My Splendid Concubine

by Lofthouse, Lloyd

  With concern in his eyes, Prince Kung put a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “Do not act hastily, my friend. Give this a lot of thought. You have everything to lose and nothing to gain from marrying this boat-girl.”

  Oh, but he did, Robert thought, trying hard to keep his lips sealed. It would bring great happiness to the woman he loved, and his children would not be bastards in the eyes of the world.

  It was after midnight when Robert arrived home. When he walked into the bedroom, Ayaou was reading, but she carefully marked the page and put the book of poems on a side table. He could tell that she was naked under the silk sheet. He’d told her years before that he did not like her sleeping with clothes on.

  He sat beside her and took one of her hands between his. “Prince Kung wants me to marry a Manchu princess,” he said, fearing the worst. “But what they think doesn’t matter, Ayaou.” The sheet slipped from her shoulders to gather on her lap revealing her full breasts, and his eyes focused on her nipples.

  The words slipped from his tongue. “Marry me, Ayaou. We will have the wedding soon. I want to do it before the baby is born.”

  She showed no excitement. Instead, her eyes filled with sadness and the muscles in her face sagged. She slipped from under the sheet, put on a shirt and sat beside him. “If you marry me, you will never go beyond the position you now hold as Inspector General. Your future will be frozen. More importantly, you will make Prince Kung and even her majesty, the empress, lose face with your rejection of their offer. They could become your enemies waiting for the right moment to lower the blade on your neck as you did for Ward.”

  “You are so dramatic, Ayaou. It could never be that bad. I am perfectly happy with my position as Inspector General. My dreams are more than fulfilled, and I have no goals to become anything else. If losing face worries you, I want you to know that I can handle that. Therefore, when I return in a few days from a brief inspection trip to Tientsin, we will marry. Guan-jiah has arranged everything.”

  Ayaou did not reply, and she was weeping. In silence, tears spilled from her eyes dripping from her chin. A moment later, she said yes. Her voice was so low he had to strain to hear her, and he wasn’t sure if her tears were of happiness or from worry.

  “Get that shirt off, Ayaou, and get back in bed.”

  A lazy evening breeze drifted through an open window near the far end of the room. Robert’s hands explored the familiar shapes of her body. He did not mind that she was huge with the baby. Touching her excited him. He couldn’t recall a moment when he’d been happier. He believed he had finally defeated the moral trappings he’d carried from Ireland.

  She whispered. “Robert.” She rolled over with a serious look on her face. “Can you see yourself one day in your mansion with a full banquet table and no guests? Will you still tell me that you love me then?”

  “Yes. Always.” He kissed a favorite spot on her neck below one ear. “I’ll keep telling you how much I love you until you get sick of hearing the words, then I will say them some more. Over the last decade, all my adolescent fantasies about love came true, even with the angry times.

  “When Shao-mei died,” he said, “I thought my ability to love had died with her, but I was wrong. That passion came back to life because of you. Nothing is left for any other woman, not even Princess Nee-Nee and I refuse to marry her.”

  He stared at her watermelon belly then lifted her chin, kissed the tip of her nose and saw that her eyes were still swimming with tears.

  “I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for you. We have shared both good and bad. How can I leave you in the shadows? Because of you and Shao-mei, I learned how to think like a Chinese but found love that most Irishmen only dream of. If I had stayed in Ireland, I would have never experienced the passion I have had with you. That has made all the difference, and I do not want to be with another woman.”

  “I wish Shao-mei were here,” Ayaou said. Using the back of one hand, she wiped away the tears. “I would like to share this night with her.”

  “She has never left us, Ayaou. Death makes no difference. She will always be part of our lives.”

  That night, they sent up rockets and set off endless firecrackers. They hardly slept.

  Chapter 61

  In early January 1865, Robert was in the northern port of Tientsin eighty miles from Peking. The city was built on flat, swampy land along the Peihao River thirty-seven miles from the Bohai Gulf. The temperature was a few degrees above freezing, and it was raining. A few degrees lower and the rain would turn to sleet, then snow. The only place to be on a day like this was indoors near a hot stove.

  There had been a discrepancy about the number of imports and exports flowing through the city. The time it was taking to solve this problem with the city’s governor-general was making Robert nervous. He realized that the baby was due any day, and he wanted to arrive home in time to marry Ayaou before the birth.

  The city’s governor-general was probably keeping some of the revenue. Although Robert doubted it, the discrepancy could have been an honest bookkeeping mistake. The reason didn’t matter. If they had to collect some of the import and export taxes from the city’s governor-general instead of the merchants, they would.

  “Inspector General.” said Cooper, the commissioner of the Tientsin Customs House, as he entered the office. A wool knit cap with earflaps covered his baldhead. The wound in his thigh had healed and left a scar.

  “Your people did a fine job again, Cooper,” Robert said. “I want you to send an unofficial note to the city’s governor-general and let him know his people are making mistakes. Use the proper language and remind him how much he owes the treasury. He’s often arrogant so gently cause a little loss of face.”

  “I’m not here to talk about import or export taxes,” Cooper said. “Guan-jiah just arrived from Peking and is in the outer room.”

  “In this weather!” Robert said, then his voice faltered when he saw the serious expression on Cooper’s face. “What is it?” He was alarmed. Something must have happened.

  “He says he has to speak to you in person. I think you should see him.”

  His stomach turned queasy, and he worried. Could one of the children have been injured or even worse? Not wanting to wait, he left Cooper’s office and walked into the main room where Guan-jiah stood by the half-open door.

  The eunuch’s robe was soaked and covered in frost. He looked like he was in shock and his gentle features were twisted into knots. Before the door slammed shut cutting off the cold, Robert saw the coach that had brought him. The horses were lathered and looked exhausted.

  The eunuch’s expression was worse than the time the Taipings took Ayaou and the children. A pit opened inside Robert’s stomach. He feared the worst and dreaded what he was about to hear. When Guan-jiah looked like this, it was never good.

  “Master—” The moment he saw Robert, Guan-jiah started to cry. “It is Ayaou—it is Ayaou!” He sobbed, and then started to shoot phrases at Robert between gulps of air. “She does not want me to bother you with bad news—she has delivered a boy. She named the baby as you wished. Arthur is very healthy and weighs more than Herbert when he was born—”

  Work had stopped. Everyone was watching the eunuch.

  Robert became more alarmed because this behavior was totally unlike Guan-jiah, who was always calm, organized and courageous even during the worst of times. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  As if shocked back into his senses, Guan-jiah said, “Something broke—” He paused to suck air. “The Mistress lost blood. It is terrible! The bleeding will not stop. Everyone was afraid. The doctor too.” His face dissolved into a portrait of agony and the tears streamed.

  Darkness descended over Robert’s vision as if he were wearing blinders. All he saw was the eunuch. He took three steps, grabbed Guan-jiah by the collar of his wool cape and pulled his servant toward him wanting to squeeze the words out faster.

  “Master, Master!” Guan-jiah was trembling. “I am not fini
shed.”

  Robert let go and stepped back. There was a buzzing in his ears. “Is she alive or dead?” he asked, feeling numb, while struggling to remain calm. He feared the answer, and his heart was pounding in anticipation.

  Guan-jiah’s trembling stopped. His breathing slowed. “She is dying,” he said.

  Robert guts felt as if they had turned inside out and he doubled over. His expression must have frightened Guan-jiah, because the eunuch stepped back.

  With an effort, Robert straightened. His voice was filled with pain. “Did you go—to the foreign doctor—from the British legation—for help as I instructed?” An attack of vertigo threatened his balance. Putting a hand over his mouth, he swayed. Leopold was the first to reach him and put a steadying hand on his shoulder. Anwar, Cooper and the others came to stand on either side.

  Guan-jiah wiped his eyes with both sleeves. “That doctor said the Mistress lost too much blood.”

  Remain calm, Robert thought. Stay in control. It took an effort to hold on. Letting go was a luxury he could not afford. He turned to Cooper, who stood to his right with a face that had turned chalky white.

  “I want fourteen horses saddled and ready immediately.” His lips felt numb. His voice sounded strained and fragile.

  “The rain,” Cooper said.

  “Damn the rain!” Robert replied. “Just see to it. And wake my guards. Tell them we’re leaving for Peking immediately.”

  Cooper and the others left the room for the stables behind the main building. Robert was the Godfather to Cooper’s son.

  “Come with me,” he said to Guan-jiah. When they arrived at the stables, the horses were being saddled. The dozen troopers from his guard detail were spilling into the place pulling on uniforms. It was obvious they had been sleeping. He counted fifteen horses. “We don’t need that many, Cooper.”

  “You think I’m letting you go cross-country to Peking in this weather without me. You stood by me when I was wounded. Now I will stand by you.” Leopold and Anwar came with thick wool jackets piled in their arms.

  “Put this on, Inspector General,” Anwar said, and he held a full-length winter jacket for Robert. Leopold pulled a navy, wool watch cap over Robert’s head and around his ears.

  He was overwhelmed and couldn’t respond. He had to fight back tears and didn’t remember putting the jacket on. He was vaguely aware of the others dressing him while he stood like a statue. Dear God, he thought, please do not take my lover from me.

  After the others helped him mount his horse, the gelding reared on its hind legs and pranced nervously as if it sensed his distress. That seemed to wake Robert from the emotions threatening to bury him.

  Once he calmed the gelding, they were off at a gallop through the city streets. The horses made a sound like thunder sending a warning to get out of the way. Soon, they were all soaked and the cold penetrated deep as the rain pounded them.

  The horses’ hooves echoed as they crossed a wooden bridge, then they were racing cross-country toward Peking with the blinding, freezing rain beating against their faces. The bannermen rode in a tight pack behind Robert, Cooper and Guan-jiah.

  Wind whipped the rain past his ears. He saw the fleeting images of people scattering to get out of the way. Fields, farmhouses, and trees all blurred past beyond that wet curtain.

  The horses were well lathered when they reached the first station where fresh horses were brought out.

  The stationmaster protested. “It will be dark soon,” he said. “The road is not safe. It will freeze and there are bandits and because of the rain there might be places where the road will be washed out.”

  Robert glared at him, and said, “Don’t be a fool! Bandits will not be out in this.”

  The station man looked startled. “I understand you are in a great hurry. I just want you to know the dangers.”

  Guan-jiah handed Robert a revolver, and he put it into a coat pocket. The long wool coat was dripping with water. He squeezed Guan-jiah’s shoulder. It was like the old times when they had to watch out for Ward. “Let’s get back on the road,” he said.

  “We have to warm up, Inspector General,” Cooper said. “We cannot go on until we dry out. Give us half-an-hour, then we will be on our way. It won’t do any good if we freeze before we get there.”

  A half-hour later, they mounted fresh horses. Robert’s new mount whinnied and tossed its head. Gaining control, he squeezed his legs against the beast’s sides, and they burst from the stable and were in the rain again. The horses’ hooves hitting the wet ground sounded like the muffled roar of cannons.

  He lost sense of time. Night came and the terrain on either side of the road vanished in the darkness and the unrelenting rain beat on them and still they rode. The cold reached inside with icy fingers and he lost touch with his nose, toes and fingers.

  Twice more Cooper took charge and they stopped to crowd around a fire to get warm while new mounts were readied. Cooper, Guan-jiah and the bannermen did all the work at each station.

  A colorful kaleidoscope of memories crowded into Robert’s brain. He saw Shao-mei and Ayaou going outside in their wooden shoes during the summer holding paper umbrellas over their heads. He jerked when grisly images of Shao-mei’s death at Ward’s hands pushed the good memories aside. He couldn’t remember if Ward was dead or alive.

  “Are you okay, Master?” Guan-jiah asked, but Robert didn’t hear him. Instead, he heard Ayaou singing. Then the sisters were reciting favorite poems together. Tears blinded him and froze on his eyelashes.

  It was as if he was tottering on the edge of hell ready to fall into the endless fires and his girls were reaching for him. “Don’t let us go alone.” Their voices screeched like black crows. “Come with us, Robert. We love you. We’re afraid.”

  “You need to eat, Master,” Guan-jiah said at one of the stations.

  Robert looked around and found himself standing inside stables. He couldn’t remember arriving or dismounting. Ice had formed on his clothes and face. As it melted, the water dripped and formed a puddle around his feet. The numb parts of his body started to feel as if someone were jabbing his toes and fingers with needles. Steam came off the horses. He took a shuddering breath and searched for Guan-jiah to discover the eunuch standing beside him. He had no idea where he was.

  The bannermen stood around stuffing food in their mouths. Guan-jiah had a bun of steamed bread. He tore off a piece and pushed it against Robert’s lips. “Get that out of my face. I’m not hungry,” he said. “Are the horses ready?”

  “Not yet,” Cooper said. “You are going to eat, Inspector General, even if these bannermen have to sit on you while I feed you. Guan-jiah is right. A bit of hot porridge will do you good. It will warm your innards and about now I suspect they need warming.”

  He glared at Cooper but the man refused to back down, so he ate without tasting a thing.

  Once they were in the mud again, Robert leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the horse’s neck. The rain and the darkness were so thick that he could not see the ground. He felt the horse’s neck heaving beneath him like a boat in a storm, and he treasured the heat radiating from the horse’s body. It was as if he were riding the crest of a giant wave that was carrying him toward a rocky shore where he would be smashed into a bloody pulp.

  Maybe that was what he wanted—an end to this horrid suffering that came from loving another person as much as he loved Ayaou.

  Then dawn broke along the horizon piercing the clouds with a defused light, and they were riding through Peking’s open city gates and through that long tunnel beneath the wall. They had arrived, and with his guard detail trailing behind, Robert reached his mansion not far from The Forbidden City.

  The servants came running and threw themselves at his feet and knocked their heads on the ground repeatedly. “Don’t let them do that, Guan-jiah,” he said, and hurried through the house toward the backstairs that would take him to the bedroom he shared with Ayaou on the second floor. A trail of wet, muddy footprin
ts followed him.

  In the bedroom, there was a nurse from the British consulate sitting on a stool at the foot of the bed. She stood and stared at Robert as if he were a crazy man. He sensed others in the shadows but ignored them. He hadn’t had a haircut in weeks and his long hair was plastered to his face. He’d been waiting to get home and have Ayaou cut it. He loved the way she cut his hair. His drenched clothing clung heavy and limp from his body. His shoes made wet squishy sounds as he walked toward the bed.

  Ayaou had her back to him. She was on her side facing the wall. Her long dark hair spread across the pillow like floating seaweed. He knelt by the bed and reached out to touch her. “Ayaou.” It was a struggle to keep the urgency out of his voice and make the word sound gentle. He didn’t know if she were still alive.

  She turned slowly. Her eyes were sunken like two black rocks in wet sand. The brown had fled from her complexion, and she was pale like cold snow. Her colorless lips had peeled and flaked.

  She smiled. “You made it.” Then she squinted and struggled to sit up but failed. With a wheeze, she dropped back and worry poured into her face. Every word she said took an effort. “You are soaking wet—you will catch your death—Guan-jiah,” she struggled to breathe, “see that he changes into something dry—make sure he does it right away.”

  Trying to control his tears, Robert buried his face in the blankets. Hands plucked at his wet clothing. His jacket came off. Then his pants and his shirt. Someone dried him with a towel. Then they dressed him in dry clothes.

  “Do not be sad,” Ayaou said weakly. “It is not like I did not get any of you.”

  He choked not knowing if he were going to cry or laugh then took her hand and climbed on the bed beside her.

  “Sir, you shouldn’t do that,” the nurse said. “She needs rest.”

  Guan-jiah stopped her, and Cooper stepped forward. They hadn’t changed and were still in their wet, half-frozen clothing. Cooper ordered everyone to leave the room and went out last with Guan-jiah. They closed the door leaving Ayaou and Robert alone.