All the Tea in China (19 page)

Then one day I received an answer that I could only attribute to the Divine. While I had enjoyed the books Mr. Gilpin shared, I had not thought to use them for any other purpose save my own education and entertainment. But it occurred to me that perhaps I could loan them to Miss Whipple. Education, Uncle Toby had always said, was the key to unlock the doors of ignorance and poverty. While I would not deem her ignorant, for I thought her quite intelligent, actually, Miss Whipple could perhaps find a new life for herself as a governess if she but had the learning.

I found her one afternoon after dinner, lingering in the cuddy. Oblivious to the crew removing the dinnerware and leftover food, she stared at the wall as though a window would present itself. “Miss Whipple,” I said.

She turned, and for one moment I saw great sadness in her eyes. Then something shuttered her vulnerability, and she smiled at me. “Miss Goodrich. Are you looking for Phineas?”

“Not at all. It is your company I sought.”

“Have you and Phineas abandoned your lessons?”

“Only for a while. I find the Chinese words all run together if we spend too much time on them. I thought perhaps that different lessons might be in order.”

Her smile turned sardonic. “And what is it you would learn from me?”

“Quite the opposite. I thought perhaps you might be interested in learning with me.”

She laughed. “I have no use for Chinese, Miss Goodrich. The king’s English will do for my needs.”

I took a chair beside her. “Miss Whipple, may I be blunt?”

“Please do.”

She stared at me so coldly that I felt compelled to look away for a moment, then resolve steadied my nerves. “Have you had much education?”

“It depends on the sort of education you mean.”

I felt a blush creep around my neck. “Academic, of course. The truth is, Miss Whipple, that I have had the benefit of a good education. Some would say too much so, but that is neither here nor there. At any rate, I have no idea what purpose I will find in China, but perhaps it will be as a teacher. I have no experience as such, and I thought it might help me to practice, so to speak, with someone.”

“And you see me as that candidate?”

I nodded.

“Why?” She folded her arms.

I blew out a long breath. “You have admitted your purpose for moving to China. I propose to change that purpose. With a bit of learning . . .”

“Miss Goodrich.” She started to rise, apparently thought better of it, and sat down. “I have more learning than you will ever know. I believe you’re a kind soul, but either you’re too naïve to see life as it is or you choose to ignore its harshness. Either way, I feel sorry for you.”

I blinked. “You feel pity for me?”

“You think it’s the other way around, don’t you? You feel pity for me and think I have no voice in my future.”

“I have often thought that one’s past did determine the future, yes, but pity? I feel more . . . sadness. I want better for you.”

Miss Whipple leaned forward. “You’re a fool, Isabella Goodrich,” she said in a low voice. “You are being played for one, and yet you worry about my life. I should be the one to worry about you.”

“I . . . don’t understand.” Her words confused me.

“You know that Phineas spends time with me. What do you suppose we do?”

My mouth went dry. “I . . .”

“We talk,” she said. “Yes, that’s all we do. Talk. But I have heard quite an earful since I met Phineas Snowe.”

Tears stung my eyes. Afraid to hear more, I rose. “I do not think—”

She touched my wrist. “Sit down, Miss Goodrich. I’m telling you this because I admire you. Truly I do. You should know the truth.”

I sat, believing her words to be for my own good. “I am all attention. What should I know?”

“Phineas Snowe will never let you go to China. He will have you put off at Cape Town.”

I breathed a sigh. “I know that is what he says, but I believe he will change his mind.”

“Do you know why he cannot have you travel to Canton?”

I shook my head.

“He is not who he claims to be. He has worked for the East India Company for the last few years, it is true, but the purpose of his voyage is not to procure tea. Not for the company anyway.”

“Then what is it for?”

“He wants to find a special tea in China. Something that he believes will put the East India Company out of business. That is his life’s purpose. Everything he has done in the past few years has been to that end.”

“But why?”

“I’ll leave that much for you to ask him. Know only that he has deceived you from the moment he met you and has not ceased. He plans to leave you in Cape Town no matter how impressed he is with your learning his native language.”

“Chinese?
That
is his native tongue?”

She smiled. “Have you not noticed the structure of his face? His eyes? He wore spectacles at the party where he met you, did he not?”

“But . . . I do not understand.” My head swam with her words, which seemed to make no logical sense.

Miss Whipple rose. “Ask Phineas to explain himself. In the meantime, do not worry about my future, but take care for your own.”

9

She left me in the cuddy. I sat for a long time, numb, my mind all sixes and sevens. I could not believe that Miss Whipple would lie to me. Though we were not confidantes, I could not see what she would gain by speaking of Snowe in such a manner. Yet, could he lie to me again?

The answer came swiftly: yes. Though it grieved my heart, I knew that the truth was to my ultimate advantage, for now he could never put me ashore in Cape Town. While he believed Miss Whipple unwilling to reveal his deception to someone with the power to stop him, he knew that I would be more than so inclined.

But would I? I was terrible at bluffing in whist, the contents of my cards easily readable on my face. Or so I had been told. Higher stakes were certainly in play now, more than just a few coins between Catherine Ransom and friends and certainly more than a friendly game with Flora and Uncle Toby.

My dear loved ones. What would they advise me to do? Would they want me to see to my own safety and allow Snowe to go about his nefarious business—whatever it truly was—or expose him? Or perhaps I should endeavor to work the art of persuasion so that he might steer aside from his wicked course of action?

“There you are, Isabella. I thought you would be ready to return to our studies.”

I startled at the sound of his voice. Snowe stood so close beside my chair that I could almost feel the touch of his fingers against my shoulder. He smiled down at me, apparently unaware that his future was about to change.

“Please sit down,” I said.

“If you will wait a moment, I will retrieve the box of sand and—”

“Please sit down. This is not about our studies.”

He pulled out the chair Miss Whipple had recently vacated. Ten minutes ago I would have taken joy in advising him that I knew his scheme, but now I did not. Indeed he had shown me various kindnesses throughout our journey.

Yet, I reminded myself, ultimately he would separate me from my divine purpose because of his own double-dealing.

“What is it, Isabella?” he said. “You look pale.”

“I have received some news that concerns you. And me.”

The smile slid from his face. “Go on.”

“You will not leave me in Cape Town,” I said.

He laughed, probably from relief. “Come, Isabella, we agreed to revisit our decision when we reach port. It is early yet.”

“But we are close enough now to speak of it. Particularly since I have learned of your true purpose for going, or should I say returning, to China.”

He leaned toward me, his expression now hardened. “Julia has spoken with you.”

“Indeed she has.” I folded my hands atop the table. “Now I should like for you to explain yourself. You are owed that courtesy.”

Muttering, he glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. At last he returned his gaze to me. “I am sorry that she has spoken with you, Isabella, for I did not want you to be burdened with my problems.”

“
Your
problems? You seek to undo Britain’s premiere trading company, an act that would be near treason to the estimation of some, and it is a
problem
?”

“Do you know what the company is doing to China? To the Chinese?” he said in a low voice. “Do you know at what expense Britain gains her precious tea?”

“We trade for it, of course,” I said. “Or purchase it outright.”

“What do you suppose we trade?”

“I haven’t the vaguest notion.”

He shook his head. “I had hoped that you, of all people, would know. Yet apparently you are as ignorant as the rest of that godforsaken island.”

I resented such reference to England. “Then enlighten me.”

“The Chinese are quite self-sufficient and need nothing that Britain normally offers in trade, such as heavy woolens. Britain cannot rely on cash alone, for she is draining herself of silver to purchase tea outright. There is one thing that the Chinese have come to love, however, much to their detriment. When the British realized they could acquire it in India and trade for tea in China, they began the ruination of a great nation.”

“What is the item?”

“Opium.”

I blinked. “That is like the laudanum of which Mrs. Harrison is so fond?”

“Laudanum is made with opium, yes. Imagine a nation with hundreds, thousands, millions like her . . . gentlemen and ladies alike unwilling to do anything except stagger through life in a haze, their only desire to purchase more opium.” He laughed bitterly. “All so that the East India Company can turn a profit and Britain can have her tea.”

“I had no idea,” I whispered. “Oh, Phineas . . .”

“Is your opinion now changed regarding Britain’s premiere trading company?”

“I . . . I cannot speak to that. I can only think of the poor Orientals who are wasting their lives. Perhaps you should focus on helping them, Phineas. Perhaps together, we can—”

He smacked his hand on the table. “I am trying to help them! You seek to save their souls, but first their bodies must be saved. I want to put the East India Company out of business so that they can no longer bring opium into the country.”

“How do you propose to do that?” I said softly. “The company is large and powerful. You are alone.”

“The Tippetts are helping to finance the venture by entering the tea trade. More importantly, I will beat the company at its own game by finding a tea that outsells what they bring back to England. Just as green tea gave way in popularity to black tea, I will sell a new kind of tea for which the British will clamor. But the Tippetts’ company will be the only one to sell it.”

“Do you know of such a tea?”

He nodded. “I know someone who found it only a few years ago. It is a golden leaf that grows only in a certain part of China. The East India Company is restricted to Canton, a port city, and is dependent upon what tea growers bring there to trade. I can travel to the interior where the tea grows and bring it back to the Tippett company.”

I studied his eyes. Why had I not seen their almond shape? Mrs. Akers had been more astute than I could ever give her credit. “How is it that you can travel inland?” I said softly.

He caught me studying him and smiled. “Because I am Chinese. Does that surprise you, Isabella?”

“I . . . did not see it,” I said, faltering.

“I counted on that very thing from the beginning.”

“The spectacles . . . ?”

He nodded. “A precaution for the party.”

My heart felt as though it would break, and I could not entirely say why. Was I angry because Uncle Toby had been thoroughly duped? Was it because Phineas harbored such bitterness that had worked its way into revenge? Or was it because I had, as Miss Whipple kindly pointed out, been made the worst sort of fool?

“What I told you of my parents was not a lie,” he said, apparently unconcerned with the condition of my heart.

“Then you grew up in York?”

“I did not grow up there entirely,” he said. “I was raised in China by my mother and her family. My father was a naval man, as I said, but when he learned of my existence, he took me back to Britain to be raised in Yorkshire. I was eight at that time and lived in his family home, but I was not acknowledged as his son.”

“Oh, Phineas.” I could not believe I felt sorry for him, but I did. “How did you manage? You must have missed your mother terribly.”

“I had the best schooling possible, and when I was of age, I saw my opportunity to return to China by working with the East India Company.” He paused. “I traveled back and forth for several years, but when I saw how pervasive opium addiction was, I decided to continue to work for the company so that I could destroy it from within.”

“And now you have your opportunity.”

He smiled. “Yes. But the question is, what am I to do with you now that you know the truth?”

For one moment, fancy filled my imagination, and I pictured him throwing me overboard. Then I remembered that he had ample chance to disavow me but had done nothing save protect me at every turn, including my reputation. He had also lied to me at every turn, however . . .

“Isabella?”

“You must take me with you,” I said firmly. “That is the price of my silence.”

“No! Do you not see that I have further reason to keep you from China? It is dangerous, Isabella. I will not have you there.”

“But it is my decision. Just as you have decided to avenge your countrymen.”

“No.”

“I am not above telling Captain Malfort still,” I said. “Perhaps it would be you who is left in Cape Town, not I.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You would not do that.”

“I would.” I lifted my chin. “You have been kind to me, but you have also used me abominably. I cannot help but feel that my posing as your sister is somehow a ruse for your revenge. It gives you more respectability and brings less suspicion on yourself, am I correct?”

His expression told me that my guess was indeed accurate, and I glowed inwardly. I had won. “It is yet again blackmail,” he said.

“Then so be it,” I said. “Your words make me more determined than ever to share the gospel in China.”