The Concubine's Daughter

by null

  The Fish considered the appearance of the foreign teacher to be divine intervention in response to her prayers. She did not need to be told of Li’s disappointment at Ben’s absence; she and the girl had become so close that they sometimes thought as one. “Master Ben has not forgotten you. He will come to see you when he thinks it is time.”

  No day passed without yum-cha in the English garden, drinking tea with the Fish, who kept her informed on the household gossip. There was talk among the servants that the master was overseeing the construction of a villa on the beautiful Repulse Bay in Hong Kong, even more splendid and with gardens more magnificent than those of Sky House.

  Concerned about their place in this new residence, Ah-Ho and the other servants kept well clear of Li and the Fish. They bowed deeply on passing Miss Bramble, yet secretly cursed the devil hag from a strange land who would weave silk from straw. The driver, Ah-Geet, had avoided Li since the incident in the compound.

  “They are saying that the red-faced Englishwoman cost a chest of silver to teach the farm brat manners.” The Fish chuckled slyly. “They are afraid the master will not take them when he moves to Hong Kong—that he will find a new head amah, new maids to do the cleaning and washing, new cooks, and a new driver. There is talk that when he returns he will take you and the gwai-paw teacher, and only I and Ah-Kin will be chosen to accompany you. Their suspicion is as bitter as their hearts, but they are sure of nothing, so they will make no move to displease him.”

  Her chuckle faltered as she glanced nervously at the door. “This does not mean that Ah-Ho and her followers will no longer be our enemies. They will hate us more now that you have become the favored one. They will never believe you are not here to share his bed and turn his head, because that is what they would do if they could.”

  “I have given Ah-Ho nothing to be afraid of,” Li protested, “only that I will be taught to read and write in the language of the English. I am not his cheep-see and never will be. How can they think so little of his kindness and so badly of me?”

  “They think this is your intention, and that he intends to make you his mistress, even his tai-tai—his wife.” Li would not let herself think of such a prospect, and nothing the Fish said would convince her that she could ever become Ben Devereaux’s tai-tai.

  The Fish persisted. “They fear you will gain power and take revenge. They will do anything to stop you.” There was a note of alarm in the Fish’s voice. “They blame their change of fortune on you. Word is spread by the sau-hai that you are a fox fairy, that this is why you were condemned to die. They say that the master interfered in this because he is under your spell.”

  The old lady drew a deep breath, her troubled eyes staring at the closed door. “Ah-Ho is cunning and Master Ben is a good and trusting master—he understands that she must have her squeeze. He is very wise for a gwai-lo; he pretends to know only what he is shown of our people and nothing of its dark side.”

  She shook her head. “He has dealt with the triad tongs and played at their dangerous game and is greatly respected by those who cut throats for a living … but he knows little of the sau-hai and little of Ah-Ho’s true power.”

  As she lifted her head, Li saw the same hint of fear that had shown itself for an unguarded moment in the smoky shadows of Joss Street.

  “He thinks he understands enough—he speaks more of our language than he will say—but he knows nothing. The sau-hai are known to consult the black Tao … the shaman of evil magic. They are said to raise a curse upon those they fear but cannot reach.”

  The Fish lowered her voice to a whisper. “You must warn the master of this danger.”

  Li shook her head. “I will not interfere in things that are his to decide. If he asks me, or if a hand is raised against me without reason, I will tell him. I have faced far greater evils than Ah-Ho and the servants of Sky House, and am not without some cunning of my own. There is nothing that can happen to me that can compare with what I have already suffered. You are dear to me, Ah-Paw, but please do not worry yourself for my safety.”

  The Fish could not be comforted. “There are kinds of betrayal and treachery that even you cannot imagine.” She sighed heavily. “I have heard it said that revenge is a banquet best eaten cold. So perhaps we are safe for now. Ah-Ho dare not be seen to raise a hand against you. She will pay others to take the risks. There are many who will kill for a chicken leg and eat it on the grave, others who will steal a child from under the nose of its parents and send it home piece by piece until the price is paid. This is the way of the black society.”

  The Fish suddenly reached for Li’s hand. “Ah-Geet cannot be trusted. Already two mooi-jais from other households have carried his child.” She gripped Li’s hand tighter. “He is a sai-lo, a younger brother of the tong. We must beware of him.”

  Li had said nothing to the Fish of the silent hand at her door, and decided it could serve no purpose to reveal it now.

  CHAPTER 11

  The English Garden

  Under Miss Bramble’s amiable tutelage, Li’s life became a fantasyland of learning. The days began with a brisk walk in the grounds and early breakfast in the English garden, followed by mornings spent learning to speak, read, and write in English; lunch served by the Fish under the lilac tree; more lessons; then afternoons or evenings of general conversation, when Li was encouraged to ask all the questions she wished. Sometimes they listened to Western music on the gramophone in the teacher’s rooms, or discussed a book and the life of its writer. Every moment was a gift to Li-Xia.

  Miss Bramble had acquired two ladies’ bicycles fitted with ample baskets in which to carry sandwiches and flasks of tea. This, she explained, was the preferred mode of travel for an English lady in the countryside. The exercise of cycling, which proved the perfect break from intense studying, sometimes took them on tours of the city outskirts or to picnics on the breezy cliffs of the promontory. Even on these welcome excursions, Li would bring her book bag for an hour or so of quiet reading or a lively debate over the complexities of the English language.

  Late one evening, six months to the day after Li’s schooling had begun, Ben was pleased to receive Winifred Bramble in his study with a half-term report, and to hear nothing but the highest praise for her promising young student. Li had taken readily to the niceties of deportment, showing a natural grace and a promise of elegance. Yet as surely as she had developed manners acceptable in any English drawing room, she just as convincingly displayed an enthusiasm for the raw propensities of the China trade perfectly suited to the waterfront godown. She was, the teacher concluded, a quite exceptional and determined young woman.

  When Ben had confided his intentions to Winifred, she had given him her heartfelt but guarded congratulations. She had seen enough of her employer to know that Li could not be placed in safer or stronger hands than those of Captain Devereaux; and enough of her young pupil to know that she could not be forced to do anything against her will. Miss Bramble did not doubt that Li could make Ben a very suitable companion and eventually become an asset to his company. Nevertheless, the blind stupidity of both East and West when it came to mixed marriages weighed upon Miss Bramble’s heart. This could be a difficult and even a dangerous path. Though she knew that a man of Ben’s stature and courage was unlikely to be deterred by prejudice or superstition, she wondered how he would respond to the insidious menace that could one day threaten those he loved. It was a thought she found difficult to cast aside.

  By the end of twelve months, Li spoke enough English to hold a conversation with Winifred Bramble and her small circle of eloquent acquaintances; to speak coherently with Ben on any subject he chose; to write a passable note in English, Cantonese, Tanka, or her native Hakka; and to read, slowly but thoroughly, the South China Morning Post from front to back, marking any words she did not fully understand.

  Ben visited the house more frequently now, and spoke to her often in the company of her tutor. He brought small gifts, nothing too large or obvious—a sa
ndalwood fan from Formosa, a silk shawl from Shantung, an amber pendant from Hangchow. Li kept these things hidden in her chest, ever more aware of the vigilant forces at work around her. She had even taken the golden guinea from around her neck, determined to do nothing that could inflame the hidden resentment of the other servants. Under Ben’s close protection and in the constant warmth of Miss Bramble’s company, Li found it impossible to consider her own vulnerability, but grew increasingly concerned for both the Fish and Ah-Kin, the gardener. Although she knew the time would come when she must speak of these things to Ben, she hesitated, looking forward instead to the training as a comprador that would take her from Sky House to the shipyard’s office on the Praia. She did not allow the discontent of others to interfere with her studies or the stiff examination that had been set for her, and passed all tests with the highest of marks and a growing self-confidence that left no room for fear of any kind.

  Ben had proposed that Miss Bramble should take a well-deserved holiday at his expense, expressing his hopes that she would return as tutor at large and companion to Li for an indefinite period. She decided to spend Christmas with old friends in Hong Kong and to consider her future in the coming year.

  Li became an increasingly familiar presence in the godowns, aboard the company vessels as they loaded and unloaded their holds, and in the tiny office provided for her in the shipyards. She soon learned that Double Dragon clippers never carried the richest and most dangerous cargo of all—chests of raw opium shipped from the poppy fields of India and sold for their weight in silver bullion. When she asked Indie the reason for this, he would only say, “This is something Ben will tell you in good time.”

  The tall double doors to Ben’s office at the shipyards were at the end of a corridor. Their brass handles were polished every day but seldom used. One afternoon, when he had been away for several weeks, Li entered his office to see if it needed dusting. Instantly, his presence seemed to fill the large, high-ceilinged room, which seemed an extension of his Sky House study—the same rich paneling and ornate desk, its surface covered with the same dark green leather as his chair. Curios and antiques stood on shelves around the walls; a vast glass-fronted display cabinet was filled with ancient porcelain and priceless figures of jade in all its many hues.

  Almost immediately, her eye was drawn to two photographs in identical frames on the wall directly behind the desk. One showed the genial face of a foreign woman, strong, robust, with a mop of unruly gray hair. Beside her, as large and dominant but heavily grained from enlargement, was the face of a brutal-looking Chinese man, his heavy jaw thrust forward in a threatening gesture, his eyes glaring menacingly from beneath a high-domed forehead shaved—including his eyebrows—to the top of the skull. She could not see it but somehow knew he wore a queue, the heavy pigtail of a Boxer. The picture seemed so charged with malice, she found herself stepping back.

  “Ugly bastardo, isn’t he?” The voice of Indie Da Silva caused her to start. “I suppose you must be wondering who they are.” Indie leaned his knuckles on the desk. “You are looking at the two most important people in my partner’s life. He believes, and so do I, that you should always keep your friends close … and your enemies too. Neither must be forgotten.”

  Indie’s voice had lost its customary ease. “The lady’s name is Aggie Gates, the nearest thing he’s ever had to a mother. She is Ben’s greatest friend … he would die for her and she for him.” He paused. “The other one is a Boxer brave, known as Chiang-Wah the Fierce, who is a sworn enemy. Chiang-Wah is a flag bearer for the Yellow Dragon triad, holder of the golden sash. I will say no more of him; Ben will tell you when he must.”

  Buying and selling goods, dispatching and receiving cargoes to and from every corner of China and the Far East, became increasingly absorbing to Li as her command of figures and skill with the abacus grew daily. From her small office overlooking the Double Dragon shipyards, she could smell the sawn timber and hot tar mixed with turpentine, paint, and varnish. The sounds of great ships taking shape on the slip rails became more than a noise to her—the hiss of the steaming press, the planing of wood, and the hammering of mallets as familiar as the chatter of the mui-mui among the groves.

  Quite unexpectedly one day, when she had become accustomed to his absence, Ben filled the doorway of her office with the briefest of knocks and a loud “hello.”

  “Indie tells me you are born to be a comprador. It seems you have fulfilled your promise in every way.” Li had automatically stood up from the ledger she was studying. “Please, do not let me disturb you, but tonight we will put away the tally sheets and manifests to celebrate the success of a prosperous year.

  “You will find some new things in your room. The Fish will help you.” He was gone before she could speak.

  Packages covered Li’s bed in a colorful array. The Fish chuckled with delight as she helped unwrap them. There were gorgeous cheongsams in radiant silks, a silver-backed mirror and comb, and smaller things that drifted over Li’s body like softly colored mist. These, the Fish whispered archly, were to be worn only in the bedchamber and for his eyes only. Li had learned to overlook such harmless giggling by the old one, and instead caught her breath at the beautiful array of garments before her.

  There was a glittering bottle of crystal that filled the air with fragrance.

  Li hesitated. “Such splendor is meant for a woman of great standing,” she murmured, almost to herself.

  “Yes, siu-jeh,” the Fish replied. “It is meant for you. The master asked me for your size many weeks ago, and also for the shape of your feet.”

  “I have never seen such things. Will I not look foolish?”

  “He is very thoughtful for a gwai-lo, and would never allow the woman on his arm to look a fool.”

  Li selected a cheongsam of shimmering turquoise—the form-fitting full-length dress fastened at the shoulder, leaving her arms bare. Slit at each side to an inch above the knee, the skirt allowed Li to walk freely but with short and feminine steps. The high collar fitted her long, slender neck perfectly, keeping her posture proudly erect, especially in the silver shoes she chose, with heels that made her feel taller. The Fish fetched a mirror and makeup for her lips and cheeks and eyes. Li shook her head. “If my face cannot be seen without such colors painted upon it, then I should not wear such fine clothes.”

  At the appointed time, Li knocked softly at the door of the study. Ben was seated at his desk, and rose as she entered. He stood staring in silence. Finally, he said quietly, “I have never seen anyone quite so lovely.” He came from behind the desk, leading her by the hand to the mirror over the fireplace, and gently turning her to face it.

  “You could not look more delightful … except perhaps …” His hands lifted with a sudden flash in the mirror, gently laying a strand of blue sapphires across her throat. “These are from Siam. They are a gift of appreciation for your dedication to the Double Dragon.”

  Li lifted a hand to touch them, cool and heavy against her fingertips. It was a shock to see herself adorned by jewels so far beyond her station in life and indeed beyond her needs, yet their magnificence lit her eyes and caused her to gasp.

  She turned abruptly, dazzled by the moment, to find herself close to him. She would have stepped back, but he bent to kiss her lightly on the forehead. “Their worth is not in their weight or value, but in the life you bring to them.” He let them spill through his fingers, his touch so close to her breast, she was sure he would feel her heartbeat.

  He lifted her hand, folding it warmly in his. “These are a token of my affection and respect.” He put a finger to her lips when she tried to speak, then placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. “At least wear them for tonight, then I shall keep them safely for you, until you are ready to accept them as your own.”

  He released her. “Now we will go to dinner in the finest restaurant Macao has to offer.” As if reading her thoughts, he added, “Miss Bramble will join us as your chaperone, so all will be proper for thos
e who will see us together.”

  CHAPTER 12

  The Bella Vista and the Palace of Fat Crabs

  On the drive to the Bella Vista, which the Fish had assured her was Macao’s oldest and most famous hotel, Li hoped her deep sense of anxiety would be seen as pure excitement. Cushioned between Ben and Miss Bramble on the leather seat of his royal-blue Rolls-Royce, she could scarcely believe this was real.

  As if to reinforce her disquiet, the eye of Ah-Geet appeared in the small mirror above his head. She could not see his face, but the eye alone showed his scorn as clearly as though he had spoken aloud. She looked away, but the eye returned to her whenever it could, as menacing as a raised voice or the threat of a physical blow. His hand came up to adjust the mirror so that both his eyes were upon her. For the flash of a second, the mirror framed his mouth as it mimed the unmistakable word “cheep-see.”

  Ben Devereaux was clearly well known at the Bella Vista. As the car pullled up before the grand entrance, the doors opened and his party was bowed through the elegant lobby and into the instant warmth and glitter of the dining room. Only Li saw the naked malice on the face of the chauffeur as he drove slowly away to park the car. She had met his contempt with a glance of her own, before putting it from her mind in the way she had learned so well. The gloved hands of dark-skinned boys clad in pageboy uniforms of white and gold opened doors of glass to her.

  They passed through a great room lit by the sparkling tiers of magnificent chandeliers and a sea of candlelit tables. A string orchestra played so-ly in the background, as people in rich and fashionable clothes drank wine from crystal goblets and ate from silver plates. Opulence spun about Li in a glittering wheel of purest fantasy. She was silently thankful that Miss Bramble had prepared her for such an occasion, down to the smallest detail.