China Jewel by Thomas Hollyday Page A

hesitate but bent down and kissed her, long and with feeling. Then he said, “I wasn’t sure I could get away from the race. I only got back last night from the starting line out in the Atlantic.”
    “You are what I need.”
    “Me too,” he said, holding her hand, looking into her blue eyes.
    “I haven’t seen you since our dinner with Jamie,” she said. He had been counting the days too. Their schedules did not mesh given her lecture travel and his shuttling between New York and River Sunday on the Peregrine project.
    Katy reached for a folded newspaper on her desk, among the assorted manuscripts. “I read about your ship again. You’ve got a good promotion office. Besides, I’m a patriotic Maryland girl.”
    She held up the article. “Maryland entry makes excellent start in China clipper race.” Below the headline was a picture of the Peregrine with all her sails drawing, her hull several boat lengths ahead of the next entrant, the Willow.
    “No one is as happy for this state as my boss, Bill Johnson. To listen to him, you’d think the Chesapeake craftsmen invented boats.” He cleared books from the seat of a leather-covered wooden chair. The small brass label on its crest indicated the antique had been shipped to Maryland from a Boston maker in 1720.
    “I like him anyway,” Cutter said as he sat down.
    “How long can you stay with me?” she asked.
    He grinned. They could read each other pretty well by now.
    She added, “We could hire a plane and in five hours we could be naked on that Caribbean beach again.” Her eyes glistened.
    “How about naked right now?” Cutter smiled.
    “Close the door,” she whispered, color coming into her cheeks.
    “I’m afraid the overseers of the Maryland Historical Society would throw me the hell out of here,” Cutter said. He added, with a wink, “Worth it.”
    “OK,” she said, sitting back, “I’ll control my impulses and wait.” They looked at each other, with smiles of satisfaction and abandon. For Katy, the romantic outbursts contrasted with her scholarly career. For Cutter she opened a window to a new life filled with a love he had not known before.
    He picked up a six-sided pewter container at the edge of her desk. “I’ve seen one of these.”
    “Tea caddy from our collection. Your ship had these aboard. They were used to carry tea to America from China. See the design on the top?”
    “A box decorated like this is in the company hallway display in New York.”
    “It represents the Temple of the Six Banyan Trees.”
    “Where is that?”
    “You’re going to take me to see it when you win the race. It’s in Guangzhou, the place you are sailing to.”
    He put it down. “You got yourself a deal.”
    Cutter carefully tested his weight on the antique chair. He judged even with the suspicious squeak of the wooden joints he was safe.
    “I’ve got a problem,” he said.
    “That Chippendale chair?”
    “No,” he said, with a laugh. “I mean, I need your professional help.”
    A look of concern traced her face as she sat forward. He continued, explaining the discovery of the Osprey name.
    “Why didn’t Bill know?”
    “The people of color in River Sunday kept to themselves.”
    She nodded. “They were not about to stir up hatreds.”
    He said, “Whether any of this is relevant to our ship is the question. I have to make sure. I need a researcher, someone like you who can keep the work confidential.”
    Her face wrinkled. Cutter had fallen in love with that expression. She said, “Research on ships is a whole field in itself, Jimmy. Better experts than me exist for this work.”
    “Yeah, but I trust you. We don’t need to create a mystery out of all proportion. I find any dirt existing anywhere, I’ll know where Bill’s company stands. You see what I mean?”
    “If we find something evil, it could hurt your son too,” she said. “Jamie is associated with the Peregrine as part of its crew.”
    He was silent, thoughtful.
    She stood up,