The Concubine's Daughter (36 page)

T
he first weeks of
Li’s marriage passed swiftly and idyllically aboard
Golden Sky
, while the Villa Formosa was being completed. The Fish joined them on the ship, protective and attentive as ever. Miss Bramble decided to avail herself of the opportunity to return to England to take care of her affairs, before returning to China to continue her work with Li-Xia and perhaps, someday, with her children.

Ben had arranged her first-class passage on a steamer bound from Shanghai to Southampton. In Winifred’s comfortable stateroom, there was a tearful farewell.

“I almost forgot to give you this.” The tutor handed Li a framed photograph. “I’m afraid I am not much of a photographer. But this one is wonderful. I am quite proud of it.”

To Li’s delight, it was a picture of the wedding. On that day she had scarcely noted the small black box Miss Bramble was fiddling with or her requests for stillness as she clicked the shutter. Having no experience with cameras or photography, Li was astounded by the perfect image of herself and Ben beside the rigging, with the flat sea and rugged shoreline as a background. It was the first time she had seen herself as others saw her, and although she did not presume to assess her beauty, she saw at least that her face was happy, and that Ben smiled with her. She traced the filigree of the photograph’s silver frame with her thumb. “I think it is wonderful. I shall keep it beside me for the rest of my life.”

During the days Li-Xia continued her studies with Ben, becoming ever more confident in the ways of a comprador. But there were also days when they put aside their duties.
Golden Sky
visited the ancient city of Hangchow, as famous for its temples and magnificent gardens as for its exquisite porcelain, and they explored its antiquities together, making private purchases to adorn the rooms of the Villa Formosa.

Ben showed her the suite of rooms high above the Shanghai Bund, in the great House of Sassoon, which had once been occupied by his father. He was in the process of restoring them as offices for the company. He explained his intentions of soon discontinuing the shipbuilding operation in Macao, to concentrate on the Causeway Bay trading business in Hong Kong and Shanghai. It was in these two cities, the British colony of Hong Kong and the treaty port of Shanghai, he said, that future fortunes were to be made.

Golden Sky
sailed down the Yangtze River—to the fortress capital of Chungking, through the majestic gorges of the Yangtze Valley. Ben launched the dinghy, and they sailed its narrow tributaries to hidden villages poised upon fertile slopes. He showed her Yung-Po, the city of ghosts, with its old pagodas rising like minarets from the mountain mists; and the great Voice of Buddha Temple with its monolithic bell, heard as far away as the great lake of Tung-Ting. They walked among tea gardens and citrus orchards, visiting the Ming city of Datang, where nothing had changed for a thousand years, and they bartered for priceless watercolor paintings, masterful calligraphy, and the finest wild ginseng.

At night, in the great four-poster bed, they discovered pathways to ecstasy beyond all expectation. By the time
Golden Sky
prepared for the return journey to Hong Kong, Li was astonished by the depth of their intimacy and the dizzying heights of her fulfillment. It made her wish that they could sail forever, with nothing but the sea and sky to follow them. But she knew that life could never be so perfect, and that she was now the mistress of a taipan’s house.

The Devereaux estate on Repulse Bay covered a hundred acres of clifftop land, half of which had been turned into traditional Chinese gardens and the other half planted with the trees and flowers of a grand English manor. In its center, the rambling Villa Formosa was a masterpiece of East–West architecture, remarkable even by the standards of those few wealthy merchants and taipans who could afford to reside in the hills overlooking the famous bay.

Towering wrought-iron gates, set in high walls and guarded by two armed and magnificently uniformed Sikhs, opened to a wide carriageway, leading to the villa’s imposing entrance, the celestial dragon of China and the legendary dragon of St. George facing each other across wide marble steps.

During the eight years since Ben had first secured the land, only the finest craftsmen and artisans had worked on building the villa. The holds of Double Dragon vessels had carried back exquisite antiques, furniture, and works of art.

Ah-Kin had shared his magic between Sky House and the Villa Formosa, building the most beautiful tapestry of gardens in the colony. It was, he would say with contentment, also his last. Ben had given him a corner plot of land where he and his family could be buried.

Ben had not yet fetched Ah-Ho and the servants from Sky House, wishing to give Li-Xia time to adjust to the newness and opulence of her surroundings without interference. Li was grateful for this, sharing his pleasure in showing her around the large and airy rooms, their lofty ceilings illuminated by chandeliers of Belgian crystal, their walls hung with tapestries from Tibet and Mongolia and paintings by the greatest of Europe’s marine artists. The dining room sat twenty around a mammoth table of bird’s-eye maple with twenty green leather chairs. Paneled walls opened onto the breathtaking sweep of the ocean terrace.

Ben’s study had been reconstructed identically to that of Sky House, the vast fir desk in position, every picture, every item and memento in its
proper place. Even the magnificent fireplace had been rebuilt in smallest detail.

“This room and its contents are a monument to my life. Everything of importance to me begins and ends at this desk and among these things.” He laughed lightheartedly, holding out his hand to her. “I sometimes thought I had the perfect life, believed my glass to be filled to the brim.” He pressed his lips to the palm of her hand and drew her close. “I know now, it has always been half empty.” As he led her onto the terrace, its luminous expanse skimmed by salt airs off the bay, Li had never seen him quite so carefree.

Li was already overwhelmed by the magnificence that surrounded her when Ben pretended a second’s remorse. “There did not seem to be room enough for your ancestors,” he said in a vaguely businesslike manner. “It seemed to me that only farmers and those of little means would share their earthly domain with those who dwell in the afterlife.” His grin broke through. “So I have given them a house of their own, which I hope will have your approval and the blessings of the Fish.” He led her across the terrace to a wall of aged stone, almost hidden by a living screen of sacred black bamboo. Through its arched entrance stood a Buddhist shrine, its doors covered in shining gold leaf. The light green tiles of its circular roof matched those of the villa itself, sweeping upward like waves on a windy sea, their crest surmounted by a large ball of crystal held in the claws of twin dragons.

“It was designed by a master of feng shui for the earth’s energies to gather here.” Ben spoke with deep respect. “He said it is a pinnacle of light in the spirit world, and awaits the occupation of your honorable ancestors.”

It took Li a moment to absorb what stood before her. “I shall call it the Temple of Pai-Ling,” she breathed. “May she find eternal rest here and watch over us forever.”

He gave her a silver key, closing her fingers around it. “Hide the key where only you will find it. Not even I need know its secret place. When you have spoken with those you love, I have a guest I would like you to meet. He awaits us in the study.”

The key turned easily in the lock, the door opening smoothly at her touch. A single shard of light lanced through the crystal dome to throw a pool of radiance upon the figure of Kuan-Yin, the goddess of mercy.

The guest Ben had mentioned came in the quiet, portly person of Sir George Chinnery, the celebrated painter of portraits. There were few dignitaries in the colony, from the governor and his wife to those wealthy enough to afford the artist’s outrageous fees, who had not sat for Sir George. Almost every day for a month, Ben and Li posed for several hours on the ocean terrace, she in her favorite cheongsam of crocus yellow, and Ben in the uniform of a master mariner. The completed life-size portrait was magnificently framed and hung in the study behind Ben’s desk.

For many weeks, Li and Ben were attended only by the Fish and Ah-Kin and his family; the gardener’s son was hardworking and trustworthy and his wife a simple but excellent cook. A stone cottage in its own small compound had been built to house the Kin family, with quarters for other servants in a rear wing of the compound. The Fish had a separate room positioned close to the master suites in the eastern wing, adjacent to Li’s private rooms and guest quarters that would soon, it was hoped, be occupied by Winifred Bramble.

The Fish pleaded with Li not to let Ah-Ho return. She had learned that Ah-Ho had been using the network of the
sau-hai
sisterhood to probe into Li’s past, all too eager to blacken the name of the girl from Ten Willows and to revive the tale of the fox fairy.

“They say that only madness could have caused Di-Fo-Lo to drag you from the riverbed,” the Fish whispered. “Fools among them claim that what he fetched from the mud was a monster veiled by comeliness, a ghost to whom he has sold his soul.” She clasped her hands together in concern. “Ah-Geet, the driver, has said you went to him at his place of work and took his essence to feed your own. That he was defenseless against your fiendish charms.”

The Fish begged Li to inform the master before it was too late. “You
are mistress of this great house. This commands absolute respect. Do not show fear or uncertainty in this, or you will be defeated.”

The old woman raised a warning finger. “You are protected here; the master has made sure of it. But you will never be safe while she is under your roof. You must tell him that Ah-Ho and her people must be paid a big
lai-see
to be placed with another household. He has many friends who will welcome the head amah of Sky House.”

Li reached for her hand reassuringly. “If Ah-Ho is sent away, she will know it is my doing, and hate me even more. There is no escaping the
sau-hai
.” Not wanting to exacerbate the Fish’s growing fears, Li had decided not to tell her about the warning of the yellow talisman.

“As you say, there is little she can do within these walls. It is better to face a viper in the open than in the bush. I will see that she is given all face, her money increased and her position unquestioned. In time, I will gain her trust and perhaps her respect. It is the best way; I am sure of it.”

Seeing that the Fish was not convinced, Li felt less confident than she sounded. The old one did even not seem to hear her. “The immortal,” she croaked huskily, “he too saw danger in the sticks. He spoke of betrayal, an assassin who shadows your door. You must tell the truth of Ah-Geet to Master Ben, or the driver will destroy you.”