He wrote a reply. “Prince Kung, I cannot accept this position for I have failed you. I am responsible for what happened with Horatio and Osborn. I ask that I serve a punishment instead.”
It was two in the morning several days later. He had worked late and hoped Ayaou would be sleeping, but she wasn’t. Once he was under the blanket, she rolled over and pressed against him and he discovered she was naked.
“Ayaou, I don’t feel like making love,” he said. “Prince Kung has not responded to my letter. It is all I can think about.”
Ayaou would not take no for an answer, so he surrendered. After they finished making love, she wrapped her arms around him.
He ran a hand down one of her long, slender legs and marveled at how smooth she felt compared to his sandpaper skin.
“The prince has not replied for a reason,” she said. “Accepting the position of Inspector General is your punishment.” He felt her warm breath on his neck as she whispered in his ear. The silky sound of her voice excited him. He shivered. “It is your responsibility to clear up the mess that Horatio and Osborn made? Would you trust anyone else?”
She made sense, which endeared Robert to her even more, but he still had doubts and was racked with regrets. “I’d rather be kissing you,” he said. “I have considered quitting. I am sure the British would take me back as an interpreter. No foreigner knows the Chinese as well as I do. They would assign me to one of the consulates. Maybe Ningpo again or we could stay in Shanghai. I would probably be in charge. With luck, maybe even Hong Kong. We would have to give up this house and the servants. We’d still have Guan-jiah though.”
“We cannot go back,” she said. “Your fate has been decided. You are to serve China. Running away will only make things worse.”
“But we would always be together,” he said, knowing that he had already lost to her wisdom.
“When China is at war again with the foreign devils, you would feel the blame and our love would suffer.”
With regret, Robert saw that there was no turning back to that simpler time in Ningpo. An old ache appeared deep inside where his broken heart from the loss of Shao-mei had gone into hiding. He looked around expecting to see her in the room watching.
“What is it, Robert?” Ayaou asked.
“Nothing.” He rolled over and kissed her while his hands became busy.
To Robert’s surprise, Osborn came to see him in Shanghai, and the bruises that he had inflicted on Osborn’s face in Peking were still visible.
He met the man in his first floor study, a room furnished with a sturdy teak desk and chairs. One wall was lined with shelves filled with books and scrolls, and a Turkish wool carpet covered half the floor, while a latticed window opened on a lush garden filled with trees, flowering plants and a stand of bamboo.
He had Guan-jiah and two large servants stay in the room standing in the shadows near the door.
“Don’t accept the position of Inspector General,” Osborn said. “If you do, I’ll spread word when I return to Britain that you were behind a conspiracy to oust Horatio and take his job. I’ll make people believe that you long desired his position and planned his downfall.” Osborn’s smile was smug. “This is the only way for you to avoid being considered a traitor. I will ruin your reputation.”
Robert was furious but hid his emotions behind an inscrutable mask he’d spent years perfecting. He was tempted to have Guan-jiah and the servants beat the man with the stout sticks they held.
“I appreciate your concern,” he replied. “However, others have threatened me before and did not succeed. You can be assured that if you hadn’t come to see me, I would have resigned before accepting the position.”
Robert knew that wasn’t true, but he said it anyway. Ayaou had already convinced him he couldn’t quit. “Since you have seen fit to come here and threaten me, I have changed my mind, and I thank you for that. By the way, how is your nose?”
Osborn sputtered his indignation. He took a step forward, his face full of purple anger. His fists started to come up, but Guan-jiah and the two servants grabbed Osborn from behind and escorted him from the house.
It was ironic that Osborn had stiffened his resolve. He refused to allow Horatio or anyone like him to use China for their personal benefit. Horatio’s younger brother William had been right all those years ago, when he had warned Robert about his brother. If Robert had listened, he would never have recommended Horatio as China’s agent in Europe.
He wasn’t concerned about the Prime Minister or the Queen believing that he was a traitor. Robert had friends working in the British legation. He knew the governor of Hong Kong. He had helped save the life of Harry Parkes, and had earned respect from James Bruce, the 8th Earl of Elgin.
That night in bed, Robert said, “Ayaou, we should find a cellar like the one in Ward’s Shanghai house where we first made love and have a honeymoon.”
“What is a honeymoon?”
Robert laughed and kissed her. For some reason, he felt like an adolescent again. He explained.
She sat up. “I have a surprise.” She left the bed and started to rummage in the wardrobe. When she turned around, there was a mischievous smile on her face. She had her hands behind her back as if she were hiding something. “Do you know where the root cellar is?”
He nodded.
She said, “Wait five minutes then go there.”
“Ayaou, what are you doing?” he asked, as she hurried from the room. “It’s late.” Since she was gone, his words faded. He had no choice but to get dressed and follow.
A few minutes later in the root cellar, he discovered baskets of yams and bags of rice. Manure clung to the produce. It looked and smelled like his memories of their first sexual encounter.
The low ceiling sloped toward the far end of the cellar where a dim light leaked around a stack of burlap bags filled with rice. The place reminded him of that night. It was like déjà vu. He remembered the rat that had run across his boot. Would there be a rat too?
Smiling, he walked the length of the root cellar and had to get down on all fours to squeeze around the fifty-pound bags of rice and into the narrow space beyond.
Once Robert crawled past the rice, light brushed away the gloom. He saw Ayaou sitting against a wall with her knees pulled to her chest. She looked just like she had eight years ago. She was even dressed in the same dancing clothes. She had lost weight since having Herbert, and the clothes fit. The top of her head was inches from the close ceiling. She turned the lantern to its softest illumination and put the light on top of a small barrel nestled in the corner behind her.
“Welcome to my secret place—this sanctuary of our love. This is where I have been going when I want to be alone and remember.”
“I thought you burned those clothes after the way I treated you in Canton.”
“How could I do that, Robert Hart?” she said. “After all, I know why you are here.”
He didn’t know what to say. He shifted around uncomfortably in the tight space until he faced her.
“I believe you are here to make me your concubine,” she said.
“I’m not here to cause you unhappiness.” He remembered his words from that night, but he wasn’t nervous this time. If she wanted to relive their first moments together, he was willing to take that journey with her. “It is too bad your father has to sell you. You must hate it.”
“I do not hate it,” she replied, shaking her head. “My father hates what he does to feed his family. He has to sell us. He is not the only man in the village who does that. He has to treat us like hens and fish in the market. He cannot afford to be soft hearted.”
Instead of seeing tears in her eyes like before, Robert detected a sexual hunger, and he felt the same way. “But he’s selling you to a stranger.”
“This time my master will not be a stranger.” There wasn’t any uncertainly in her eyes. She knew what she was doing.
“How much will your price be?”
“I do not know. My fath
er said I am no beauty. My skin is too dark, and I am too thin. My chest is a washboard.” She lifted a foot. “My feet were never bound. I do not have a pale moon face, and that is the requirement for selling at a high price to a Chinese man.”
Their legs touched and the excitement was more than he could handle. He didn’t know how much longer he could play this game.
“There is an empty rice bag in the corner behind you,” she said. “Hang it in the opening so the light does not leak out.”
He twisted around to do it.
“Do you think that you would like to be my master?” she asked.
Robert reached for one of her hands and held it between both of his. Her flesh was hot. They both knew exactly what they wanted.
“My father will decide soon to which man I will be sold. Can you afford my price?”
He had said ‘no’ in 1855. This time his answer was different. “Yes, because I am the Inspector General of China’s Customs Service. I work for an emperor. No one will beat my price for the woman I want.”
“I like that,” she said.
“I will never abandon you like you once feared.”
“I know that now,” she said. “You are a good man. No Chinese man or any other foreign devil would promise that and mean it. I am lucky you found me.”
He couldn’t wait any longer. The desire was spreading through him like hot lava, and he pulled her closer.
“Hurry,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he replied.
She leaned away from him. “I am not sure I will like that.” She pouted, and her lips looked inviting. “My father had me practice kissing by sucking a carrot.”
“A carrot.” He wanted to laugh. He remembered this conversation.
“Yes. He said barbarians liked it.”
“What did he mean?” He was ready to burst. He hadn’t wanted her this bad in years.
“He said the carrot is the barbarian’s tongue.”
“I see. So, you didn’t like it.”
“No, my father ruined my appetite for carrots for good.”
“That’s a pity.”
“How are you going to kiss me?”
“I’ll show you.”
“Do I have to suck?”
“You don’t have to do anything.”
“That will be nice,” she said.
He kissed her nose, her cheeks, her ears and her neck where he lingered. Then he took her face between both hands, held her, and kissed her warm, moist lips. That kiss was nothing like the first time. It was better.
“I want more, Robert Hart. I have always wanted more.”
Robert slipped his tongue into her mouth. “Kiss me back,” he said.
She became the aggressor, and they peeled off her thin layers of silk together.
When he started to undo the buttons on his shirt, she slapped his hands away. “I will do that,” she said, and he watched the hunger in her eyes explode as she unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hands inside to explore his chest and back.
He groaned, and said, “This is torture. I can’t hold myself much longer.”
Her laughter sounded like chimes. “So much hair,” she said, as she ran her fingers through it. “It no longer feels strange like it did then.” She threw herself on top of him pushing him onto his back then pressed her lips against his.
His hands explored her muscular, naked legs and ended on her firm bottom. There wasn’t much room, but he managed to pull off his shirt and crawl out of his pants and for an instant, their lips parted.
“Touch me everywhere.” Her voice was husky and full of experienced lust. “I like the way it feels when you do that.”
They rolled over until she was on the bottom, and their naked bodies mingled. He kissed her breasts and ran his tongue around her nipples, and she tasted salty.
“Now,” she said, “make me yours again.”
The sexual heat flooded through him. He thrust into her while grunting like a stallion. After she gasped and her body convulsed, he rolled her over and entered her from the rear. He took hold of her hips and pulled her into him. After several deep thrusts, it was over.
Sweaty and exhausted, they slept in each other’s arms. This time when he awoke, she was still there and there was a warm quilted blanket covering them against the chill.
The floor creaked above their heads and Robert heard a small voice say,” Ba Ba.” It was Anna looking for him.
Before Horatio left China, he also came to see Robert. They met alone in the same study.
“I thought I could trust you,” Horatio said. “That’s why I recommended that you fill my job while I was recovering from the knife wounds. Why did you turn the Dynasty against me?”
“You will never understand,” Robert replied. “I didn’t sneak in and plot to replace you. Your arrogance did that. You speak excellent Mandarin but you do not understand the Chinese. If I were still in Canton in my old position, things would have turned out worse. Osborn would have lost his head and you might have been executed. There would have been another war more devastating than the two Opium Wars.”
Horatio reached in his jacket and pulled out a Bible. “You are not only a traitor, but you are a fool.” He opened his Bible to a page marked with a red ribbon. “Paul said that part of our love of brethren includes restoring one who is overtaken in a trespass. You have done me wrong, Hart.” He looked at the Bible and read. “Brethren, if a man is overtaken in any trespass, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Look to yourself, lest you too be tempted.”
He closed the Bible. “I’m returning to England. I will do so in a spirit of gentleness. I will pray for your soul, so you might walk with God instead of cavorting with these Chinese devils.” Horatio left.
Robert realized that Horatio’s words and thoughts were examples of how the foreign powers thought and why they were raping China with opium and modern weapons. The people of China deserved better. He resolved to be the man to set things right or die trying. Thinking about the years ahead was exhausting. How many more challenges would there be?
Chapter 50
Now that he was inspector general he had to fix Horatio’s mess, and one challenge to overcome was the Yamen’s memories of Horatio’s bully tactics. Fortunately, Robert understood the virtue of patience.
His first task was to write letters to his commissioners in China’s major ports.
“We are all in China’s service. Information is important if we are to do our jobs efficiently, which means we must stay on top of national events and politics in every province. I’m directing you to keep an eye and an ear open in your regions. To do that, you must cultivate friendships among the Chinese people.”
He remembered his first visit to a tea and bathhouse in Ningpo. At the time, he had only been with Shao-mei and Ayaou for a few months. Ayaou caught him in the kitchen one morning bathing with a small cloth in a large bucket that barely fit his feet.
“I have watched you do this before, Robert,” she had said, as she stood in the kitchen doorway. “I kept my mouth shut, because I thought this is what you wanted. Why not go to the bathhouse? It costs the price of three eggs, and the water is clean and hot.”
That was the day he discovered China had bathhouses.
Ayaou had guided him there. Then he stood in a long line waiting to get in. The gatekeeper had been a burly, older woman with the arms of a wrestler and stumps for legs. She had demanded that he take off his clothes and hand them to her for cleaning.
It had been quite an experience. It hadn’t felt humorous at the time, but now he chuckled at the memories before dipping the pen into the puddle of ink to continue the letter.
“To gather this vital information properly, I suggest you spend time cultivating friendships with the Chinese in local teahouses, which are fountains of information when one is a master in the art of conversation. I also expect that you will find the nearest bathhouse and take a public bath
with the Chinese once a week.
“We have all talked about how to do this, so I am confident you will succeed with this task without hesitation.
“Discover what is going on and how people feel about current events and send a report to me once a month. Take care to send these reports with trusted couriers since we do not want this information falling into the wrong hands.”
Robert had learned the art of conversation while living with Ayaou and Shao-mei in Ningpo. While hiring his people, he had taught his men the same methods. Soon, he planned to launch a Chinese language school for his foreign employees.
During those long months when he had traveled extensively through China hiring and firing people while setting up offices in all the major trading ports, he had taken each of his people to a teahouse. He had them observe and learn how to talk to the Chinese from the lowest peasant to the wealthiest merchant. The most important skill was to learn how to listen and interpret meaning. The challenge was to ask simple, short questions that resulted in long revealing answers.
It took several months before regular reports started to arrive from his men, and what he discovered was not good. The Dynasty was weak and the provinces troubled.
The problem was that the central government was limited. All of the high provincial officials, who could be removed at any time at the pleasure of the emperor, were appointed from Peking.
However, once appointed, the governors of provinces and cities had the power of kings, which meant that Peking had little control over anything, even taxation. Robert had learned how difficult that was when he had confronted Kuan-wen, the governor-general of Hankow.
Since then, he had learned that the best man wasn’t always chosen for a high-ranking position. The Manchu distrusted the Han Chinese and many times when a Han was the best man for the job, he was passed-over for a Manchu, who was usually corrupt, incompetent or both.
Silence was the best advice for a Han to follow when a Manchu official could have him beheaded or assassinated for protesting or criticizing too much. It was safer for a Han Chinese to keep his lips sealed even if his superior was heading blindly for disaster.
My Splendid Concubine Page 58
