"Our picture?"
"Yes, you remember the funny Italian who arrived on the last mail ship from Hong Kong for a season, he makes them, he guarantees we will look very handsome!"
Most of Malcolm's concern had left him and he felt all of her presence, doting on her, even though he had seen her an hour ago--coffee in his suite at eleven, a habit she had instituted and he enjoyed immensely. Over the last two or three weeks her loving disposition seemed to him to have blossomed even more though she spent much of her time riding, or at archery, or piano lessons, or planning soirees, and at her journal and letter writing--a way of life for all of them. But every moment she was with him she was as attentive and tender as any woman could be. His love and his need for her grew daily, overwhelming him with its power.
"Lunch is at one, darling, it's just after twelve," he said, and as much as he didn't want her to leave added, "Will you give us a few minutes?"
"Of course." With her grace, she seemed to dance over to him and kissed him and went to her suite next door. Her perfume lingered as a delicious memory.
His fingers trembled, breaking the last seal.
Inside were three letters. Two from his mother, one for him, one for Jamie. The third letter was from Gordon Chen, their compradore and his uncle.
"Here," he said, handing Jamie his letter, his heart beating furiously, wishing that Sheeling had not arrived. His two letters were burning his fingers.
"I'll leave you to it," Jamie said.
"No. Bad news need company." Malcolm looked up. "Open yours." Jamie obeyed and read rapidly. His face became red.
"Is it private, Jamie?"
"It says: "Dear Jamie"--that's the first time she's used the old way of writing me for a long time--"you may show this to my son, if you wish. I'm sending Albert MacStruan as soon as I can arrange it from our Shanghai office. You are to make him your deputy and teach him all you can about our entire Japanese operation, so that, unless two things happen, he can adequately take over from you when you leave Struan's. The first is that my son is in Hong Kong by Christmas. The second is that you accompany him."" Jamie stared at him helplessly. "That's it. Just a signature."
"That's not it," Malcolm said, his own face hot. "As soon as Albert arrives he can bloody go back."
"No harm in him staying a few days and letting him look over the place. He's a good fellow."
"Mother's... I never thought she could be so crueclass="underline" if I don't obey and kowtow, you get fired. Eh?" Malcolm's eyes strayed to his bureau. For the last few weeks he had made the immense effort to restrict his intake to once a day. Some days he had failed. "Laudanum in moderation, Malcolm," Dr. Babcott had said, "is a panacea for pain." He had insisted that Malcolm show him the medicine, not to take it away, just to check its contents. "This is fairly strong. Remember, it's not a cure and with some people it is addictive."
"Not with me. I need it for the pain. You stop the pain and I'll stop the medicine."
"Sorry, my friend, wish I could. Your internal organs were badly damaged, not too badly, thank God, but even so will take time to heal."
Too much time, Malcolm was thinking, is it worse than Babcott will admit? He looked at two letters reluctant to open them. Filthy of her to use Jamie as another cudgel.
"Rotten."
"She has certain rights," Jamie said.
"She's not tai-pan, I am. Father's will was clear." Malcolm's voice was dull, his thoughts untidy. "Guess old Uncle Sheeley was right, you have to earn that title, don't you?"
"You're tai-pan." It was said kindly though Jamie knew it was not true. "Strange he should bring up Orlov, haven't thought about him in years. Wonder what happened to him."
"Yes," Malcolm said absently. "Poor fellow was a marked man after he blew Wu Sung Choi's Number One Son out of the water. Orlov was stupid to go ashore alone in Macao. He must have been snatched by the White Lotus pirates. Macao's a deadly place, easy to go into China, and everywhere the White Lotus has spies. I'd hate to be on their marked list..." His voice trailed away.
He looked down at the letters, lost in thought.
Jamie waited. Then he said, "Give me a shout if I can help. I'll be going through the rest of the mail." He left.
Malcolm did not hear the door close. There was the "I love you" postscript to his mother's letter, so no secret message: My dearest but prodigal son, I had planned to arrive with Dancing Cloud but decided against it at the last minute as Duncan was poorly and has the croup again. Perhaps what I have to say is better in writing then there can be no mistake.
I've received your ill advised letters about what you will and will not do, about your "engagement,"
Jamie McFay, Miss Richaud etc.--and about the five thousand rifles. I immediately wrote and cancelled the extravagant order.
The time has come for open decisions. Since you are not here and will not do as I ask, I will make them. For your private knowledge it is my right to do so.
When your father was dying, poor man, there was no time to wait for your return so, almost with his last breath, he made me de facto tai-pan according to all the provisions in Dirk's Will and Legacy--some of them terrible--all of which have to be accepted, before God, sight unseen and must be kept secret from tai-pan to tai-pan. At the time it was our expectation that I would pass the mantle to you on your immediate return. One of Dirk's Laws lays down: It is the duty of the tai-pan to swear absolute belief in the integrity of his successor. I cannot do this for you at the moment. All this, and the following, is again for your private knowledge--it would hurt Struan's for it to be made public, so destroy the letter after reading it.
By today's mail to Scotland, I have offered the post of tai-pan to your cousin Lochlin Struan, Uncle Robb's son, with four provisos: first that he comes at once to Hong Kong and spends three months in training here--as you know he is well versed in our company operations, better than you as far as Great Britain is concerned, though you are far and away better fitted and better trained; second, he agrees to keep this all secret; third, at the end of the trial period, before God, I will make the final choice between the two of you, my decision of course to be binding; fourth, that if you come to your senses, he agrees that I must choose you but he will be next, should you fail to have sons, Duncan to be after him.
Coming to your senses, my son, means returning to Hong Kong at once, the very latest by Christmas Day, alone but for Jamie McFay (and Dr. Hoag, should you wish to have his company) to discuss your future plans, to take up pressing duties and prepare for the position you have trained all your life for. Should you prove to be satisfactory, I will make you tai-pan on your twenty-first birthday, May 21/.
I have shown this to Gordon Chen and asked him to comment where necessary--our compradore must, MUST, by Dirk's Law, be a party to the handing over of power. yr devoted mother. P.s. I love you and an added P.p.s.: Thank you for your news from Parliament about more of their usual stupidity (via the curious channel of our archenemy Greyforth. Beware of him, he's up to no good but then you know that better than I). Yes we had heard the rumours, the Governor still denies any knowledge. I had already written to our Parliamentarians on the first rumour telling them to stop the nonsense if it was true, and to Bengal forewarning them. In response to your letter I have written again. It really is time you came home to apply yourself to your duty and our mounting problems.
"Duty!" Malcolm shouted at the wall, balled the letter and hurled it at it, hurting himself with his violence. He stumbled to his feet, lurched to his bureau. The little bottle contained his evening dose. He drained it, smashed it on the oak top cursing, and almost fell as he groped to his chair.
"She can't! Can't! That... that bitch can't do that... can't! "Go back alone" only means without Angel Histo discuss"... I won't and she won't interfere..." and he continued to half think and half speak imprecations until the opiate entered his bloodstream and began its deadly solace.