by Jane Jackson
Richard had made his declaration, now it was Frances’s turn.
‘Friends, you are witness this day …’ she was almost as pale as her bridal gown, ‘… that I take Richard Thomas Webber to be my husband, promising with the Lord’s assistance to be a loving and faithful wife until death separate us.’
Her declaration complete, Frances’ whole body seemed to unclench. Susanna watched her sister steal a shy glance at the man to whom she had committed the rest of her life. But gazing proudly at the assembled guests he didn’t notice as he led her across the room to two chairs placed side by side.
Another minister stood up and, citing the declaration as an allegory of the pledge between man and his Maker, he launched into another sermon.
Then it was time for the marriage certificate to be signed. With relatives of both families required to add their names, confirming their approval of the match, the process was slow. Meanwhile Frances and Richard withdrew to the ladies anteroom to receive good wishes and congratulations from those who had already signed.
‘Perhaps you’ll be next, Susanna.’ Elizabeth Tregelles said just as Mrs Webber shuffled past leaning heavily on a walking stick.
‘No man with a care for his good name would have anything to do with her. The girl doesn’t know how to behave. She’s up at that Seaman’s Home all hours,’ Mrs Webber confided as though Susanna wasn’t there. ‘No decent young woman would have anything to do with the place. With the reputation she’s getting, her poor parents haven’t a hope of marrying her off.’
Marry her off? She was a person, not an inconvenient parcel to be disposed of. ‘Will you excuse me?’ Without waiting for a reply Susanna walked away.
‘There you are, what did I tell you?’ Mrs Webber enquired with malicious pleasure, raising her voice to catch the attention of everyone nearby. ‘Just look at her. And not a word of apology.’
Susanna’s face flamed. What was she supposed to apologise for? Her throat thickened and she took a deep breath. As chief bridesmaid she could not leave. She blinked hard and opened her eyes wide to dispel the tears before they could fall. This was Frances’ day. Nothing must spoil it. Let them say what they wished. She knew the truth.
With the signing complete the ceremony was over. Watching Richard helped his bride into the carriage taking them back to the house Susanna wondered what Frances was feeling. Observing her sister’s pallor and fixed smile as she waved through the window Susanna recalled the book on marriage Frances had spoken of and the lines she had quoted.
Religion taught that marriage was supposed to be the closest union on earth. Yet the books implied that marriage changed a man from a courting lover, the soul of delicacy, into a vulgar beast. How? What happened?
Her conscience needled. Such thoughts were sinful. But if marriage was the only acceptable ambition for a woman, how could one not wonder? Besides, since falling in love with Edward – and what other explanation could account for the way being close to him made her heart beat faster and her limbs tremble – her passionate curiosity to experience a man’s caresses far out-weighed her shame.
Shepherding the other bridesmaids, giggling and chattering excitedly, into one of the fleet of carriages hired to convey guests from the Meeting House back to Wodehouse Place, Susanna imagined her own wedding day. She pictured herself dressed in shimmering white; her hair released from its usual uncomfortable confinement rippling in dark waves down her back and crowned with a simple wreath of orange blossom in the style of a painting by Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
She pictured Edward standing tall and distinguished at her side, her hand drawn through his arm, his fingers resting warm and reassuring on hers as he smiled down at her. But the rest of the image was indistinct, the surroundings blurred. For they could not marry here at the Meeting House and she had never been inside any other place of worship.
Anxiety nibbled at the edges of her happiness and the beautiful image began to fray and dissolve. She clung to her vision. In Edward’s love she would find all the strength and support she needed to face the problems a ‘mixed’ marriage would inevitably raise.
The meal was a triumph: clear soup, dressed crab, cold baked ham with peach chutney and tomato pickle, game pie with bowls of winter salad, roast chicken served with roast potatoes, sprouts, carrots and buttered parsnips, and desserts of fruit jelly with dishes of rich clotted cream, plum tarts, and two huge crystal bowls of trifle.
There were no speeches or toasts but Richard presented each of the bridesmaids with a locket made of his and Frances’ hair. Susanna thanked him courteously but couldn’t prevent her gaze straying upward to his carefully styled coiffure. Just how much of the hair in the locket was his? He had little to spare. Richard’s suddenly heightened colour and the pinching of his mouth showed he knew exactly what she was thinking and hated her for it.
The wedding presents were arrayed on a long table down one side of the drawing room for everyone to admire. After the meal was over the guests formed knots and groups. Bride and groom circulated separately as custom decreed.
Ignored by some, given distant smiles by others, Susanna stood at one side of the drawing room looking for William.
‘Ah, Susanna.’ Richard’s voice, soft and gloating, made her spin round. ‘With regard to your recent conduct I think I should warn you –’
‘Really, Richard, this is hardly the time or the place –’
‘On the contrary, these are exactly the right circumstances. By marrying your sister I have become the senior male member of this family … after your father, of course. But he is a very busy man with increasing demands on his time and attention. Therefore I must take the responsibility of improving your standards of behaviour and discipline.’ His eyes glittered with malice and anticipation. ‘From now on your life will be very different, dear sister-in-law.’
Instinct and a lifetime’s training urged Susanna to back down, avoid confrontation. But self-respect and her foolish stubborn pride demanded she remain exactly where she was.
She lifted her chin, one hand rising to seek the jade medallion, invisible beneath her buttoned bodice. She had no idea why but touching the exquisitely carved jade always comforted and reassured her.
‘Nothing to say?’ he taunted, his gaze dropping to her fingers. Susanna swiftly camouflaged her action by pretending to brush away a crumb.
‘Indeed, I have. I find it most peculiar that a man only an hour married should be so concerned with the activities of his wife’s sister.’ She eyed him with icy contempt. ‘I think my father might query your sense of priorities.’
His mouth opened and closed but no sound emerged. Then puce with rage he glanced furtively round to make sure there was no one within earshot. ‘You won’t get away with this,’ he hissed, spittle flying. ‘I’ll make you give me the respect I deserve.’
‘But Richard,’ she smiled sweetly, her gaze mirroring disgust, ‘I always have.’ Turning her back she slipped away through the milling throng.
‘I know he’s a pain,’ William sympathised, ‘but just think what life has been like for him. His father drinks and his mother always has something wrong with her.’
Purged of her fury Susanna inhaled deeply. ‘I wonder which came first?’
‘Who knows?’
‘Well, for someone so expert at playing the martyr she certainly has a vicious tongue.’
William nodded. ‘Richard can’t have had an easy childhood growing up in that atmosphere. He’s got no brothers or sisters. So there was no one to confide in. I imagine it was pretty lonely for him.’
‘That doesn’t give him the right to order me about.’
‘No, of course it doesn’t. But don’t you see? Richard has spent his life putting on a brave face, pretending not to be hurt or embarrassed by his parents’ behaviour.’
‘What has that to do with me?’ Susanna demanded.
‘Appearances. They mean everything to Richard. It’s often that way with people who come from difficult or unhappy background
s. And he might feel he’s married above his station –’
‘He has.’
‘Yes, well, he’s probably got this mental picture of how he wants life to be in the future. Everything correct and proper, everyone obeying the rules, doing what is expected of them.’
Susanna stared at her brother. ‘And I’m a threat?’
William grinned. ‘You certainly are. If we were allowed to gamble, I’d lay money on Richard’s bossiness being a cover for anxiety.’
Though she suspected that part of her brother-in-law’s antipathy toward her welled from a deeper, darker source, William’s theory did make a lot of sense. Linking her arm through his, Susanna gave him a quick hug. ‘I wish I had your gift, Will.’
‘What gift?’
‘You always see the best in people: even those who don’t deserve it. And that includes me.’
‘It’s tough being a saint,’ he grinned. ‘Meredith’s waving at you. She seems in fine form. ‘
Susanna followed his gaze and waved back. ‘Do you think they’ll have heard anything yet?’
‘I’d have thought it was a bit too soon.’
‘No, we’re still waiting,’ Meredith replied in answer to Susanna’s enquiry. ‘In the meantime we are making preliminary preparations. I have been re-reading Mr Hudson Taylor’s pamphlets. When I think of the heathen hordes in China my heart bleeds for them. The eleven inland provinces have a total population of nearly two hundred million, yet not a single missionary between them. Is that not a glorious challenge?’ Meredith’s bolster-like bosom swelled with evangelistic fervour.
‘It’s certainly an awful lot of people –’
‘Lucy has been to see Uncle Joshua,’ Meredith steamrollered on. ‘He’s working with the family solicitor on all the necessary financial arrangements. We want everything sorted out as quickly as possible so that we will be ready to leave the moment the letter arrives.’ With a beatific sigh, she folded her hands across her corseted midriff. ‘I leave that side of things to Lucy. She only fusses if she sees me getting tired. She’s right of course. I must conserve my energy. There will be so much to do once we get to China. My dear,’ she murmured, her gaze sharpening as she looked past Susanna. ‘Would you believe that’s the third slice of cake Mrs Mabey has had? Appreciation is one thing, but three slices?’ She clicked her tongue. ‘I was hoping to take a piece home with me.’
But what if Mr Hudson Taylor turns you down? Susanna could not bring herself to ask.
‘We will have to think about booking our passage soon,’ Meredith turned back to Susanna. ‘Naturally we’ll sail from Falmouth. But fewer ships make the voyage now.’ Her eyes softened, losing their focus. ‘What a different story it was fifteen years ago. Father used to tell us such stories …’ She snapped out of her reverie so sharply that Susanna almost jumped. ‘Lucy was wondering whether we should let the house. She says it will only get damp if it’s left empty. But I don’t know. The thought of strangers sleeping in our beds and eating at our table … Still,’ her frown cleared and she smiled, ‘we’ll be strangers in China, won’t we? We’ll be sleeping in strange beds and eating at strange tables while we go about the Lord’s work. Yes,’ she nodded firmly. ‘We must let the house. Isn’t it romantic? Two young people about to set sail on the ocean of matrimony.’ Leaving Susanna to follow in her wake she forged her way through the crowd which had gathered at the door to wave Frances and Richard off on their honeymoon.
‘What of your young patient?’ Lucy enquired softly as Susanna helped her on with her cloak. ‘Is he making good progress?’
‘The best,’ Susanna whispered. ‘His leg has been saved and there has been no putrefaction in the wound at all. Edward was a little concerned when he changed the second dressing as the skin around the wound had been burnt by the carbolic acid. But a new dressing of gauze soaked in a mixture of carbolic and olive oil soothed the raw skin while maintaining the antisepsis.’
‘Indeed,’ Lucy responded faintly. ‘Naturally, I am delighted to hear such good news, but,’ she managed a smile, ‘I have to confess I did not expect to receive quite so much detail.’
‘Oh Lucy, how tactless of me. I never thought –’
‘I know. Don’t look so stricken. I’m quite all right. You just took me by surprise.’ Her gaze was both shrewd and troubled. ‘You are a remarkable young woman, my dear. I only hope –’ Whatever she had been going to say was lost as more guests spilled into the hall, laughing and chatting as they took their leave.
Chapter Fourteen
Turning the glass between his palms Lowell gathered his thoughts. ‘In a word, the situation is desperate. According to a mandarin I met in Hangkow, the British are trying to take over China in the same way that we are taking over India. But China is too strong. So having deliberately tried to impoverish the country by importing opium, we are now sending in missionaries – who are really government agents – to win the hearts and minds of the people by deception and so destabilise the country.’
‘I see.’
Lowell continued. ‘The treaties have deprived China of sovereignty over her navigable rivers and control of customs revenues. The settlements built by the British, French and Americans in the treaty ports are protected by armed guards, and are beyond the reach of Chinese law. How would you feel if you were an educated Chinese?’
Cathcart’s forehead creased in mild perplexity. ‘Forgive me for being blunt, but whose side are you on?’
‘My own.’
‘Very successfully, it would appear.’
Lowell shrugged. ‘I was in the right place at the right time.’
‘Isn’t that carrying modesty a bit far?’ Cathcart’s smile was shaded with irony. ‘Who would have thought smuggling salt could prove so lucrative? And I imagine this will not be the first time you have carried guns. Yet you’ve never carried opium. Why?’
Lowell felt the familiar tightness in his chest as memories crowded his mind. Of all the rows he’d had with his father, that had been the bitterest.
‘I want you to come into the business, as my heir,’ his father had announced.
‘Oh yes?’ Lowell was openly sceptical. They had not seen each other for almost two years. Not since … he shied away from the recollection. The scene had been painful enough at the time. Later, after the tragedy, the memory of his mother’s tears had tortured him for weeks. But how could he have known? And if he had, would he have chosen differently? No, he would not.
He glanced swiftly around. As well as the large mahogany desk and a leather chair the colour of ox-blood, his father’s spacious new office contained two superb cut-glass chandeliers fitted with the best spermaceti candles, an elegant French sofa, a low rosewood table and corner cabinets displaying choice items of porcelain and jade figurines. The polished wood floor was partly covered by a Chinese silk carpet. Business was obviously booming.
‘Are you listening to me?’ Joseph demanded. ‘I mean it.’ ‘What about John?’ Now eighteen Lowell was Second Mate on the brigantine Sprite. No sooner had they tied up alongside the jetty that morning than Lowell had been summoned. Brandishing a letter from Joseph Hawke, Captain Beamish had told Lowell to go ashore at once. He had been oddly brusque but Lowell put that down to annoyance at this interruption to normal procedure.
‘What about him?’ Joseph snapped.
‘He’s your heir, remember? Being groomed to take over the company?’
Joseph made an impatient gesture. ‘Not any more he isn’t. I’ve washed my hands of him. He’s worse than useless. A weakling with no backbone.’
Lowell sprang to his brother’s defence. ‘He’s done his damndest to live up to your expectations. But nothing is ever good enough for you, is it? He’s your son yet you treat him like a coolie.’
Joseph stiffened, his face darkening with anger. ‘How dare you speak to me like that!’
‘It’s time someone did.’
Joseph Hawke suddenly laughed. ‘You’ve got nerve, boy, I’ll say that for you.’ He
leaned forward. ‘Just what the company needs. Spirit. Young blood. I thought your brother –’ He shook his head. ‘I had high hopes for that boy. Didn’t I give him the best education money could buy? Didn’t I settle his gambling debts? Then there was that other matter. I still shudder when I think of the damage that could have done if it had reached the papers. It cost me a fortune to pay off the girl’s family. Silly little bitch. It could have been dealt with discreetly. There are ways. Everyone knows that. She didn’t have to kill herself.’
He snorted indignantly. ‘No one could have done more for his son. All wasted. But you’ve turned out far better than I expected. So I’m giving you a second chance.’ Beaming with magnanimity Joseph leaned forward over his massive desk. ‘What do you say, boy? Between us we could build this business up to rival Jardine’s.’
‘No, thank you, Father. I already have a career. At sea.’
‘And that’s all thanks to me. In case you’ve forgotten, it was I who apprenticed you to Captain McKenzie.’
‘Only because you thought I’d fail,’ Lowell shot back. ‘You wanted to teach me a lesson and bring me to heel. I survived five years of slave labour in conditions you cannot even begin to imagine.’
‘And what have you got to show for it?’ Joseph sneered. ‘Second mate? What’s that compared with what I’m offering?’
‘What exactly are you offering, Father? A partnership? Shares in the company?’
‘Certainly not,’ Joseph snapped. Then, as irony twisted Lowell’s mouth, he tried to backtrack. ‘Not immediately. You have to learn the business first. That’s reasonable, isn’t it?’
‘I’ve already served one apprenticeship. Second Mate might not sound like much to you, but I’m an officer. And I earned it. Anyway that’s just the start. I intend to be master of my own ship before I’m thirty.’
‘Why wait that long?’ Joseph came round the desk and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You’ve made your point. You don’t want to come ashore. But you could still join the company. What if I bought you your own boat? I know of a pretty little schooner that would be just right for you.’
