The Way of the Tigress 1-4

by Jade Lee - The Way of the Tigress 1-4

  "Don't think you can hide from me. I am most determined when my children's welfare is at stake. Why would you go out like that? What happened to your shoes?"

  Charlotte reached out a slender arm to draw her washbowl and pitcher behind the screen. It was awkward. She had to place the bowl on the floor and squat down to wet the cloth. But then again, squatting was exactly what she needed to do if she wished to cleanse away every memory of what had happened.

  "Make sure to clean your feet well, Charlotte," her mother called. "An infection of the toes can be quite hideous."

  Charlotte felt a tear splash her arm. When had she started crying? She pressed her lips tight to hold them in, but it didn't work. She squeezed her eyes shut and vigorously scrubbed her face. It didn't help.

  "And how is it that your father brought you home? He was supposed to be in Canton for another two days. At least, I think he was. He comes and goes so frequently these days."

  The sobs would not be contained. Charlotte had no strength left in her legs, so she sat on the floor. She tried to get herself to stop. She told herself that she had to get dressed, that she couldn't just sit here naked. But in the end, all she managed was to pull on her stockings and drawers while her chest jerked and her breath came in short gasps.

  "Are you quite dressed yet, Charlotte? You cannot avoid me, you know. I am not moving from this spot. Char?"

  Then it happened. Her mother came around the screen. Charlotte tried to hide. She turned her back to her parent, fumbled with her shift. But the fabric was crumpled, incorrectly starched by the stupid maid, and the more she tried to smooth it out, the worse it became. The worse everything became as the sobs began to choke her.

  "Charlotte? My heavens! Really, dear, get up off the floor. Oh my. Oh... dear." Her mother reached around and gently removed the shift from Charlotte's knotted fingers. "Raise your arms, dear."

  Charlotte obeyed. What else could she do? She had to get dressed. The fabric settled down over her body, hot and heavy, like a layer of scratchy wool pulled over her soul. And yet it was comforting, somehow, as was her mother's fussing.

  "Come out of there, Charlotte." The words were impatient, but also familiar. So she obeyed, stiffening her wobbly legs and dragging a hand across her wet cheeks. Then she was in her mother's arms, blubbering like the smallest child. She was loud and messy and completely out of control while her mother patted her back.

  Thump. Thump. Thump. The steady rhythm of a mother. Thump. Thump. Thump.

  And in time, her sobs eased.

  "Well," her mother finally said, "that was quite a watershed."

  Charlotte said nothing. How could she? Then they both heard William's heavy footfalls in the hallway.

  "It's done!" he bellowed through the door. "We have the kite together, Charlotte! We can go to the park now. Charlotte!"

  Charlotte sighed, the sound released from deep within her belly. William would not be put off. "Nanny is ill?" she asked.

  "Nanny is overpaid for what little work she does."

  Charlotte sighed. Her mother was being unfair. Nanny worked as hard as any of them. And she loved William. It was just that...

  "Charlotte! Where are you? Charlotte?"

  Heavy bangs sounded against the bedroom door. They had less than a second before the handle would turn and—

  "Don't you dare open that door, William Christopher!" her mother snapped. "Charlotte is not dressed yet."

  "But—"

  "No, young man! You will go down to the library and wait until we are there."

  "But, Charlotte—"

  "Go!"

  And miracle of miracles, William obeyed. They heard him stomp all the way down the hallway in a manner very much like his father.

  "Mama," whispered Charlotte. "Father is in the library."

  "I know," her mother answered, her voice light with mischief. "Perhaps they will share a spot of brandy and discuss horses." Then she looked down at her daughter just as Charlotte looked up. Then they both descended into giggles. It was ridiculous giggling, after such a scene and over the stupidest reason. And yet, it was a moment of perfect accord between them such as had not happened in years. But then that too faded, and Charlotte's gaze slid away from her mother.

  "You have gotten yourself into a pickle, haven't you?"

  Charlotte didn't answer. She honestly didn't know.

  Her mother shook her head. "I'll never understand you, Charlotte. Why haven't you chosen some man and gotten married? It's well past time, you know. You're just rotting here at the house."

  Charlotte stared, her body and soul pulling back from her mother. But one look at her parent's face, and she knew she would have to answer. Mother had a determined look about her. "W-well," she stammered as she pushed away thoughts of Ken Jin. "There is William to consider."

  "Nonsense! We have Nanny. She's young and healthy—except for her unfortunate lip—so we know she'll never marry and leave us. Besides, they get along famously." Mama's expression softened at Charlotte's stricken expression, but her words were still clear. "Of course, William loves you here, but that hardly means you have to give up your life for him."

  Charlotte blinked, her thoughts whirling. "I do quite a lot of work here, Mama. The menus, the staff—"

  "Of course you do, dear. And it was very wrong of me to rely so heavily upon you. But I managed when you were younger, you know. I can manage again." Her mother grasped Charlotte's hands, pulling them tight to her heart. "So tell me the truth, dear. What is the real reason you have never married?"

  How to answer? She'd wondered, of course. Every time one of her friends married, she thought about when she would take the same trip down the aisle. But the men she knew never interested her. They all seemed like younger versions of her father or... what?

  Incompetent. They were, to a man, incapable of offering the least assistance with her life. She could never see her turning to one of them for help. They were too involved in their own pursuits, be it money or pleasure. She couldn't imagine asking them about the staff or a medical complaint, much less receiving help when any of her family became too difficult. She couldn't see turning to one of them to discuss religion or energy or any of the new ideas that had been bursting through her mind these days. No, the person she looked to for all these things was...

  Ken Jin. From the moment he had entered the house with Charlotte's drunken father sprawled across his shoulders, Charlotte had known he was a man who accomplished things. He did it quietly, with an unobtrusive skill that she found all the more amazing for its silence.

  Soon after he joined the household, the household supplies began to arrive smoothly. A small thing, but it made her management of the staff ten times easier. Next, her father started leaving the house for entertainment instead of bringing his parties home. And she never saw the opium traders again. Money began to flow, which meant she could hire more staff. And best of all, Ken Jin found Nanny, a truly wonderful girl in her early twenties, cursed with a hairlip but with infinite patience and skill when it came to handling William.

  So the truth was, no man she ever met could measure up to Ken Jin. No man would be as capable, as tender, as perfect as... the man who had just flatly refused to marry her. To her shame, her lip began to tremble and once again she was sobbing in her mother's arms.

  "Oh dear," her mother murmured. Then she kept repeating it for some time until Charlotte once again got a hold of herself. Then mother and daughter together straightened their clothing and patted their cheeks dry. "Don't worry, dear," added Mama as she tugged at her skirt. "Everything will be better in England."

  Charlotte frowned. "England?"

  Mama nodded and folded her hands serenely before her. "Yes, dear. England. You see, Father's brother has died."

  Charlotte jerked backward. Of all the things she had expected her mother to say, this was the absolute last. "Uncle Phillip, Baron Wodesley? That Uncle Phillip? He's gone?" She had never met the man, and yet it felt unsurprising that someone had di
ed this day.

  "The letter arrived several days ago. Your father went to Canton to see about closing his affairs there."

  Charlotte shied away from considering exactly which affairs he was closing. She focused instead on the news itself. "Several days ago? But I didn't know. You never said."

  "No one knows except your father and me, and now you. We didn't want to upset William. And you know how superstitious the Chinese are about death. We can't let the servants know or they'll all quit. A house surrounded by death, and all that nonsense."

  Charlotte blinked. "But Uncle Phillip was a baron. That means—"

  "Yes, your father's inherited the title. He's a baron now. I'm a baroness." She leaned forward to touch her forehead to her daughter's. "And you, my dear, are the daughter of a baron."

  Charlotte waited a moment. She allowed herself precious seconds to enjoy her mother's tender gesture, but eventually the woman pulled away. Meanwhile, Charlotte had to ask, she needed to know what the future would bring. "What does it all mean, Mama?"

  "It means, my dear, that we must return to England. We can finally leave this heathen place and get you a real English husband. None of these foreign transplants, my dear, but a real, honest-to-goodness English gentleman—someone who's never heard of a rickshaw or seen chopsticks."

  Charlotte blinked, her thoughts whirling. "But I like rickshaws and chopsticks."

  Her mother patted her cheek. "Yes, I know. And that is all my fault for letting you take on so much. I should have insisted on returning home long ago. But everything will right itself once we're back on English soil, you'll see."

  "But—"

  "Elizabeth!" It was Father's bellow. William must have run through all of the man's patience.

  "Tch," her mother said, rolling her eyes. "He must learn not to do that. He's a baron now." Then she pushed up from her seat on the bed. "Finish getting dressed, Charlotte. Fix your stockings, then take William to the park. You know he can't wait much longer."

  "I know, Mama."

  "There will be a great deal more to discuss tonight, but for now—"

  "Elizabeth!" Another of Father's bellows.

  "I must rescue your father. Hurry now. I'll make sure the carriage is waiting." Then she was gone, leaving Charlotte to mind her tasks.

  She cleaned her face, dressed, and then took William to the park. She helped her brother raise his dragon kite. She clapped when he got the streaming ribbons into the air. She even held it for him when he became bored and went off to play in the dirt. She did all the things she normally did as if nothing extraordinary had happened today. As if her entire world hadn't changed this morning only to return to exactly how it was by afternoon. How could the world feel completely disorienting and yet painfully familiar at the same time?

  She didn't know and she couldn't think, so she didn't. She simply played with William as usual. She even planned next week's meals in her head. Then, when William grew hungry, she packed him back into the carriage and headed home.

  He complained on the drive, just as he always did. Charlotte nodded her head and pretended to listen, just as she always did. Then she opened the carriage door and let him run ahead of her as they both always did. Until he stopped dead in the center of the front door, a strange frown on his face.

  Charlotte speeded up, wondering what could possibly go wrong now. Then she reached the step and stopped as well. Looking around her brother's shoulder, she saw her trunk in the center of the hall, right in front of her parents.

  "Father?" she asked, gently prodding William into the house.

  "Say your good-byes," he answered coldly. "You're going to the convent."

  Charlotte blinked, sure she could not have heard correctly. But one look at her mother's tearstained face, and she knew it was true. Her next words were out of her mouth before she could think. "You promised," she hissed. "You swore everything would be like it was."

  "I most certainly did not!" he returned, his voice even harsher than before. "How could anything be the same after what you did? I promised to take care of you, and I am." He motioned to a pair of footmen, who deftly lifted her portmanteau over everyone's head and carried it out to the carriage. "Your mother thinks this is best," he added sternly.

  "This isn't Mother!" Charlotte cried. "This is you, Father, unable to—"

  "She feels a good dose of God will straighten you out." He shrugged. "It could hardly hurt."

  "Of all the hypocritical—"

  "You are leaving, Charlotte, and let that be the end of it."

  And right then, William began to understand what was happening. He had been staring wide-eyed in the middle of the hall, unable to follow the conversation. But his father's words were clear enough for even him. "Leaving?" he cried, his voice rising in pitch until it became a wail. "Noooooo!"

  "Stop it!" Father roared, as if yelling at the boy had ever helped anything. "Stop it this instant!"

  "Thomas!" cut in Mama. "You can't just scream at him. He doesn't understand."

  "Nooooooooo!" William threw himself onto Charlotte and tried to climb up into her arms, but his size and weight were too much for her and she stumbled backward. She nearly tripped over the door frame, but managed to steady herself on the front railing.

  Her father continued to bellow. "Cease this instant! You are a young man now! A future baron!"

  "William, dear. William, come upstairs," called Nanny from the top of the stairs. "Nanny has new game for you to play."

  "Nooooooo!" The boy didn't even know what he was protesting anymore. His sobs were loud, his distress overwhelming, especially as Father reached over and grabbed him. William screamed, of course. He hit and kicked and fell down in a proper tantrum, but Father was still larger, especially with the assistance of the two returning footmen. Soon, William was dragged into the house while Mother hovered helplessly on the side.

  "Do be careful!" she fluttered. "He's still a boy. He doesn't underst—"

  The door slammed, with Charlotte on the outside.

  * * *

  "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been eight days since my last confession." Charlotte frowned. Had it been so short a time? Barely more than a week for her whole life to change. And yet, she had been anxious for something to happen for so long now.

  "And what is the nature of your sin?" Father Peter pressed when she remained silent.

  "Yesterday, I lay with a man who was not my husband." How few words to encompass so much.

  "Fornication is a grave—"

  "We didn't—I mean, I'm still a virgin," she rushed to add. Then she stopped. Why exactly was that so important?

  "That is excellent news," he intoned.

  She frowned. "Why?" Father Peter remained silent, but she could feel his confusion. "I mean, why does it make a difference? If we've done everything else, why would the simple act of... Well, why does it matter?"

  "That is an interesting question—"

  "We've done everything, Father, and it was wonderful. He has this strange philosophy about energy. Yin and yang and qi. I don't—"

  "That is a heathen religion." The priest's voice was hard.

  Charlotte hadn't expected anything different, but she was still surprised by the hatred in his tone. She paused, then turned to the window and wished she could see better in the darkness.

  "So you know about it?"

  "I know that the devil has many forms of deception, of luring the unwary into the gravest of sins."

  "But it wasn't the devil, Father. I even went to Heaven."

  The priest released a snort. "I'm sure the experience felt most interesting."

  She shook her head. "More than interesting, Father. It was spiritual. Holy."

  "Only the Church is holy. Only God—"

  "But I was there in Heaven." Her voice was gaining in volume. Why wouldn't he understand? "My spirit went up there, and I saw William."

  "Your brother was with you?" Alarm vibrated through his voice.

  "No, no, I saw
William's spirit. Father, he was normal and beautiful and so perfect."

  Father Peter sighed. The sound of his disappointment filled the small chamber. "Opium dreams cannot be—"

  "There was no opium, Father. Some incense to clear the air, but—"

  Father Peter cleared his throat. "Charlotte, you have been deceived. Opium was in the smoke. Try to think clearly, child. Our souls go to Heaven through Jesus Christ our savior, and only through—"

  Her hands clenched in her lap. "It was real."

  "Satan's deceptions are real, Charlotte."

  "He is not the devil!" She knew she was losing control, but she couldn't help herself.

  "Oh, Charlotte, it is good that you have come to me." His voice modulated softer, more filled with comfort. "I can see now that you are deep in the clutches of Lucifer. Tell me who this instrument of Satan is. Tell me who leads you astray."

  She felt her eyes burn with tears, but she would not shed them. Charlotte had shed too many on her tiny cot last night. "He's not the devil just because he doesn't worship as we do."

  "Who is it, Charlotte?"

  "I'm not going to tell you," she snapped, "because he isn't evil."

  "You must!" the priest ordered. "I cannot allow a lost soul to wander further into the wild. I must rescue you both, return you both to God's holy embrace. Do not leave a man to suffer in—"

  "Stop it!" she cried. Father Peter's impassioned speeches were well known throughout Shanghai. He could fire the blood, stir the soul, and have a person believing anything just by the power of his voice. Charlotte didn't want that. She didn't want to believe that everything she'd done with Ken Jin was a devil's trap. "It's not true!" she cried. "It's just not true."

  Father Peter fell silent. She knew the trick. Indeed, she'd seen it often enough when she'd accompanied her mother and the good Father on his clerical rounds. He waited in silence for the petitioner to see the error of his own ways. Eventually, guilt forced whomever into a confession. Rather than do that, Charlotte turned her thoughts a different direction. "Is it a sin to love, Father?"