Chapter Sixteen
White men smelled different than Chinese.
They ate different foods, they bathed with different soaps, and they often shaved off their beards.
Yihui had hated the scent of them on the boat, but the sailors were coarse men who lived rough.
Thankfully, the sun and wind had eased the shock of such unfamiliar smells, and in time she had come to accept the different scents.
Then Max carried her into his bath. He had been fresh from his own toilette and so she knew the scent of him as it mixed with orange flower and rosemary.
She pulled herself higher on his body and pressed her face into his neck.
She felt the strength in his arms as he carried her, and the caution in his step as he maneuvered blindfolded to the bath.
Thankfully, there was a maid there to direct him and help her.
Still, she felt like a precious vase in his arms where any misstep would shatter her into a thousand pieces. And yet he held her securely.
Once at the bath, she was reluctant to let him go, but so very grateful to sink into the water. It had been months since she could wash from head to toe, and the luxury of it left her speechless with gratitude.
The tub was sized for a large man which allowed her to stretch out her legs.
Any other time she would wiggle her toes as she luxuriated in the water, but she knew better than to test her broken feet.
Instead, she inhaled the scent of the water—Max’s scent—as he backed away.
A maid hastily moved the screen to block his view of her, but it did not stop her from looking at the details of his bedroom.
It was not very masculine in décor. The wallpaper was soft blue, and matching pillows were set in two wood chairs by the fire.
The rug was thick enough that she could see the wet imprint of his two feet and a pair of slippers that had been discarded near a wardrobe.
But what struck her was that everywhere she looked had something with words upon it.
Several newspapers were scattered about, all turned to different pages.
She saw sheets with neat rows and books bound in leather.
Someone had tried to neaten the piles, but just as clearly, someone else—Max—had been careless with where he set them.
That spoke to her of untold wealth. So many books littered the room as if they were the easiest thing to come by.
And even more startling, papers with scribbles on them, notes and thoughts, perhaps.
Max was a man of learning, and she could not help but stare in frustration.
It was all in English. She could learn so much about what he wanted if only she could understand what he read.
Meanwhile, Max seemed loath to leave her alone.
Rather than depart, it sounded like he dropped onto his bed and wanted to chat.
“I’m very impressed by your command of English. How did you learn it?”
Was this usual? To talk to a woman as she bathed? She looked at the maid who was there to help her. The woman didn’t appear upset by Max’s presence.
“Oh, um, do you mind if we chat?” he asked, as if sensing her awkwardness. “I thought we could get to know one another better.”
“I am happy to speak,” she said. It wasn’t a lie. Awkward as this might be, she wanted to know more about him. “Canton is a city of many languages. I learned as much as I could. It was a way to help my father.”
“He was a doctor?”
“He made medicines in tea. Customers explained their pain. He made the right tea.”
“An apothecary then.”
She didn’t know this word, so she repeated it as a way to learn. “Apothecary.”
“Yes. Someone who makes medicines. So you learned English from your customers.”
“My father did not have many English customers, but he always wanted to expand. So I learned as much as I could. I thought I would be a help to him always, even after I married.” She’d never guessed that her ability to speak some English would be the reason the Wong patriarch wanted her.
“I learned the most English on the boat.”
“Did you speak to the crew? The sailors?”
“The other girl became sick with a fever. I spoke with the surgeon. I told him the medicine to give us.” As she spoke, she grabbed hold of the soap.
It would not be prudent to linger in the water just because he remained nearby chatting with her.
She lathered the soap between her hands, smiling as she inhaled his orange flower and rosemary scent.
Then she was handed a washcloth and began to clean herself.
“There were other girls?” he asked.
“One other. Also a bribe.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died,” she said. Then because she did not want to remember, she flattened herself in the tub, pulling her head under water. She scrubbed her scalp and ignored everything for as long as she could hold her breath. Or almost that long because she wanted to talk with him some more.
She pushed herself upright, her thoughts on him.
And because of her inattention, she accidentally banged her foot.
The sharp stab of pain made her cry out.
Idiot! She clenched her knee tight to her chest, letting her foot dangle free as it throbbed.
She shut her eyes and her mouth, and in so doing, she trapped the anguish inside her chest. But he must have heard her.
He must have known because a moment later, she could hear his sharp demand.
“What happened? Are you hurt?”
Her feet were broken. Of course, she was hurt.
“I was clumsy,” she said. And she’d been thinking about him.
“You need help. Should I call someone? Who is there with you?”
“I am well,” Yihui said, but her words were covered by the maid.
“It’s Millie, my lord. I…um…she looks well enough.”
“She doesn’t sound well, Millie,” he snapped. “You are there to help her. Do I need to find someone more capable?”
“No, my lord!”
No, no! She would need to make friends with the servants. She could already see the girl’s face had gone white with fear.
“I am well,” she repeated, and this time she didn’t lie. Her foot had stopped the worst of its throbbing. “I was trying to wash my hair and…” She didn’t have the words to explain. She smiled at the servant. “Is that pitcher used to pour water over me?”
“Y-yes, miss.”
“I will ask for it soon.”
“Yes, miss.”
She lathered up the soap and applied it to her hair.
Normally, she would be busy thinking so many things while she did this.
Today, she only thought of him on the other side of the screen.
Of why he would linger to speak with her.
Did he not have other tasks? The piles of books would suggest he had studies to complete, but perhaps he was tired of them.
“What are the books you read?” she asked.
“This and that,” he answered. “Whatever strikes my fancy. A great many historical accounts. Prinny loves it when I compare something he does to some figure from the past. A great emperor or explorer or scientist. I am constantly looking for little bits of their lives to use to flatter him.”
“You do not sound happy with the task.” She was fishing for information.
The more she understood who he was, the better she could fit herself to his needs.
Long enough for her feet to heal. Now that the fever was gone, she would need to bind her feet so that the bones set correctly.
Not in the way of a Chinese princess, but in the way of Emmaline, who was allowed to dance and run.
“I like the subject matter well enough. It’s the constant flattery that wears on me. Prinny has great vision, but I fear his vanity needs too much attention.” She heard the rustle of cloth as he moved on the bed. “I am speaking out of turn. I have utmost faith in the prince.”
She didn’t understand his last words, but she could tell from his tone that he was not speaking his true thoughts.
Meanwhile, her eyes were beginning to sting from the soap, so she gestured to the maid. “Millie? Will you pour?”
“Yes, miss.”
The stream of water was pure delight. She fanned out her hair to let the water run through. She must have made a sound. A murmur, perhaps, of appreciation because Max spoke a moment later.
“You sound better.”
“Millie is helping me.”
“Good, good.”
There was a moment of silence, then a creak of bedding, perhaps, or clothing. He was restless, moving about his side of the room.
“I know so little about life in your country,” he said. “Do you bathe like this?”
What a question to ask. Did the Chinese bathe? But then, she had not expected such luxury here in the land of the white ape, for that is what the English were called by those who did not like them.
“A bath is required of all citizens every five days. Many go more often.”
“Required?” There was shock in his voice. “By the government?”
“Yes. Every fifth day government workers are excused. It is their bathing day.”
“That’s extraordinary. And do you use big tubs like mine?”
“There are bath houses with great pools in Canton. In every city.”
“Roman baths, then. Extraordinary.”
“Is there nothing like that here?”
“Of course, there are a few, and the city of Bath is famous for it.”
She looked at the large tub and again recognized the wealth that supported him. “Then I am grateful for the water.”
He chuckled, a sweet mellow sound. “Fear not. In this house, we also require regular bathing.”
She said nothing, her thoughts turning. She knew so little of the English people.
She had not seen any sailors bathing and had assumed that none of the English did.
Obviously, that wasn’t true. She would need to learn as much as possible before she left here.
And since Max was in a talkative mood, she would do well to ask her questions.
But she wasn’t exactly sure where to begin.
“What do you do?” she asked, her ability with English failing her. She didn’t know if her question was insulting or not. “What is the… What eats your time?”
“A great deal of nonsense,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m a courtier to the prince. I am his companion in whatever he chooses to do.”
“A worthy task,” she said because that is what she would say at home. But his answer was not nearly as assured.
“Worthy or not, it is how I spend my days. Or rather my nights. Prinny’s fascinated with China these days, and since I’ve always been equally fascinated, he’s pulled me into his circle to entertain him with tales. I’ve run out of things to say, so I hope you will talk to me about China.”
“I will answer whatever I can.”
He clapped his hands with clear glee. “Excellent! And in return, I will show you as much of London as you care to see. And if you are up to it, perhaps we can even visit Bath.”
He sounded delighted with the idea, and she gaped at the screen in response. What man relished showing a servant around his city? But of course, that was old thinking. She was no longer the lowly daughter of an apothecary. She was a concubine and—if appearances held true—a favored one.
What a change in fortune for her! A concubine had luxuries and sometimes her own wealth.
But often, her freedoms were severely restricted, and her behavior was scrutinized by everyone.
Better to be a servant, someone no one cared about so long as the work was done.
Much easier for a servant to disappear when it was time to strike out on her own.
But she could not regret her connection to Max.
If she were to be his wife, then she would consider that role.
Indeed, part of her was very excited by it.
But she knew that men could be fickle in their favors.
Best to act as a dutiful concubine, and then, when ready, she would disappear.
Pretend, pretend, pretend with Max, and then escape.
Now that she had done her duty to her family, she was determined to have no obligations to anyone except herself. That was a future that no man, not even Max, could take away.