That afternoon Struan was standing beside the large tent that he had had set up on the foreshore of Happy Valley. He was watching Captain Orlov supervise the seamen as they hauled barrels from the longboat and stacked them neatly inside the tent. He was so engrossed that he did not hear Mary Sinclair come up behind him.
Her face was framed by a bonnet which tied under her chin. Her maroon broadcloth gown swept the sand, tight at the waist to make a fashionable hourglass figure. But the cloth was of poor quality and the cut old-fashioned. She carried a ragged muff, and around her shoulders was a gray shawl that matched her eyes. She appeared neat and plain and poor, demure, ladylike.
“Hello, Tai-Pan,” she said.
Struan came out of his reverie. “Oh, hello, Mary. You look very pretty.”
“Thank you, kind sir,” Mary said with a fleeting smile. She curtsied gracefully. “That’s praise indeed.”
The beach and valley were filling up with traders and their wives and children, festive and in their best clothes, greeting one another and conversing volubly. Groups of soldiers and sailors, their officers resplendent, were dotted about. Longboats were bringing other families and officers ashore. Close to the shore were clusters of sampans fishing, and to the west a mass of noisy, curious Chinese, cordoned off from the valley by soldiers.
The auctioneer’s dais had been placed on a small rise fifty yards away, and Struan noticed Gordon Chen standing nearby. His son bowed immediately. It was obvious to Struan that the youth wanted to talk to him and must have been waiting patiently for an unobtrusive opportunity.
“Afternoon, Gordon. I’ll see you in a minute,” he called out.
“Thank you, sir,” Gordon Chen called back, and he bowed again.
Struan saw Robb strolling with Sarah who was heavy with child, her face strained. Karen was romping beside them. Struan looked for Culum but couldn’t find him and presumed he was still on the flagship; then he saw him, deep in conversation with Glessing. He found it odd that Culum had not sought him out as soon as he had come ashore.
“Excuse me, Tai-Pan, Miss Sinclair,” Orlov said. “That’s all of them.”
“I should hope so, Captain Orlov,” Mary said teasingly. “I hear you’ve been bringing barrels ashore for the last two hours. Do you want the whole European population inebriated, Mr. Struan?”
Struan laughed shortly. “No. Thank you, Cap’n.”
Orlov touched his forelock to Mary and entered the tent with some of the seamen. Others collected around it, while a few sat on the shore and began to shoot dice.
“You’re early, Mary. The bidding does na start for an hour yet.”
“Captain Glessing was kind enough to offer me escort,” she said. “Let’s walk a little, shall we?”
“Surely,” Struan replied as he detected an edge to her voice. They began to stroll inland.
The bed of the valley was damp, and the rain of yesterday was lying in quiet pools. A stream snaked placidly from the small waterfall. Flies and dragonflies and bees and gnats sang an undercurrent to the breakers. The sun carried the promise of spring.
When they were well removed from the crowd, Mary stopped. “First, I wanted to tell you how sorry I was over your loss.”
“Thank you, Mary.”
“I tried to see you before you left for Canton.”
“I remember. That was kind of you.”
“Last night I tried to come aboard. I wanted to see how you were. That was bad joss.’”
“Aye. But it’s over. Past.”
“Yes. But I can read the hurt in your face. Others won’t, but I can see it.”
“How are things with you?” he asked, staggered, as always, that Mary could seem so ordinary—sweet, gentle, everything she should be—but was not. I should na like her, he thought, but I do.
“Life amuses me. For a time.” Mary glanced back at the beach. Brock, Gorth and Nagrek Thumb, Eliza Brock and her daughters, were getting out of their longboat. “I’m glad you’ve beaten Brock again. So very glad.”
“Have I?”
Mary’s eyes crinkled. “Forty lacs of bullion? Four coins?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Have you forgotten, Tai-Pan? I have friends in high places.” She said it conversationally. But when she was with the Tai-Pan she despised these “friends.”
“Who has—who have the other half coins?”
“Would you like me to find out?”
“Maybe I think you already know.”
“Ah, Tai-Pan, you are a man among men.” Her warmth deepened. “I know where two are. When I know about the other two, I’ll tell you.”
“Who have the two?”
“If you arranged such a huge loan, how many would you keep?”
“All of them. Aye, by God, all of them. Jin-qua has two?”
“One.” She toyed with her shawl and arranged it more neatly. “There are four thousand bannermen in Canton now. And a big armada of fire ships. There’s to be an attack on our fleet if it tries to force the Bogue forts. Another fleet’s waiting fifty miles north. Does the name Wu Kwok mean anything?”
Struan pretended to think, but inside he was reeling. Before the meeting with Scragger he had never heard of Wu Kwok—of Wu Fang Choi, the father, of course, but not the son. Mauss had not been told what had transpired on the junk or what Scragger had said. Only Robb and Culum knew. Impossible for Mary to have heard about Wu Kwok from them. So it must have come from Wu Kwok—or from Jin-qua. But how? “That’s an ordinary enough name,” he said. “Why?”
“He’s Wu Fang Choi’s eldest son.”
“The pirate warlord? The White Lotus?” Struan feigned astonishment.
“I adore shocking you,” she said gaily. “Well, the emperor has secretly offered mandarinates to Wu Kwok and Wu Fang Choi through the Hoppo at Canton. And the governor-generalships of Fukien Province—and Formosa—in return for an attack on the shipping in Hong Kong harbor. Their entire fleet.”
“When’s the attack?” His shock was authentic.
“They haven’t accepted yet. As the Chinese say, ‘negotiations are proceeding.’ ”
Could the favors Wu Kwok requested be a blind? Struan asked himself. A devilish play within a play to put him at ease and trap him? Why, then, the coin? Would they risk their entire fleet? Four thousand junks manned by those pirate scum could finish us—perhaps!
“Would you know if they accept—if there’s to be an attack?”
“I’m not sure—but I think so. But that’s not all, Tai-Pan. You should know that the reward on your head is doubled. There’s a reward on Culum now, too. Ten thousand dollars. On all the English. George Glessing, Longstaff, Brock.” Her voice flattened. “And on May-may, Duncan and Kate. If kidnaped alive.”
“What?”
“I heard three days ago. You weren’t here, so I caught the first boat I could for Macao, but you’d just left. So I went to see May-may. I told her I’d been sent by you, that you’d heard she and the children were in danger. Then I went to your compradore and told him, in your name, to take May-may and the children into his house; that if anything happened to them before you got back you’d hang him and his children and his children’s children.”
“What did Chen Sheng say?”
“He said to tell you that you need have no fear. I saw May-may and the children into his house, then came back to Hong Kong. I think they’re safe for the time being.”
“Does he know about the bullion?”
“Of course. Part of it, a small part of it, is his. What better investment could he make?”
“Who else put up the bullion?”
“I know about Chen Sheng, Jin-qua, the Co-hong merchants—they all have a share. That made about fifteen lacs. The rest I’m not sure. Probably the Manchu mandarins.”
“Ti-sen?”
“No. He’s in complete disgrace. All his wealth is forfeit. The Co-hong estimate that to be about two thousand lacs. Gold.”
“Chen Sheng said he’d look after them?”
“Yes. Now that you’re rich again, he’ll guard them with his mother’s life. For the time, anyway.”
“Wait here, Mary.” Struan turned for the beach. He picked out Wolfgang and shouted to him, beckoning, and hurried toward him.
“Wolfgang, get Orlov and take
China Cloud
to Macao. Get May-may and the children and bring them and the amah back. Full sail. Leave Cudahy in charge of the tent.”
“Bring them here?”
“Aye. Be back by tomorrow. They’re at Chen Sheng’s.”
“Bring them here? Openly?”
“Aye, by God! Leave immediately.”
“I won’t do it, Tai-Pan. Not openly. You’d destroy yourself. You know you’d be ostracized.”
“The mandarins have put a ransom on their heads. Hurry!”
“Gott im Himmel!”
Mauss tugged at his beard nervously. “I’ll bring them aboard secretly and swear Orlov to secrecy.
Gott im Himmel,
forgive this poor sinner.”
Struan walked back to Mary. “Who told you about the kidnaping, Mary?”
“No one you know.”
“You put yoursel’ in great danger, lassie. Getting information, then acting on it yoursel’.”
“I’m very careful.”
“Leave Macao once and for all. Take yoursel’ out of that life while you have your life. Your joss will na last forever.”
“Let’s talk about you, Tai-Pan. You can’t flaunt your Chinese mistress here.”
“She and the children’ll be safe aboard, and that’s all that counts.”
“Not in our society, by God, and you know it. They’ll break you, Tai-Pan—even you—if you go against their godrotting code. They have to. She’s Chinese.”
“The pox on them!”
“Yes. But it’ll be a lonely curse, and you’ve your house to think of. So long as May-may’s kept private, she’s no threat to them—what’s not seen does not exist. It’s not my place to advise you—you know that better than anyone— but I beg you, keep her private.”
“I do, and I will—unless they’re in danger. I owe you a favor, Mary.”
“Yes.” Her eyes lit with a curious flame. “I would like a favor.”
“Name it.”
“Anything I ask?”
“Name it.”
“Not now. When I want my favor, I’ll ask it. Yes. One day I’ll want a favor.” Then she added lightly, “You should be more cautious, Tai-Pan. I’m a woman, and a woman’s mind works very differently from a man’s.”
“Aye,” he said, and grinned.
“You’ve such a nice smile, Tai-Pan.”
“Thank you, kind lady,” he said. He bowed elegantly. “That’s praise indeed!” He put his arm in hers and they began to walk back to the beach. “Who told you about May-may and the children?”
“We agreed, two years ago, that the sources of my information were sacrosanct.”
“Will you na use those long words?”
“I’m glad I met May-may at long last. She’s so beautiful. And the children.” She was feeling warmed by his touch.
“Is there a chance the information was incorrect?”
“No. Kidnaping for ransom is an ancient Chinese art.”
“It’s filthy. To touch women and children.” Struan was silent a moment. “How long are you staying here?”
“A few days. Horatio—Horatio gets a little lost when he’s alone. By the way, Chen Sheng knows I speak Cantonese, of course. Now May-may knows. I asked her to keep it secret. She will, won’t she?”
“Aye. Nae fear of that. But I’ll remind her.” He forced his mind off May-may and the children and Wu Kwok and the fire ships and the remaining three half coins. “One secret deserves another. The Noble House is giving a ball in thirty-odd days. Of course you’re invited.”
“What a marvelous idea!”
“We’re giving a prize. A thousand guineas for the best-dressed lady.”
“Good God, Tai-Pan, you’ll have your eyes scratched out!”
“Aristotle’s going to be the judge.”
“You’ll still have your eyes scratched out.” Her eyes seemed to change color. “You’d best remember. Now you’re the most eligible man in Asia.”
“What?”
Her laugh was half mocking. “Best choose a wife while you’ve the time. There’ll be many a doxy shaking her drawers at you and many a mother primping her daughters into your bed.”
“Will you na say such things!”
“Don’t say you weren’t warned, my lad. A thousand guineas? I think I’d like to win that prize.” Abruptly her mood changed. “I’ve the money to buy such a dress, as you well know—but if I did, it would, well, it would spoil the Mary Sinclair people know. Everyone knows we’re as poor as coolies.”
“But nothing says I canna give you a dress. At least, there’s nothing that says I canna make the offer through Horatio. Is there?”
“God’s blood, Tai-Pan, would you really? I’ll give you back the money.”
“If you’ll stop God’s-blooding, aye. But a gift is a gift.” He studied her thoughtfully. “Have you ever thought of your Great-aunt Wilhelmina?”
“Who?”
“Your mother’s second cousin once removed. In Holland.”
“Who?”
“The heiress—the one who could leave you a lot of money.”
“I’ve no relations in Holland.”
“Perhaps your mother forgot to tell you. Perhaps a solicitor in Amsterdam could write that you’ve come into an inheritance.” He lit a cheroot. “As an heiress you could spend money openly. Could you na?”
“But—but . . .” Her voice became brittle. “What about Horatio?”
“Aunt Wilhelmina could leave him two thousand guineas. The bulk to you. She only really liked female offspring. Your mother was her favorite—strange no one told you or Horatio about her. Poor Aunt Wilhelmina. She died yesterday.”
Mary’s eyes were huge with excitement. “Could you, Tai-Pan? Would you?”
“It will take three months for a letter to get to London. A month to make the arrangements in Holland. Three months back. In seven months you’re an heiress. But you’d better act the part of a church mouse for that time. And be surprised when it happens.”
“Yes. Sorry, I’m . . . I’m overwhelmed by . . . Don’t worry. Don’t worry. If I go a little mad and break into tears or scream—I worship you, Tai-Pan.”
His smile faded. “Will you na say such a thing!”
“I’ve never said it before, and perhaps I’ll never say it again. But to me you’re God.” She turned and walked inland alone.
Struan watched her for a moment, then headed for Gordon Chen. He looks more Chinese every day, Struan thought. Out to sea, the longboat with Orlov and Mauss aboard was still well away from
China Cloud.
Hurry it up, by God!