The Concubine's Daughter (34 page)

Ben could not restrain the twitch of a smile as he described his enemy. “They say he can split the planks of a sampan or crack a stone water jar by charging it like a bull. Perhaps it is this part of his training that makes him such a dangerous maniac. He was the one I defeated in mortal combat.”

Ben considered his words carefully before saying more. “Chiang-Wah tried to burn
Golden Sky
before she was launched. Luck was with me again: I caught him before it was too late … but the conflict left him seriously burned, hideously maimed by flaming tar.

“I have no doubt that he was acting for one of my many rivals. Double Dragon’s Sky Class clippers were proving their greatest competition in the river trade. It was also well known that I am a founding director of the Anti-Opium Smuggling Board, which makes me a threat to those who grow fat on the profits of the opium trade. But J. T. Ching and I had reached a personal understanding that has held firm for over a decade.”

“Then why is this thing sent to me?”

“Because Chiang swore revenge upon his honor as a temple boxer. He has lost all face among the tongs, not because of what he tried to do at the Double Dragon shipyards, but because he failed, which brought dishonor upon his brothers. He disappeared, and it was thought that he returned to China. There have been rumors of his death in combat a dozen times.

“This all happened ten years ago, and has not troubled me until this moment. Until now, the only thing Chiang could take from me that could not be replaced was my life, which he knew would not be easy. But now there is you.”

He went on, with a careful attempt to make light of the situation that
left increasingly uneasy. “It is a matter I can quite quickly attend to. Now that I think about it, I greatly doubt that Chiang is behind it, or even that he is alive. It is a foolish attempt to frighten you. I ask you to ignore it and leave things to me.”

Li prompted again, almost gently. “The hole in the talisman. What does it mean?” When he hesitated once more, she spoke with quiet deliberation. “At Ten Willows, my family had a credo: ‘Hide from nothing and run from no one.’ I would not betray that credo now.”

“Acid … ,” he said finally in a voice she did not recognize. “The hole in the talisman is made by a single drip of sulphuric acid.” Li left the couch and picked up the talisman in disbelief, sniffing it carefully. It smelled of vinegar and almonds. She tossed it back onto the desk.

“I am not afraid. All my life I have lived with the threat of violence and pain. Perhaps it has followed me here.”

She spoke steadily and calmly. “I am aware of the black society; it is everywhere and always has been. No melon can be sold on a street corner, no lantern can be lit in a fan-tan parlor, no pipe can be smoked on a divan, and no building can rise without being touched by the hand of the tong. So please, do not be afraid to tell me.” Unable to face her, Ben stood abruptly, his hands clasped behind his back. His words came finally in a voice she hardly recognized.

“The threat of disfigurement through acid is a favorite weapon of the street gang. No secret society worth its name would stoop to such cowardice—but to those who hide like rats it is as cheap and as easy as it is abominable.” He turned to the fireplace, reaching for a fire iron, jabbing a smoldering log into a geyser of sparks until the flame caught. “Sometimes the acid is injected into the empty shell of a duck egg, the hole sealed … an acid bomb easily tossed into a victim’s face.” He stopped, his hands on the mantelpiece, staring silently into the gathering flames.

She lifted her voice, dismissing such thoughts with a brighter note. “The house you are building on Hong Kong Island, does it have high walls and a gate? Is it to be made as secure as Sky House?”

Ben nodded, amazed by the coolness of Li’s reactions. “Yes,” he assured
her. “Its walls and entrance will always be well guarded.” Ben tried to lift his tone to one of reassurance. “The area of Repulse Bay is home to the wealthy and covered by armed patrols. Every precaution has been taken to assure absolute security.”

“And will there be a garden as beautiful as the one here?” she asked. “Will the air bring the scent of jasmine in the evening and gardenias at sunrise, and will the sound of birds greet each day?”

“Even more beautiful; Ah-Kin has designed the grounds after the celestial gardens of Ti-Yuan, in Peking. It is to be our place of peace and contentment; and if it must, it will also be our fortress.”

Ben turned to look at her, a slow smile returning to his face. “Your gods and mine placed you safely in my arms … and only they can take you away from me.”

“Then I am not afraid to live there with you. Already you have given me more of freedom and happiness than I could have hoped for. If our gods continue to smile on us, we will raise sons as brave and strong as their father.”

Ben smiled his admiration. “And daughters as brave and beautiful as their mother.”

Li smiled back, but knew the discussion must not end there. She picked up the evil yellow square again, inspecting it more closely.

“We must figure out how this was delivered to my room. May I be present when you speak to Ah-Ho? Perhaps we should send for her now.”

Again his hesitation was scarcely hidden, but she persisted. “It is under my door that this foul thing has crept. If I am to ease my mind, I beg the right to judge for myself whatever she may say.”

Moments later, Ah-Ho stood rigidly before Ben, having bowed to just the right degree. He was seated at his desk, while Li had returned to the couch. The head amah barely glanced at the card upon the desk, nor did her eyes meet his when she was asked how such a thing could be delivered within his house without her knowledge. Her replies to his questions were properly respectful but told him nothing: She could not tell how this could have happened and would make an immediate investigation.

“You have been the head of my household for many years and have always enjoyed my trust.” Ben’s voice was firm but fair, with no hint of accusation. “I am aware of your squeeze and consider this to be your rightful reward for a large house kept well and without trouble.”

He held up the talisman for her to see. “This is bad joss for all in Sky House. If it came from outside, then security is to be blamed. If it came from inside, then you are responsible for harboring a criminal.” He tossed the card back onto the desk and stood to face her.

“I expect you to discover who placed this under Miss Li’s door. When she is threatened, so am I. You will tell those beneath you that unless this worthless idiot is made known to me, there will be no
lai-see
for the New Year. If this should happen again, I will hold you liable and inform the police. Whoever is responsible will be publicly shamed and locked away. Am I clearly understood?”

Ah-Ho bowed, departing swiftly and silently at Ben’s wave of dismissal. Li wondered if he realized that the amah had not once acknowledged her presence.

L
i-Xia and Ben Devereaux
were married aboard
Golden Sky
moored off Pagoda Anchorage in the Formosa Strait. The ceremony was performed by Captain Da Silva, master mariner, with the sky as their vaulted ceiling and a calm, jade-green sea as their cathedral floor.

Winifred Bramble served as matron of honor, and Wang was present to give the bride to the groom. The only other witness was the Fish, who was then sent ashore with the rest of the skeleton crew for a week’s leave. Later that evening, Indie too slipped away in the shore boat, depositing Miss Bramble in the care of an excellent guest house in the city of Foo-chow, which she was eager to explore, while he took himself off to amusements of his own. Only Wang remained discreetly stationed forward to see to their every need, while they occupied the master’s cabin and the main saloon, connected by a speaking tube to the galley and the pantry.

It had been the wedding of Li’s choice. She could have been married in Hong Kong; Ben had offered to make it the wedding of the year. She could have chosen St. John’s Cathedral, with a reception at Government House or the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club or the grand ballroom of the stately Repulse Bay Hotel. Wearing a lustrous white dress, she could have been presented to the governor and leading dignitaries of the colony; there would have been flowers and jewels of great beauty and a banquet of court cuisine fit for an empress. But Li could not have borne the hidden poison that would make a mockery of their happiness and a fool of her husband.

She knew that, in order to please her, he would have used his money and power to force society to at least pretend to accept their marriage. This she could not allow. Neither did she feel comfortable in the company of strangers, even those who claimed to be his friends. The Chinese among his acquaintances would certainly despise her. To them she would never be his
tai-tai
, his legitimate wife; she would always be the scheming
cheep-see
who used her skills in the bedroom to turn his head. The Westerners, with their fashionable ladies, would scorn her and pity him, the lonely half breed who married a girl he found in a pig basket.

In her secret heart, Li vowed that she would do anything to please and to help her husband. He was a great man who believed in the code of loyalty, thinking that through generosity and reason he could command respect, but he did not know the minds of those around him. Because of this, she feared for him. She knew that Ah-Ho and the servants of Sky House were consumed with malice; it was as apparent to her as the large yellow diamond that now sparkled in a band of pure white gold on her finger. She could not tell him of the muttered threats and insults that lurked around every corner. When she was mistress of the Villa Formosa, perhaps she could deal with such matters in her own way.

Meanwhile, she could tell that he was secretly delighted by her request, confessing that a ceremony at sea, with only those who cared about them as witness, suited him admirably. In turn, he proposed they spend the next eight weeks sailing and exploring a dozen ports of call, a time of joy and freedom that he called a “honeymoon,” the idea of which pleased her greatly.

The Fish had proudly helped her dress in a simple
sam-foo
of crocus-yellow silk trimmed with gold, crowning her hair with a spray of morning stars. She carried a bunch of gardenias surrounded by Cornish violets. Ben wore the full dress uniform of a master mariner, and Indie that of an officer in the Portuguese navy.

The early morning ceremony was celebrated under an azure sky. A land bird perched in the rigging—a thrush, Ben said, such as could be found in the hedgerows of Cornwall. An omen of great blessing, Wang
assured them, as he set a plate of crumbs to encourage its warbling. Certain in his romantic heart that this Chinese girl was born to be his partner’s wife, Indie Da Silva pronounced the vows with simplicity and grace. Miss Bramble, in a lavender dress, brought the freshness of an English churchyard to the foredeck of
Golden Sky
by showering them with confetti. Then the good lady produced her Kodak Brownie box camera and took many photographs.

For all of her joy at the occasion, Li found herself anticipating the night to come with a mixture of concern and curiosity: concern that she might not please him, curiosity to experience the thunder and rain she had heard so much about.

Certainly he showed no hurry in taking her to bed. After Indie and Miss Bramble had departed, they spent the first evening on deck, swept by balmy offshore airs, watching the twinkling of lamplight from the Tanka village. Seated beside her on the divan built into the stern, he put his arm around her, encircling her in contentment and comfort.

Her doubts were forgotten as they watched the rising of a spectacular moon. “Did you know,” she said, “the Hakka fishermen believe that when the sky is filled with stars, it is Heng-O, the Moon Lady casting her net, and each star is a silver fish? The boat people say that such a starry night as this brings a good catch and assures good fortune.”

“Then this should be a gift you will enjoy. It will bring the stars so close, you will want to reach out to touch them. It is the eye of every sea captain, and you are now among them.”

He gave her a long, narrow case of polished wood. Inside, cushioned in green velvet, was a leather-bound telescope. He showed her how to focus the lens until the moon and stars fell into her lap.

Wang had brought them a light but delicious meal of shrimp and shellfish steamed in ginger. Now, the sound of his flute drifted aft with the haunting music of Old China.

Ben went below and after a while came back on deck dressed in a robe of light satin, its sheen iridescent as a black pearl. “Wang has prepared a warm bath for you, and you will find a robe like this on the bed.”

The small bathroom adjoined the master’s cabin, the round bath piled with glistening bubbles. She had taken a glass of sangria and found it calmed the fluttering in her stomach, as she lay in the scented bath almost too tired to stir. Toweled dry, the satin cool and loose against her glowing skin, she lay upon the bed uncertain what to expect, watching the brass-bound steps leading from the deck, waiting for him to appear.

Li remembered nothing more until she awakened beside him in the huge bed. It was morning, the circles of light from the portholes shifting to the lazy heave of a gentle ground swell. He was asleep, his breathing deep and even. Her satin robe was still fastened at the waist. She lay still, recalling the evening, the food and wine, the stars spilling into the sea, the music of Wang’s flute, the scented luxury of the bath… .

As she rose on an elbow, afraid to wake him, she saw that he wore nothing over his bare arms and chest. The hair that curled thickly on his chest and forearms fascinated her, and she dared to reach out and touch it lightly, gliding the tips of her fingers up and down his arm and across the breadth of his chest. So this was the hair of a barbarian?

She looked closely at his sleeping face, so much younger without the bronze beard, the stubble glinting on his chin and cheeks. With thudding heart and her breath held, she slowly lifted the satin sheet to look beneath it, to find he wore loose-fitting trousers of black silk. She recalled nothing of pain or of pleasure, and felt only well rested, content to gaze at him undisturbed.