hearing of your exploits.”
“Indeed?” wondered Arthur. “I was not aware that any of my trivial doings were public knowledge. In fact, to be blunt, sir, I have made rather strenuous efforts the other way.”
“Oh, I am certain of it,” agreed Burleigh. “Otherwise, I have no doubt our paths would have crossed far sooner.”
“Is there something I can do for you?” asked Arthur politely, all the while thinking how he might rid himself of the stranger’s unwelcome intrusion.
“Quite the contrary,” said the earl. “I am here to offer my services in your very interesting endeavours.”
Arthur realized then that the man had been intently studying the symbols etched on his skin. He quickly pulled his shirt over his chest. “Forgive me,” he said. “I fear your offer, generous as it undoubtedly is, would be of little use to either of us. I require no assistance just now. You have my thanks all the same.”
“Let us not be too hasty,” replied the earl. “Dine with me tonight, and allow me to convince you of my sincerity of purpose.” He paused, the light glinting in his keen glance. “I promise to make it worth your while.”
Chen Hu entered the room just then and, as Burleigh turned to greet him, froze in midstep. A silent sign of recognition seemed to flit across the Oriental’s visage-there and gone again before anyone saw it. “Please, be so kind as to wait outside,” said Chen Hu. He held out a hand to indicate the doorway. “We are soon finished.”
“But of course, forgive me,” replied the earl. He moved toward the entrance. “You will find me at the waterfront inn, sir,” he said to Arthur. He gave another little bow. “Until this evening, then.”
Arthur watched from the open window as the stranger disappeared down the street. “Extraordinary fellow,” he said. “Have you ever seen him before?”
“Maybe once,” replied Chen Hu, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Maybe twice.”
“There is something about him that sits uneasily.” He glanced to Chen Hu, who gazed back without expression or emotion. “I wonder what he wants, eh?”
“This you will discover tonight, not so?”
CHAPTER 13
In Which Respectability Suffers a Serious Setback
The Portuguese trading house, Martins, maintained a rough-and-ready inn down in the docklands. It had been built to serve the few foreign worthies allowed to stay ashore during the trading season. Despite its name, A Casa de Paz was anything but a peaceful house. A notorious centre for gambling, drinking, whoring, and the inevitable fisticuffs that served as entertainment for the guests-none of which appealed to Arthur-he stayed well away from the place, preferring instead the safe and snug confines of his shipboard cabin whenever he came to Macau.
Curiosity, however, exerted an attractive force, and as a flaming orange sun began to lower over the Mirror Sea, Arthur’s feet found their way to the door of the House of Peace Inn. One whiff of the muddy yard and he was of a mind to turn around and head the other way. Indeed, he was about to do just that when he heard his name called from within the cavern-dark interior. “Flinders, my good man! I’ve been waiting for you.”
Arthur turned, and Lord Burleigh appeared in the low doorway. “I am so glad to see you. I have ordered refreshments for us. Do you drink sherry?”
“Don’t we all?” he replied stiffly.
“Then please come join me, my friend.” Burleigh extended his hand and ushered his reluctant guest inside. The interior of the inn was a murky fug of smoke and stale air mingled with the stink of rancid fat and sour beer and other things too vulgar for a man of gentle breeding to dwell upon. But a table had been placed under the only open window, and it had been set with a range of dishes, with bread, meat, goat cheese, pewter goblets, and a heavy black bottle of the sweet Portuguese wine called sherry.
Two chairs were drawn to the table, and Burleigh offered one to his guest. “I hope you don’t mind my saying that I have been looking forward to this meeting for some considerable time.” He smiled. “You are a most difficult man to locate.”
“I was unaware that anyone should wish to, as you say, locate me. I simply go about my business.”
“Yes,” agreed his smiling companion; reaching for the bottle, he began pouring the cups. “I am certain that you do.” Putting aside the flask, he lifted the goblets and handed one to his guest. “Let us drink to friendship and mutual profit.”
“As you say,” echoed Arthur. He put the cool pewter to his lips and sipped the sweet liquid, which warmed his mouth agreeably. They drank for a time in silence, and Arthur felt the pain of his new tattoo begin to ease under the balm of the sweet wine. He finished his cup and put it down. “Perhaps we might begin our discussion with an explanation,” he suggested.
“Why not?” said Burleigh, pouring more sherry. “What would you like to know?”
“For a start, I’d like to know why you have been following me.”
“Nothing could be simpler,” replied the earl lightly. “As it happens, we have a mutual friend-Fatheringay Thomas. I have lately been helping him establish the Oxford library. I believe he serves as a consultant for your various expeditions, yes?”
“I speak to him about them sometimes, it is true. We have been friends for many years. Friends talk, as I’m sure you will appreciate.” Arthur smiled stiffly. “Although he has never mentioned you in any of our conversations.”
“Has he not? Oh, well. Nevertheless, he has told me of you, and your amazing exploits.”
“Hardly that, sir,” asserted Arthur, rebuffing the suggestion that his affairs were in any way adventurous. “Hardly that.”
“Pray, don’t be modest. I know a great deal more about this than you may suspect, and I know a true explorer when I meet one.”
Arthur offered a noncommittal shrug and changed the subject. “And what, may I ask, brings you to this part of the world? There is only one Englishman for every five Portuguese in Macau.”
“I am a partner in a mercantile establishment that wishes to make friends in this part of the world. I travel to advance my affairs and investments-although it takes little enough to get me out of London these days. I adore travelling. It makes a man quick on his feet and clear in his thoughts, I find. This is my third sojourn in the Orient- China, the Japans, India… and what have you.” He gave the list a diffident wave of his hand. “The sun rises in the East, as they say. The future is here.”
“Do you have family in England?” Arthur sipped more sherry, his mood mellowing with every swallow.
“I never married. Sadly. I should like to, of course, but I could not in good conscience inflict my wanderlust on anyone who looked to me for that kind of close companionship. Perhaps one day-when the urge to see new worlds under new skies has abated somewhat. Who knows?” He rolled his cup between his palms. “And yourself?” He smiled again quickly. “If you don’t mind my asking?”
Arthur hesitated, then offered, “I am a widower. It was several years ago now-she died in childbirth.”
“My sincere condolences.”
Arthur accepted the sympathy with a nod and a sip of sherry.
Burleigh indicated a tattoo on Arthur’s forearm. “Was that her name?”
Arthur glanced down, then covered the tattoo protectively. “Yes-Petranella Livingstone.”
“Of the Staffordshire Livingstones?”
“The same. Do you know them?”
“Only by name. I’ve never had the privilege of their acquaintance. Her loss must have been devastating for you.”
“My work keeps me busy.” Arthur knew he was saying too much to this stranger, revealing too much of himself. But the sherry had begun to loosen his tongue and lower his defences.
Burleigh filled their cups again. “We are men of the world, you and I,” announced the earl confidently. “We are survivors. More, sir-we are conquerors. I have no doubt you could have the pick of any genteel young lady in England… if that was what you wanted.”
“Once, perhaps,” allowed Arthur. “I fear I’ve grown too crusty and set in my ways to entertain any hopes in
