My Splendid Concubine (97 page)

“
Yes, your Majesty.” It was well known that the empress rewarded loyalty. Robert hoped to take advantage of that. His chair sat close to the platform.

She glanced left and right and the eunuchs
and ministers backed out of earshot. She smiled. At seventy-three, she had delicate graceful features, fine skin, slender hands and jewel-encased fingernails. She wore light makeup; her black hair was combed back smoothly.

“
I had a concubine once,” he said in a low voice. Her name was Ayaou. She—”

“
I know this name.” The empress nodded. “Prince Kung mentioned her around the time you came to work for us. Was she a boat-girl?”

“
Yes, she was.”

“
What can I do for you?”

“
I’d like to see her grave moved to an honorable place to match the titles your Majesty has granted me. And if possible, honor her ancestors as well.”

The empress went quiet for a long moment giving him time to r
eflect. Ayaou was the only woman he ever loved. After she had died in childbirth, he had taken a leave of absence and returned to Ireland with the children.

He found a f
oster home near Belfast for the children with a good family his father knew. Letting the children go had been painful, but it was what Ayaou had wanted. He had fulfilled her dying wish. Since he worked in China, he never had a chance to see Anna, Herbert or Arthur again. He supported them financially until they reached maturity. The person hurt most was Guan-jiah, who missed the children horribly.

Robert knew the only way he could avoid marrying a Ma
nchu princess was to marry one of his own people. His aunts arranged a marriage in five days. Hester Jane was eighteen and Robert thirty. The marriage took place three months later. She was the daughter of the family doctor. It was a marriage of convenience, and Hester had to be by his side when he returned to China.

He felt a flash of guilt for not loving her. He had tried, but his ability to fall in love with another woman had died with Ayaou. He wondered if he should mention these things to the empress but decided not to.

It was fortunate that over the years, Hester Jane had become his friend and companion. She lost their first child through a miscarriage, and then gave birth to Evey, a daughter, then Edgar, a son. He’d hardly missed her after she left China with their children and returned to London where she had lived for the last thirty-three years.

After Ayaou
’s death, he devoted himself to making the Maritime Customs Service a success. Hester once said that he loved Customs more than he loved her. There had been no argument. It was true. He had also been behind the building of an efficient postal system and reorganizing China’s schools so they could compete with the West.

“
I can tell you have been missing this concubine,” the empress said, breaking the long silence. “What you are asking says a lot about who you are. I am not surprised.”

He nodded
—unable to speak, while his heart swelled with mixed feelings. He worried that the expression in his eyes might give him away. He hated others knowing what he was thinking. The empress’s next words told him she’d noticed.

“
What a fortunate girl,” she said. “Even I envy her.” Taking her teacup, she sipped. “I will see that it is done.”

After the audience, Li Lien-ying, the chief
eunuch, who had served the empress for fifty years, walked with Robert to the sedan chair. “You are most fortunate,” the eunuch said. “It is seldom that we see the empress show her soft side to anyone, a gift one should treasure.”

“
I understand,” he replied, and climbed into his sedan chair. The bearers lifted it and smoothly carried him from the cloud patterned marble courtyard in front of the Palace of Benevolent Tranquility and out of the Forbidden City.

He had finally found some peace from the pain of Ayaou
’s loss. He had never forgotten her and memoires of the ten years they had together were always with him.

On the morning of April 13, 1908, Robert left for the train station. He wanted to skip the farewell ceremony. All his friends, employees, and crowds of Chinese people wanted to come and see him off, but he didn’t want the pomp. Leaving had become difficult and slipping away quietly was something he desired. He didn’t want anyone to see him shed even one tear.

Back in 1859, he
’d resolved to help the Chinese to the best of his abilities and had never swerved from that path. What he had achieved hadn’t been done just for the glory and the power. He’d fallen in love with the Chinese culture. He could thank Ayaou for that.

Over the years, his rewards had been many.
Queen Victoria of Great Britain had knighted him in 1893, along with a grand cross and a baronetcy. More than a dozen countries had honored him. Even the Vatican in 1885 had made him a Commandeur of the Order of Pius IX. Much had happened since he left Ireland in 1854.

His sedan chair reached the train station, and he heard a brass band playing
‘Auld Lang Syne’. It was his Chinese band, the one he’d trained, the one that played every Wednesday in Peking at his garden parties in the eight-acre Inspectorate garden. Holding back tears and showing no emotion, he walked slowly past them. He knew that if he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to leave.

There was a company of Highlanders with pipers, American Marines, Italian sailors, Dutch Marines, Japanese soldiers and three Chinese detachments of Manchu bannermen from the Forbidden City to honor Robert and see him off.

With help from his cane, he made his way between them while the bands started to play ‘Home Sweet Home’. The soldiers saluted.

The train reached the port of Tientsin in the afternoon. What used to take such a long time on foot or horseback now took only a few hours by rail. There’d been no railroads in China when he first arrived. He was proud that he’d been the one who’d seen that they were built.

Of course, he hadn
’t been alone. He missed Li Hung-chang and Prince Kung, both gone now. If they hadn’t supported his proposals, the Ch’ing Dynasty would never have approved.

He was leaving China with no regrets. He
’d fulfilled his life’s goals—even the one he held closest to his heart and had shared with only the empress to honor Ayaou’s memory.

A Custom
’s cruiser waited. His trunks, packed with those belongings he’d acquired since the loss of his posessions to the Boxer Rebellion in 1900, were already on board. He never blamed the Boxers for his personal treasures that they looted and destroyed when his mansion was burned to the ground. It was one of those regrettable incidents that were part of history as he was now part of history.

Those few servants he was taking back to England were on the ship with Guan-jiah, who
’d been with him since the beginning. So, in essence, he was leaving China as he’d arrived, with only memories and a few possessions.

Eventually, dark smoke spiraled into the sky from the cruiser
’s smokestacks and the ship steamed toward the Yellow Sea. Robert stood by the rail watching the landmass fade to a blur on the horizon, which brought back images of his first sighting of China.

It was as if he
’d opened an old manuscript covered in dust that he had written long ago. In this manuscript was revealed a story that part of him didn’t want to revisit while another part wanted to live it over again.

Robert touched a necklace hidden under his shirt. He
’d worn it most of his life. There were nine olive pits on the string. Shao-mei had spent hours sanding off the pointed ends of the pits, then drilling holes in them with little needles. She said the necklace would bring him luck. Tears filled his eyes. Poor Shao-mei, he thought. She had never known the love and affection she so deserved. Then he wondered how long he had before he joined the sisters.

Someone draped a cape over his shoulders.
“Master,” Guan-jiah said, “what have I told you about keeping warm? Even in spring, the sea air can be cool.”

###

Books by Lloyd Lothouse

http://lloydlofthouse.org/

Running with the Enemy

Publisher’s Note

Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

3rd edition March 2013

Copyright © 2013 by Lloyd Lofthouse

2nd edition February 2009

1st edition December 2007

ISBN: 978-0-9860328-3-7

This revised and edited 3rd edition combines all previous editions of this historical fiction novel.

Three Clover Press
P. O. Box 4221
Walnut Creek, CA 94596-0221

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cover Art by Denise Killingsworth

The cover of this novel is a photo of the original quilt the artist was commissioned to create for
The Concubine Saga
.

www.denisequilts.com