"Be serious. Angelique, listen to me, I'm serious!"
Oh but I am, she thought, delighted that he was smiling now. A gentle kiss but this time on the lips, full of promise. "There, Monsieur, now don't taunt this defenseless young lady."
"I'm not taunting you, I swear to God.
Will-you-marry-me?" Strong words but he did not have the strength to sit up yet or reach out to bring her closer. "Please."
Her eyes still teased. "Perhaps, when you're better--and only if you obey me implacable, cherish me..."
"Implacably, if that's the word you want."
"Ah yes, pardon. Implacably... etceteras." Again the lovely smile. "Perhaps yes, Monsieur Struan, but first we must get to know each other, then we must agree to an engagement, and then, Monsieur le tai-pan de la Noble Maison, who knows?"
Joy possessed all of him. "Then it's yes?"
Her eyes watched him, making him wait. With all the tenderness she could muster, she said, "I will consider it seriously--but first you must promise to get well quickly."
"I will, I swear it."
Again she dried her eyes. "Now, Malcolm, please read your mother's letter, and I'll sit with you."
His heart was beating strongly and the elation he felt took away the pain. But his fingers were not so obedient and he had trouble breaking the seal. "Here, Angel, read it to me, will you please?"
At once she broke the seal and scanned the singular writing that was on the single page. ""My beloved son,"" she read aloud, ""With great sadness I must tell you your father is dead and now our future rests with you. He died in his sleep, poor man, the funeral will be in three days, the dead must cherish the dead and we, the living, must continue the struggle while we have life. Your father's Will confirms you as heir, and tai-pan, but to be legal the succession has to be done with a ceremony witnessed by me and Compradore Chen in accordance with your beloved grandfather's Legacy.
Settle our Japanese interests as we discussed and return as quickly as you can. yr devoted Mother."" Tears filled her eyes again because of a sudden fantasy that she was the mother writing to her son.
"That's all? No postscript?"
"No, cheri, nothing more, just "your devoted mother." How brave of her. Would that I could be so brave."
Oblivious to everything except the portent of these happenings, she gave him the letter and went to the window that looked out on to the harbor and, drying her eyes, opened it. The air was fresh and took away the sickroom smell. What to do now?
Help him to hurry back to Hong Kong away from this foul place. Wait... will his mother favor our marriage? I don't know. Would I if I was her? I know she didn't like me, the few times we met, so tall and distant, though Malcolm said she was that way with everyone outside family.
"Wait till you get to know her Angelique, she's so wonderful and strong..."
Behind her the door opened and Ah Tok came in without knocking, a small tea tray in one hand.
"Neh hoh mah, Mass'r," good day, she said with a beam, showing the two gold teeth of which she was very proud. "Mass'r slepp good heya?"
In fluent Cantonese, Malcolm said, "Stop speaking gibberish."
"Ayeeyah!" Ah Tok was Struan's personal amah who had looked after him since he was born and a law unto herself. She hardly acknowledged Angelique, her concentration on Struan. Stout, strong and fifty-six, wearing the traditional white smock and black trousers, the long queue hanging down her back signified that she had chosen amah as her profession and had therefore sworn to remain chaste all her life and so never to have children of her own that might divert her loyalty. Two Cantonese manservants followed with hot towels and water to bathe him.
Loudly, she ordered them to close the door.
"Mass'r bar'f, heya?" she said pointedly to Angelique.
"I will come back later, cheri," the girl said. Struan did not answer, just nodded and smiled back then stared again at the letter, lost in thought. She left her door ajar. Ah Tok grunted disapprovingly, shut it firmly, told the other two to hurry up with his bed bath, and handed him the tea.
"Thank you, Mother," he said, in Cantonese, using the customary honorific for such a special person who had cherished and carried and guarded him when defenseless.
"Bad news, my son," Ah Tok said--the tidings had rushed through the Chinese community.
"Bad news." He sipped the tea. It tasted very good.
"After you have bathed you will feel better and then we can talk. Your Honorable Father was overdue his appointment with the gods. He's there now and you are tai-pan so the bad has become good. Later this morning I'll bring some extra-special tea I've bought for you that will cure all your ills."
"Thank you."
"You owe me a tael of silver for the medicine."
"A fiftieth part."
"Ayeeyah, at least half."
"Ayeeyah, a twentieth part, Mother." With hardly any thought he bargained automatically, but not unkindly, "and if you argue I'll remind you you owe me six months wages paid in advance for your grandmother's funeral--her second."
One of the servants chortled behind her but she feigned not to notice. "If you say so, Tai-pan." She used the title delicately, the first time she had ever said it to him, watching him, missing nothing, then snapped at the two men sponging and cleaning him carefully and efficiently: "Hurry up with your work. Does my son, the tai-pan, have to endure your clumsy ministrations all day?"
"Ayeeyah," one of them unwisely muttered back.
"Take care, you motherless fornicator," she said sweetly in a dialect Struan did not understand.
"Just get on with it and if you nick my son while shaving I'll put the Evil Eye on you.
Treat my son like Imperial jade or your fruit will be pulverized--and don't listen to your betters!"
"Betters? Ayeeyah, old woman, you come from Ning Tok, a turtle dung village famous only for farts."
"A tael of silver says this civilized person can whip you five out of seven times at mahjong this evening."
"Done!" the man said truculently even though Ah Tok was an accomplished player.
"What's all that about?" Struan said.
"Servants talk, nothing important, my son."
When they had finished they gave him a fresh crisp night shirt. "Thank you," Struan said to them, greatly refreshed. They bowed politely and were gone.
"Ah Tok, bolt her door, quietly."
She obeyed. Her sharp ears heard the rustle of skirts in the adjoining room and she resolved to increase her vigilance. Nosey, foreign devil toad belly whore with her Jade Gate so hungry for the Master a civilized person can almost hear it salivating...
"Light the candle for me please."
"Eh? Are your eyes hurting you, my son?"
"No, nothing like that. There are safety matches in the bureau." Safety matches, the recent Swedish patent, were usually kept locked away as they were highly sought after, therefore had a ready sale and therefore had a habit of disappearing.
Petty theft was endemic in Asia. Uneasily she used one, not understanding why they would not light unless the side of their special box was struck.
He had explained why but she only muttered about more foreign devil magic.
"Where do you want the candle, my son?"
He pointed at the bedside table within easy reach. "Here. Now leave me for a little while."
"But, ayeeyah, we should talk, there is much to plan."
"I know. Just wait outside the door and keep everyone away until I call."
Grumbling she walked out. So much talk and bad news had exhausted him. Nonetheless, painfully he balanced the candle on the side of the bed, then lay back a moment.
Four years ago on his sixteenth birthday his mother had taken him to the Peak to speak privately: "Now you are old enough to learn some secrets of the Noble House. There will always be secrets. Some your father and I keep from you until you become tai-pan. Some I keep from him, and some from you.