Tempted Tigress (20 page)

Wife Number Three frowned, clearly lost. "But I thought he died. Murdered for gambling."

Anna grimaced. "My pretend father. The one who took me from the nuns. He never stopped looking for me. He wants his things back. The things I sold to escape him."

Wife Number Two's eyes narrowed. "What things?"

"He found me a month ago. It is a big story in Peking about the mandarin with a white wife. Everyone talks about it. They don't believe it is possible, that we could fall in love. But then they see me with my fine clothing and the jade in my hair, and they know it is true."

First Wife nodded darkly. "Those who look will always find you. You cannot escape them."

"But I did. For years, I have been so happy! But he found me. Samuel." She whispered his name like the hiss of a snake, and all the women recoiled in horror. Then she continued, her shoulders shaking from a fear more real than she cared to admit. "A month ago, he found me and demanded payment for what he lost."

Again Wife Number Two spoke. "What was it that you sold?"

"I convinced my husband to bring me along when he traveled south. I told him I could make him happy. We could make another son."

First Wife knew the next step. They all did. "Your father pursued you. Everyone would know where you were going. A mission from the Dowager Empress would be known by all. Silly girl, it would be easy to follow you."

Anna nodded. "I gave my father all the jewelry I had. It was worth far more than what I stole, but he was not satisfied."

"Men do not get satisfied," murmured Fifth Wife. "They always return for more."

Anna focused on the young girl and nodded quietly. How many times had she suffered at the hands of her husband? "Yes," Anna confirmed. "He demanded more. And when I had nothing, he hit me." She showed the bruises on her arms, the ones given to her by the villagers and the slaver.

Wife Number Four finished the tale then. "He tried to steal you back. He grabbed you and ran but the mandarin pursued. He found you—"

"And he killed your pretend father," said Number Five. "The evil Ssssamuel."

"And then you ended up here?" scoffed Number Two. "I do not believe you. Why would your husband not take you back home then? Why not to your boat to shower gifts upon you?"

"Because it only just happened!" retorted First Wife. "Did you not see the blood on his jacket when he arrived here? Was she not wearing peasant clothing that hung on her like a sack? It was because of the blood, because he only just killed the evil father."

Anna let them squabble, noting who sided with her, who did not. It was Wife Number Two who was most suspicious, most disbelieving of a happy future. And given her crippled form, the woman had cause to be skeptical. So Anna directed her tears to that woman, showing her agony to the one woman who could not believe.

"No, no," she whispered. "That is not at all what happened."

It took a moment for them all to quiet enough to hear her. But when they did, she once again had a rapt audience. She told them, as quickly as she could, of being caught by the villagers, of the slaver who had come to sell her into an unspeakable life, and of her "husband's" dramatic rescue. It wasn't easy, and yet it wasn't hard either. She dwelled on his warmth, on the security she'd felt in his arms and how if he hadn't arrived when he did...

And as she spoke, she felt a rightness in her words. The mandarin
had
saved her. He had been very kind to her. The question was why? But that was not something to be answered now. Instead, she turned her tragic gaze back to Wife Number Two.

"He does not know," she whispered. "He does not know my father still pursues us. He does not know that if we return to the boat, my father will be waiting nearby for the next time I am alone." Her voice trembled and she clutched at her skirt, crushing the delicate silk.

"Tell him!" Wife Number Three said. "Tell him and he will protect you."

Anna bit her lip. Chinese wives had a long tradition of keeping secrets from their husbands. They understood the companionship of sisters, the silent hiding of sins from one's husband. And so she closed her eyes and allowed tears to fall.

"He will hate me then. He thinks... I never told him the truth of my childhood. I let him believe I was a rich white girl lost in China." She bit her lip. "He has a terrible temper. I fear he will kill me if he learns the truth."

She peeked upward, studying the women's faces. They understood the fear of being killed by one's husband. Then she raised her head, noticing something for the first time. There was a gap in ages between Wives Three and Four. The youngest two might not even be twenty yet, whereas Wife Number Three was mid-thirties at least. That often happened when a man could not afford a new wife. Or...

"You know," she whispered. "You know of men who kill their wives, don't you? The governor had other wives, didn't he?"

All five women looked away. In the end it was left to First Wife to answer the question. "There were two others. We do not speak of them. The two here—FuXi and LiBo—should be Wives Number Six and Seven, but we do not speak of the others."

Wife Number Two kept her face averted the longest. She spoke in the softest of whispers, her face turned to the wall. "We do not speak of the others," she repeated.

"So you understand," Anna responded. "You know I cannot tell him. I have to appease my father." She swallowed. It was time to finish this. It was time to get what she needed and disappear, as fast as possible. They would give it to her now. The First Wife was definitely on her side, along with the youngest two. Even if Wife Number Two suspected the lies, she would be silenced by the others. Besides, they all needed to believe in the dream she had created. They all needed a part in making it come true. When she got to England, she would buy them something wonderful—English lace for their clothing and mechanical toys for their children. Something special to make up for what she took from them now. She would do that as soon as she could. But for now...

"What does your father demand?" First Wife asked.

Anna raised her eyes, pretending to an innocence she had lost within a week of leaving the mission. "I couldn't ask it of you. You have been too kind."

"Our husband is very rich," put in Wife Number Three. "We have more than enough of everything. Surely we could share. What do you need?"

They were committed now. Whatever she asked for, Number Three had just committed them to supplying it. Anna mentally upgraded what she could ask for. Meanwhile, she blinked back more tears. "You have been so kind..."

"Enough!" snapped the First Wife. "We will not sit by and watch you killed. What do you need?"

Anna opened her mouth to answer. The word was simple and eloquent on her tongue, but she never got the chance to voice it. Someone else said the word. Someone who had been listening silently for some time. Someone who might very well kill her for what she had just done.

"Opium," he said from the doorway. "She wants opium."

Anna turned and saw the mandarin standing there, his expression as hard as stone. Anger poured out of him, staining the room like spilled ink.

"My husband!" she cried, hoping to distract him. It didn't work.

His expression remained trained on her, but his words were for the rest of the room. "I am here on a mission from the Dowager Empress. I am to find those that poison China with the white dung powder." He took a step further into the room. "My job—my sworn duty—is to kill any I find possessing opium." His gaze left Anna's face. He slowly inspected each woman, one after the other. Each shrunk from him in terror, bowing and sidling backward if they could.

Anna swallowed, recognizing the speech for what it was. The Enforcer always said such a thing to the wives and the children. He told them who he was, then he threatened to kill them if any were caught with opium. His next words were delivered with a kind of softness, even.

"None of you have such an evil thing, do you?" he asked.

"No, your honor," the women answered, as they always did.

"Of course not, your honor."

"Never."

He released a sigh. A slow one, which held real regret.

"Good," he said in a much softer tone. "Because your husband did deal in such poison. He is dead now by my hand."

Anna pressed a hand to her mouth to repress a cry of shock. Even knowing the end of the Enforcer's speech, she had not expected such a thing at this moment, at this time. He had killed the governor? Moments ago?

The other women were also frozen in shock. They said nothing, only stared.

"My servant will help you deal with matters," he said to the wives. Then he crossed to stand beside Anna. "Now, if you will please excuse me, it is time I spoke with my wife."

January 3, 1882

To Mr. and Mrs. Kent of Oxford, England:

My name is Mother Francis, and I am the Mother Superior of a mission hospital in China. I write to you today with a troubled heart. I believe you are the parents of an Elizabeth Kent who married Frank Thompson, a sailor by trade. I understand that he and your
daughter
subsequently left England to make their fortune in Shanghai, China.

Did Mr. Thompson write you of your daughter's death some years ago? It is my fervent hope that he did. However, if he neglected this important and Christian act, I must sadly inform you that your daughter and her infant died shortly after the new year 1876. They were victims of a childbed fever.

However their eldest child—Anna—still survives. She came to us when her father was at sea. He provided for her in the way of all careless men and has apparently met his fate of drink or women or worse, I cannot say.

But the child Anna remains. Surely you wish to know your last surviving grandchild? She is of an age that she could travel home to you should arrangements be made. I pray that you will desire to reunite with your granddaughter in all Christian charity, as she has lately fallen into the company of one of her father's associates, Mr. Samuel Fitzpatrick. I do not like this man or his reputation. Though I keep strict control of the men who visit my charges, Anna can be a willful child and she sees in Mr. Fitzpatrick a substitute father. It would be best for your granddaughter if she were removed from the disturbing atmosphere of China as soon as possible and remanded into your care.

Surely you wish such a thing? Surely you want to know your granddaughter.

However, if my prayers are in vain, perhaps you know of Mr. Thompson's family. Would not his parents be interested in their beautiful granddaughter?

In God's good grace I pray,

Mother Francis

St. Agatha Mission

Shanghai, China

By the late 1830s, there was no doubt that opium was leading to the destruction of China. By 1836, opium shipments were more than 30,000 chests, enough to supply 12.5 million smokers. The Chinese imperial army lost a battle against local rebels because the army was addicted to opium. The financial drain on China was disrupting the entire economy.

—Robert Trout, The Chinese
Opium Wars