Beautiful Lies Read Online Free PDF Page B

to spread his clothes in front of him. He smiled his acceptance. “Shall I pay you now?”
    She looked up again. She had winged brows and lovely dark eyes, but it was the intelligence in them that captivated him. “You may give me money when you return tomorrow.”
    â€œWill you be here? Or will your father?”
    She shook her head, as if to say she didn’t know.
    He told himself it was despicable to hope her father would remain ill. “Will you still be here for the lay-up? Or will you be in China by then?”
    â€œIf my father is ill, I will stay and care for him.”
    â€œI’m sure you’ll be sorry to delay your wedding.”
    As he expected, she didn’t answer.
    â€œI keep saying things I shouldn’t,” he said. “I’m sorry again.”
    â€œThe man I am to marry is old, already with two wives.”
    The idea of this young woman—hardly more than a girl—marrying an old man upset him. Even more, he didnot want her to marry a man with wives who would treat her as their slave. He didn’t understand Chinese customs, but he knew this lovely young woman deserved better.
    â€œPlease, you leave now. Come back tomorrow.” Before he could respond, she gathered up the clothing and disappeared through the faded curtains into the rear of the shop.
    He stared after her until the curtains stopped swaying and the heat finally drove him outside.

3
    A rcher ordered dinner for himself and Tom, then found a table in the corner where he could sit with his back to the wall. The Roebuck was primitive by city standards, but a great improvement on the boardinghouse where he and Tom had met John Garth.
    Here, for the most part, he was surrounded by his own kind, although there weren’t many of them. Men in informal khaki and dusty moleskins and men in formal white dotted the room, talking and drinking with their mates. No one had paid attention when he entered, but he was sure that he was already known here. In a town like this one, no stranger went unnoticed.
    From his vantage point he could see into the billiard room, which was already crowded, and around the rest of the dining area, where most of the tables were empty. But as he waited idly for service, a middle-aged man in pristine white strolled in, accompanied by a hatchet-faced woman in a dark dress so stiff it didn’t even rustle as she moved. They were seated quickly, and although Archerwouldn’t have guessed deference was part of the town character, the couple immediately had two fawning hotel employees at their sides.
    â€œA bit of royalty there, hey?”
    Archer looked up at the publican who dropped cutlery in front of him along with a healthy shot of whiskey. “Who is he?”
    â€œHim? That could be you one of these days, if you just found a pearl or two fit for Her Majesty’s crown. Or a maharajah’s.”
    â€œOne of your pearling masters?” Archer had figured as much on his own.
    â€œTop o’ the heap. Sebastian Somerset and his missus. Has his shirts tailored in Singapore, his cigarettes rolled in Egypt and his champagne bottled in France.” The publican, bell-shaped and sweating profusely, gave the table a quick flick with a rag and lowered his voice. “Me, I wouldn’t trade all the pearls in the world for living with the likes of her.”
    Archer imagined the starch in the woman’s dress was limper than that in her soul. Somerset, a dark-haired man who held himself as straight as a mast, looked every bit as unyielding. His features were even and fine, but his scowl was permanently etched. “So Somerset’s been successful?”
    â€œCaptain Somerset’s got a fleet of sixteen luggers and at least two mother ships, with a big camp up by Pikuwa Creek. Regularly pulls out pearls as big as emu eggs.”
    Archer laughed. “And enough mother-of-pearl to pave the streets of heaven?”
    The publican gave the table