Chapter 29
Thomas Stanton’s funeral took place just three days after he died, at Bubbling Well Cemetery. Rain fell in dense sheets as
gusts from the north chilled the air. Caroline pulled the fur scarf a little tighter around her neck. Standing under a pair
of large umbrellas held by his two servants, the priest spoke a hasty service. Almost as soon as he mumbled the final prayers,
the mourners began leaving, first offering quick words of condolence to Caroline and Mason before hurrying away to their vehicles.
Dr. Ellis walked with Caroline and Mason to their motorcar. “He should’ve been able to overcome any parasites,” the doctor
said, his voice plaintive. “He was getting better at first. His decline was so sudden.”
“You’re worried that I blame you,” Caroline said, “but there’s no need, Doctor. I know you did your best.” Beside her, Mason
stayed silent.
Mason climbed in after Caroline with a curt nod to the doctor, who stood forlorn under his dripping umbrella as their car
pulled away. Caroline looked out the window to see that Lisan and Chin were getting into her car. She had insisted they take
her car rather than rickshaws to the cemetery.
“Thank you for not holding a wake, Uncle Mason,” Caroline said, turning back to face him. “I appreciate it. I’m exhausted from everything this past week and I couldn’t deal with guests, no matter how sympathetic.” And they’d lost most of their servants.
“We’ll invite some friends over another time,” he said, “for a quiet and private event to remember him by. Shall we lunch
together before the lawyers come?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. She didn’t want to spend more time than necessary with Mason. But she was still feeling her way.
The things she had to do now that she was a widow. The threat of Masako Kyo. Whether Mason would try to subvert the terms
of Thomas’s will. It seemed easier to agree for now.
“Good. Very good.” Mason’s eyes gleamed, and she wished she hadn’t agreed.
The two vehicles reached Lennox Manor at the same time. Chin rushed out of the other automobile and hurried up the steps,
unlocking the front door to hold it open for Caroline and Mason. Caroline asked Chin to serve lunch in an hour and said nothing
more as he took their coats. Mason lumbered up the staircase and turned toward the east wing. No doubt to drink unobserved.
On the way up to her room, Caroline merely asked Lisan, “Who is left?”
“The remaining house servants went while we were at the funeral,” Lisan said. “The cooks are gone; the gardener is still here,
he’s just gone out for a bit this morning. And Chin isn’t going anywhere.” Her tone changed ever so slightly at this last
bit of information.
“Chin is so loyal to Mason,” Caroline murmured, her face pale and haggard under the black veil. “I’m going to lie down, Lisan.
Come and wake me in a half hour. We need to talk.”
But she didn’t sleep. She lay on her bed, eyes wide open.
She’d told Lisan that she wanted to rest, but it was really to get some time alone.
She didn’t want Lisan fussing over her, that sweet face all anxious and attentive.
Nor did she wish to get into a conversation with Mason, whose manner toward her had changed.
Was it her imagination or was there something about his attentions that warranted this uneasy feeling? Over the past two days
since Thomas died, Mason had become more overbearing, autocratic even, as though he owned her. Thomas was barely in the ground
and he was already trying to assert himself.
She had always known she couldn’t count on Mason to act in her best interests. Closing her eyes, Caroline ran through the
events of the morning searching for insights. No, farther back. Mason’s behavior had changed at some point before Thomas’s
funeral. It had been the day before the funeral. Caroline sighed and stretched her limbs, turned onto her side to look out
the window. The rain-spattered glass obscured any view of the gardens. She was no longer in any doubt that something was going
on with Mason. But what?
There was a discreet knock. “Mrs. Stanton?” Lisan’s voice called softly from the door. “You asked me to come get you thirty
minutes before lunch.”
“Come in, Lisan,” she called, getting up and going to the vanity. Lisan entered and, silently taking the brush from her, began
brushing out her hair.
“Chin has laid out two place settings in the breakfast room.” Lisan began twisting her hair up, anchoring the chignon with
pins. “He’s heated up the soup but the rest of the meal is cold. I’m afraid it’s not the usual because the cook has left.”
“I’m not hungry, and Uncle Mason is only interested in what’s to drink.” Caroline stared at her reflection in the mirror.
A little pinched, but then, she had just lost her husband. Everyone knew she had been by his bedside for days, worrying over
every symptom. “It’s fine, Lisan. Let’s not worry about the servant problem for the next day or so.”
Lisan gave her a hesitant smile. “If you don’t need anything else, Mrs. Stanton, I’ll go deal with the correspondence that’s come in today. There are many letters of condolence.”
“Not yet, Lisan,” Caroline said. “I’ve made up my mind and there’s something I want to talk about again. Do you remember me
saying that, should anything happen to Thomas, I wanted to travel? For both of us to travel?”
“Yes, Mrs. Stanton,” Lisan said, “and I thanked you for the offer, but asked you to think it over when you were not so distraught.”
“I’ve thought it over, Lisan,” Caroline said. “I’ve decided to leave Lennox Manor, leave Shanghai. If for nothing else, I
need to leave Shanghai for my own safety. Uncle Mason has become . . . overly protective. My offer stands. If you come with
me, we can travel the world together. You’ll have money, you can leave anytime you choose.”
She waited as Lisan took a deep breath. “Mrs. Stanton, I will think on it, I promise. I’m as tired as you are of other people
making decisions about my life too. When do you plan on leaving?”
“Tonight, Lisan,” she said, “tonight. Mason’s starting to think he can make my decisions for me, take over my life now that
Thomas is gone. He can’t, of course, but it’s making me nervous. So first, I need to get away from this house. I’ll move into
the Astor House Hotel. You must come with me—even if you decide not to come traveling with me, you can’t stay here alone with
Mason if I’m not here.”
Lisan looked startled. “Yes, of course, Mrs. Stanton. You’re right. I should leave as well.”
“Now, please bring down a couple of my valises and pack them,” she said. “Just enough things for a few days. Mason and I are
going to have lunch and then the lawyers are coming. Have Chin set up the dining room for a meeting.”
“Yes, of course,” Lisan said. “I will get your luggage from the attic. But I should tell you that both chauffeurs resigned while you were resting. Once they’d done their duty for the funeral.”
“I know how to drive. We’ll take my car into Shanghai,” Caroline said, “and we’ll leave after the meeting with the lawyers.
I suspect Mr. Burnett will drink heavily after the meeting and never notice our escape.”
Caroline and Mason spoke very little over lunch: asparagus soup and a platter of cold ham with boiled potatoes, a small dish
of pickled beets. Chin poured wine and then more wine for Mason. Caroline tried to catch Chin’s eye, make him slow down, but
Mason snarled.
“Bring that claret over, boy,” he said, “can’t you see my glass is empty?”
Chin looked pointedly at Caroline as he tipped the bottle into Mason’s wineglass, then shrugged. He cleared the table, then
poured coffee from the sideboard, the metal pot keeping hot over a small spirit lamp. He served them stewed plums, then bowed
and silently left the dining room, carrying the tray of used plates.
“After all these years in China,” Mason said, “I still can’t get used to those servants and their cloth shoes. Always makes
me feel they’re sneaking around, spying on us.”
“It’s rather nice, I think,” Caroline said, “to have such quiet, unobtrusive housekeeping.”
“Well, my dear,” Mason said, wiping his mouth, “we should discuss family finances.”
“I don’t know how you can talk about money, Uncle Mason,” she said, “when Thomas is barely in the ground. And shouldn’t we
wait for the lawyers?”
“There are some things that can’t wait, unfortunately,” he said. “Thomas was not just my nephew, he was also my business partner. For the sake of Burnett and Stanton Ltd., after his will is read we must execute on it as soon as possible.”
“You mean, for the sake of your debts,” Caroline said. “I can’t see you carrying on the railway venture without Thomas. You
haven’t the engineering expertise, and face it—your business reputation is dire. No one will invest in the railway now; it
was Thomas who brought credibility to the venture.”
“Caroline, you speak like a member of the board,” he said, and belched. “Little did I know when I urged Thomas to marry you
that you were more than a pretty face and a fat inheritance. It all began with Andrew Grey, you know.”
It was as though a cold hand clutched at her throat. “Really? That architect?” she said.
“Yes, yes,” Mason said, his expression unreadable. “We met at my club.”
Newly arrived in Shanghai, eager to talk up his New York connections and find himself some work, Grey befriended Mason. The
two soon fell into the habit of playing cards together. Grey often boasted of the invitations he received to attend all the
noteworthy events of New York’s social season. One he’d mentioned was a party at the Dominics’, where he’d met, very briefly,
the Dominics’ ward, Caroline Vessey. She was plain and awkward, Grey said, absolutely unmarriageable except for the fact that
she would inherit a fortune. But the Dominics were extremely protective of her and wary of fortune hunters.