SQ 04 - The English Concubine (6 page)

‘No.’

She raised her face to his. ‘If you don’t do it what will happen?’

‘Trouble. More trouble. Financial ruin. Violence.’

Charlotte let out a gasp.

He pulled her to him, into the circle of his arms and put his lips to her ear.

‘It’s all right. It will be all right, but you must understand why I cannot be with you and not blame me.’

Charlotte held him, crushing herself against him, burying her face into his neck. She understood so little of this other life of his and it terrified her.

‘It’s all right. I will take care of it.’

He held her tightly against him, waiting for her tension to subside.

‘Tonight we will take out the old pillow books. There is one position which needs a rope but I believe you are still perhaps supple enough …’

She laughed and pushed away from him. ‘Perhaps with Alex coming it is a good thing. A little time to sort things out. Eh, xiao baobei?’

He took her face between his hands and kissed her.

‘Let’s get Lily.’

6

‘Who is the dashing man enthralling all the ladies?’ Charlotte asked.

Her companion was Isabella Kemp, formerly da Souza. She and her twin sister had formed a close friendship with Charlotte when she had first arrived in Singapore. Isabella was half sister to Teresa, Charlotte’s sister-in-law, and the subject of the divorce was never far from her lips. As protocol decreed it, Teresa was present in the company of her husband to greet the new governor and it caused a great strain for everyone concerned.

To deflect Isabella from further conversation on the matter, Charlotte had turned her attention across the crowded room to the dark-haired man surrounded by a throng of young women. The new governor had not yet arrived but was awaited with eager anticipation. His injuries and his bravery were on everyone’s lips.

‘I understand that is Commodore Mallory. He was of the company of naval officers who dined with Joseph and all those silly men at the Masonic Lodge last night. He is on his way to Hong Kong. Something about treaties, I do not fully understand.’

Charlotte looked more intensely but all she could see was a tallish figure with a broad back and dark wavy hair surrounded by the women. Mallory, Commodore Mallory, could it be …? Was this Edmund Mallory?

Edmund Mallory had been First Lieutenant aboard the Madras, the East Indiaman that had carried her from England to Calcutta. Of formidable courage and ability, he had been her guardian during the interminable voyage and she had been immensely grateful, for his eyes were of steel and no man dared to cross him. That his feelings had been much greater than hers was proved on the night they dropped anchor in the harbour at Calcutta. He had proposed marriage, professed with a painful hesitancy his deep feelings for her. But she had been terrified at the depth of his emotion and had refused him, grateful to go ashore and escape the anguish which she had clearly caused him.

He had been made a captain she knew but, now, could this be the same man, Commodore Mallory, a royal navy position?

‘Is it Edmund Mallory you speak of?’ Charlotte asked her companion.

‘I believe so. But Charlotte, you must speak to Robert. Teresa is terribly upset. The mere idea of divorce, why …’

Charlotte began to move away. ‘Of course, Isabella, it is distressing, but it is between Robert and Teresa, you see.’

Isabella put out a hand to restrain her but Charlotte escaped.

Edmund Mallory? Could it be the same man? She walked slowly through the crush. The governor and Colonel Cavenagh were expected within the next minutes. In the meantime all the European, Chinese and Arab merchants, the Temmengong and his entourage, the government officials, chaplains, army and naval officers, the entire upper echelons of Singapore society had begun gathering.

Charlotte had been looking out for Zhen. She would miss him but twelve weeks was not so very long. And it would be even a little exciting to see each other when they could not be together, like the heady days of their first kisses. She had a little space to get Alexander back on the straight and narrow. And then when Zhen came back to her … The thought was arrested by the sight of Edmund.

The slow movement through the crowd, greeting various acquaintances here and there, meant that she approached at a pace which enabled her to take in the figure of the man she believed to be her close companion of years ago. The fashion just now for new arrivals from England was for great caged crinolines, which jutted out yards from their body in vast swathes of cloth.

How did these women survive in these hot, cumbersome cages, she thought as she edged by. She was reminded of Carlyle’s pronouncement of the first purpose of Clothes being not for warmth or decency but ornament. Man might warm himself from the toils of the chase or amid dried leaves in his tree or bark shed, but for Decoration he must have Clothes.

Her own choice of Decoration was far simpler and of an older time. The petticoats were silk and soft and the outer dress of organza for lightness. She deliberately wore pale shades to these events, though always with a touch of colour. Tonight she was in white with ruby earrings and necklace.

Several women turned away from her or talked behind their fans and she chose, as she always had, to ignore this.

She was greeted by the St. Joseph’s contingent, Father Beurel, Evangeline, his housekeeper and Joseph Lee, the Chinese priest. She had known them almost twenty years and they spoke briefly. It was people like these and others like the da Souza family, Reverend Keaseberry and his wife, old, old friends, and new ones who felt no imperative to take a moral stance. These came from unlikely quarters. Miss Cooke, to whose school Charlotte made donations, and many of the German and French merchant families.

Thus, stopping to greet friends, and ignore enemies, knowing she left a frothy wake of gossip in her passage, she made her way towards the man she believed to be Edmund. The band began a lively tune which signalled the arrival of the Governor’s carriage and the crowd ebbed suddenly. The dark-haired man turned and, with a sharp intake of breath, she recognised him.

His attention was momentarily taken with the throng at the door and the insistent conversation of the woman at his elbow, a woman Charlotte recognised as Emily Blackwood, the pretty young daughter of the new Resident Counsellor.

His head was inclined to Miss Blackwood’s in an attitude of gentlemanly attention when a further jostling of the crowd occasioned him to look up and their eyes met.

That he recognised her was not in doubt. They stood, both of them, a moment, then he inclined his head in a bow in her direction and she dropped into a small curtsy.

Emily Blackwood, attentive to his every move, removed her gaze from him to Charlotte and the glance she threw was a blade. Emily’s father appeared, gathered up his daughter and bundled her towards the hall to greet the Governor.

The Chinese merchants moved as one through the throng. Zhen sought Charlotte but the crush was too great. Tonight he was accompanied by the Fu Shan Chu and other important members of the kongsi. Hong had been invited but had refused. Zhen knew that Hong was uncomfortable with the men of the government. He spoke no English at all, had no social graces, was as ignorant as a peasant with a peasant’s mentality. His entire being was concentrated on money and power. Cheng Sam Teo was in attendance but hung back. This place was new to him. Here he was at the very centre of British power in the Far East. It was overwhelming when one had spent most of one’s life in a small town in Riau. He looked around at the great room with its elegance, the lines of red-coated soldiers, the European women in the silk gowns and exposed bosoms and felt entirely intimidated.

Zhen seemed totally in his element. Cheng looked at the man they had selected. He was to be merely a momentary and useful filler until Cheng could get his bearings and bid for the leases and understand the extent of his father-in-law’s power in Johor.

But he did not look like that. His height made him stand out. With his silk robes and the mandarin hat with the diamond, he looked like an emperor. He moved with ease in the throng. He spoke fluent English and bowed and talked to the government men. Everyone knew him. Cheng felt at once that he had been an inspired choice. His mind began to entertain other more interesting possibilities. Ones of a more permanent nature. Where was his English concubine? Cheng searched the crowd for this black-haired woman.

The young Temenggong arrived in the midst of his retinue, resplendent in his rakish turban, tight gold trousers and green silk coat embroidered with gold thread and diamonds. Cheng, Zhen and the Deputy went forward to greet him.

Edmund took three strides and was at her side. She felt short of breath. He was so very unexpected.

‘Hello, Charlotte.’

Charlotte had forgotten his voice, the deep, modulated tones. She remembered, in a rush, the calmness of his voice under pressure, when waves were pouring over the ship or when they had, terrifyingly, lost sight of the fleet. Remembered his courage, his unflagging strength which gave strength to others. He was a born naval commander. She had forgotten, though, his physical appearance. He had been only twenty-one when they had met and now he was fully a mature man of forty. His shoulders had broadened, the litheness of his body had changed into the hard sinew and muscle of a seaman, used to hardship. His face was tanned, furrowed from the sea life, his chestnut hair thick and wavy. All these things she could not recall. But his eyes she did remember, brown eyes, filled with intelligence and quickness. These had not changed. He was dressed in the dark blue, white and pale gold uniform of a high-ranking royal naval officer. It suited him very well.

‘Edmund, how incredible that you are here.’

Edmund smiled. She had forgotten his smile too, the warmth of it. Edmund was stoical and careful of his emotions, but not guarded with those he trusted.

‘You look well, Charlotte, as lovely as I remember you.’

Something in the way he said these words spoke of a constant remembrance, as if he had thought of her often. She could hardly believe that was true but it left her nonplussed. She looked down and a silence fell upon them.

He broke this little moment by taking her hand and putting it to his lips.

Zhen’s gaze found Charlotte at that moment with her hand in that of another man, the lips of that man upon her hand, her eyes gazing at him, her body so quiet and attentive to that man, in an attitude of total rapture, or so it seemed. The merchants around him followed his gaze. She was always of interest to these men. A beautiful white woman beyond their own reach, who slept with a Chinese man. Human natured demanded curiosity and envy.

The Deputy whispered to Cheng, who moved to Zhen’s side. ‘I am sorry to keep you from such beauty,’ he said, ‘it will not be for long.’

Zhen felt his face grow hot.

‘I am so very glad to see you again,’ Edmund said, holding on to her hand.

Charlotte smiled and gazed into the warmth of his smile.

‘Oh Edmund, and I am so very glad to see you.’

The band struck up God Save the Queen. Edmund released her hand and turned to the door.

Charlotte, too, looked to the door and there saw Zhen, surrounded by the entire Chinese merchant population of the town, all gazing at her. She started, surprised and suddenly guilty. Zhen threw her a deep look of unfathomable meaning and moved away.

Now Edmund too was claimed by duty and his naval colleagues and left, with a small backward look at her, to form the line for the new governor.

Robert came to her side, sliding his arm into hers.

‘Come on, time to take our places. Teresa is looking for you.’

She shook him off. ‘Why on earth can’t you sort out your business, Robbie? Do you really want to spend your life with Shilah when Teresa is your wife and loves you so much?’

Robert’s mouth dropped open, staring at his sister. By the time he closed it again, she had moved away, the anthem had finished and Colonel Cavenagh had made his entrance to the room between the serried rows of officers and civilians. He was short and stocky with mutton-chop whiskers and a bald head.

‘You can hardly see his false leg.’

Charlotte felt her arm taken and, startled, looked at her niece.

‘Amber, it’s you. Thank heaven. I thought it might be … never mind.’

They both watched as the new governor approached with Governor Blundell. Behind him, with Mrs. Blackwood, was Mrs. Cavenagh, a slim woman of some elegance but less than compelling beauty.

‘She has the face of a horse,’ whispered Amber.

Charlotte tapped her niece’s hand lightly. ‘Stop it. You girls spend all your time in horrid gossip. Now hush.’

Both Charlotte and Amber curtsied gracefully to Colonel Cavenagh as he passed and finally the official arrival ceremony was over. The band began a gay tune and the noise level rose as each and every one found their acquaintance and discussed the new Governor and his lady. Champagne was passed and Charlotte allowed Amber a glass.

‘He hardly limps at all. It’s marvellous, don’t you think? But shall he dance? With only one arm he might attempt a gavotte, perhaps, but I rather think not the waltz.’

Amber laughed gaily and Charlotte smiled. She, Zhen’s daughter, Lian, and Sarah Blundell were impossibly high spirited. But she did not begrudge them it for, Charlotte knew their lives would change in some way or other irrevocably all too soon.

As for Lian, despite the shock of Zhen’s announcement she had argued the girl’s case. Zhen had listened politely and then said he would look into it. She could not go further on the matter and had no desire to spoil their last evening together.

Sarah Blundell had no greater ambition than to be married to some English officer and become a regimental wife. Perhaps, she, of the three, might actually find happiness.

Amber, surprisingly, paid little attention to the young men who had come courting. She was not of the highest birth, of course, being the daughter of a white man and an Indian nyai, and, in consequence, the young men had not been of the highest calibre either, but none of that seemed to matter, in any case, to Amber. She was simply not interested in them. She showed an aptitude for languages and spoke excellent Malay and passably good French.