never seen a man naked before, nor had it ever occured to her that she would do so, outside of marriage.

For a second that seemed to last an infinity, she was too stunned to move. She saw something hot flicker at the back of his eyes, to be immediately suppressed, and then she broke free of the shock that was immobilizing her and span on her heel, running back to the camp, her cheeks scarlet with embarrassment.

It was ten minutes or so before he joined her. When he did so he was dressed in his wine-red shirt, grey breeches and boots. He was also, quite obviously, furiously angry.

‘You see now how impossible it is for you to travel with me for months on end?' he demanded, his hair still glistening wet. ‘The terrain is such that camp-life is a necessity and camp-life conditions, as you have so memorably discovered, are totally unsuitable for a female.'

She knew what was coming and her initial horror at surprising him naked was replaced by another kind of horror.

‘We should reach Peng in two or three days,' he continued brusquely. ‘There is a Mission there. Hopefully one of the missionaries will escort you by boat back to Chung King. If, for any reason, that is not possible, you will have to remain at the Mission until the time comes when it
is
possible.'

Her mouth was dry, her distress so intense that she could hardly breathe. Only a short while ago everything had been golden and glorious. Day after day of travel through wild and beautiful countryside had stretched ahead of her. There had been Kansu to look forward to; a happier relationship with Zachary; strange and exotic plants to find. Now there was nothing. Only the prospect of a journey in tedious company back to Chung King or, even worse, dreary days to be endured in the confines of Peng's Mission.

She said thickly, ‘It isn't necessary …'

‘It is absolutely necessary.' His voice was curt, clipped and utterly final.

Desperately as she wanted to argue with him, she couldn't find the words to do so. If she was to tell him that it was shock at the unexpectedness, rather than at the nature of their encounter, that had caused her to spin on her heel in confusion and embarrassment, then he would think her shameless. There was no way that she could reassure him that the incident had been unfortunate but not one of any great consequence. Any attempt to do so would automatically label her as a young woman who was far too knowing and worldly-wise.

A faint hint of colour still touched her cheeks. To the best of her knowledge she was neither, but it had to be admitted that her reaction to the sight of Zachary Cartwright naked had not been what might have been expected from a well brought-up young lady. Quite simply, she had thought he had looked magnificent.

Misinterpreting the reason for the flush in her cheeks, Zachary gentled his manner slightly.

‘I'll make sure you're not occasioned further embarrassment before we reach Peng. We'd better have breakfast now. The sooner we start off, the sooner there will be an end to this debacle.'

He turned on his heel, walking over to the camp-fire where the Chinese were busily at work with a pan and a kettle.

She stood, watching him, feeling completely crushed and with all hope gone. Within two days, three at the most, her adventure would be over and she would have nothing to look forward to but an exceedingly difficult reunion with her uncle and aunt. All because she had walked inattentively along the wrong section of the riverbank, at the wrong time.

A little whinny came from her left-hand side and she turned her head to find that Ben was looking towards her. She walked across to him and hooked her fingers into his shaggy, cream-coloured mane.

‘I think we're going to have to go back to Chung King,' she said sadly. ‘There's nothing I can say that will change things now.'

‘Breakfast is ready!' Zachary called out, his customary impatience back in his voice.

With a heavy heart she walked over to where the breakfast had been set out on a crisp white cloth. There were the usual bowls of melon seeds, peanuts and candid peel without which the Chinese seemed to think no meal, even breakfast, complete, and there was a steaming bowl of rice and a bowl of the savoury stew that was the mainstay of their meals.

‘It's fortunate that you mastered eating with chopsticks when you were at the Residency,' Zachary said in a manner that was, for him, startlingly friendly.

She wasn't won over by it. She knew very well why he had suddenly become civil. It was because he knew he would soon be rid of her, and because he was possibly feeling sorry for her. She felt a spurt of anger. She didn't want anyone feeling sorry for her, least of all Zachary. She wanted Zachary to admire her. She wanted him to look at her in the way he had looked at Serena.