The Blonde Samurai. Jina Bacarr

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СКАЧАТЬ in a world of silk, flowers and fans. And bare breasted with numerous combs and needles decorating my hair, as I had seen in the tinted photographs of the geisha included in Lord Penmore’s letters. “Including me.”

      “I had no idea you were so interested in Japan, my dear wife,” James said, laying his hand on the back of my neck and rubbing it, making me stiffen. “I see I was mistaken.”

      He kissed my hand, expecting me to quiver. I didn’t withdraw it, signaling to him that I alone controlled my emotions. Instead, I said, “There are many things you don’t know about me, my dear husband.”

      “That’s my Katie,” my father said, smiling at me. “A girl with spirit. I see no reason why you couldn’t accompany your husband to Japan.”

      “Splendid idea, Mr. O’Roarke,” the viscount added, as if the thought were his own. “Your daughter would be a most excellent addition to the British delegation at the mikado’s court.”

      “That’s impossible, milord,” James blurted out, startling me.

      And making me angry. How dare he speak for me?

      He continued, “My wife has no intention of leaving London during the Season.”

      Ignoring his outburst, I replied, “You flatter me, Viscount Aubrey, but tell me, how could I be of assistance to the legation? I know nothing about the Japanese, though I admit I’ve been reading about their fascinating country in Lord Penmore’s letters to my husband.”

      The look of fury on James’s face was instant. Cold, fierce. I swear if he could have, he would have taken the whip to me at that moment so intense was his anger toward me.

      I pretended not to notice and continued discussing the British alliance with the Japanese with the viscount, though I was more interested in contrasting the volatile state of my relationship with my husband with my seemingly innocent remark about the romance of travel.

      “I’m certain the mikado’s court would be honored to receive you and be graced by your wit, Lady Carlton,” said the viscount, ignorant of the drama being played out between my husband and me, “as well as your charm and intelligence.”

      I smiled. I was beginning to enjoy the game. I curled my fingers around my broken fan and tapped it against my cheek in a coy manner. “In that case, how can I resist such a delightful invitation?”

      “What are you saying, my dear wife?” My husband’s voice held an edge only I recognized.

      I lowered my lashes to veil my naughty thoughts from him. “Isn’t it a wife’s duty to accompany her husband to his new post?”

      “Not if he wishes her to stay home,” he countered. “A wife must obey her husband’s wishes in all matters.”

      “All matters, James?” I flipped open my cracked fan and fluttered it about me wildly. “This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten my way, would it, my dear husband?”

      I could see his eyes flashing with contempt, knowing I had baited him and he couldn’t bow out gracefully in front of Viscount Aubrey.

      I laid my fan down on the divan, fingering the broken spine. I wouldn’t break as easily. I’d made my point, shown him he couldn’t make me surrender to his will. I’d let him simmer for a few days, feed his sexual temperament with provocative thoughts of me watching his every move in the Orient, then I’d invoke a woman’s prerogative.

      I’d change my mind.

      You see, dear lady reader, I had no intention of going to Japan. The idea disturbed me, images of intense strangeness and violence making an indelible mark upon my mind. Besides, I’d made my place here in London and occupied it with a surety and confidence I’d never experienced at home. The viscount would understand my position when I explained my trepidation and withdraw his offer gracefully. After all, what sane woman would wish to travel halfway around the world to such a barbaric country?

      “Katie, me girl, you saved the old man a heap of anguish tonight.”

      “What are you talking about, Da?” I asked, curious. I poured myself another glass of claret, still gloating over how I had perturbed my husband about accompanying him to Japan. I also knew the power of an eloquent silence and didn’t protest when James excused himself and left the gun room in haste with a feeble excuse about finding his manservant to bring more liquor. Most likely he ventured off in search of a plump bottom to vent his frustration upon with his favorite crop. The viscount finished his port then rang for his driver, citing his gout as the reason for his early departure.

      Leaving my father and I alone.

      “I don’t know how to say this, Katie, but I’m worried.”

      “About what, Da? Is Mother overdrawn on her account at Fortnum & Mason again?” I was well aware of my mother’s appetite for fine pickle relishes and peach preserves.

      He smiled. He never denied his adored Ida anything, but it wasn’t my mother’s spending habits that made him peel off the wrapper of another cigar and hold it tightly in his palm before crushing it. “I overheard something about that husband of yours that set the old man’s ears atwittering.”

      “You did?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. Did he know about James’s sexual indiscretions? This upset me more than I would admit. After all the times I spoke with my father in blunt terms about the world of politics and life’s frailties, I felt embarrassment at the thought of my da knowing about my husband’s sordid liaisons with prostitutes. Rare to blush, I put my hand to my cheek and the burn meeting my fingertips surprised me.

      “Yes,” he continued. “Some braggart from Parliament mentioned a stock deal James got himself involved with that had shady overtones.” He paused, tossing down the cigar, then said, “Though he couldn’t prove it when I challenged him.”

      “I never heard anything about it, Da.” I bit my lip the second I said the words. Why was I defending my husband?

      “I hope you’re right, Katie. I was leery about sending that husband of yours off to Japan with a letter of credit worth thousands of pounds sterling honored by my bank here in London,” my father said, laying his hand on my shoulder, “but with you going with him—”

      “Me? Go to Japan?” I turned around so quickly I spilled the wine, the deep burgundy staining my fingers red. I grabbed a cloth from the table and wiped up the mess, my victory over James dissolving as quickly as the cloth soaking up the liquid. “I—I can’t go, Da.”

      “But you seemed so eager—”

      “I was. I mean…it sounded so romantic…” I shuddered, my breath ragged. What had I done?

      I couldn’t tell my father about the dangerous game I played with my husband, the sexual innuendos, unfulfilled lust, his blatant adultery. Thomas O’Roarke already harbored a prejudice against the Englishman because of James’s high financial demands for our marriage settlement. My father had paid the exorbitant amount to make my mother happy and to secure my future. Or so he believed.

      “A sea voyage will do wonders for you both,” my father answered in that glib manner of his I knew so well when he wanted something. “Think of it as a holiday.”

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