Tillman sipped the sherry. “Shevaun’s a good cook.”
“I’ll take a loaf a day,” Struan said. He sat in the big leather chair and lifted his glass. “Long life!”
“And to you.”
“Your house is lovely, Tai-Pan.”
“Thank you. When it’s finished I’d like to show you over it.” Struan knew that she was curious to find out whether the rumor about May-may was true. “Aristotle said you were poorly the last time I saw him.”
“It was just a chill,” she said.
“Are you having another portrait done?”
“I’m considering it,” she said, unruffled. “Dear Mr. Quance, I admire his paintings so much. Uncle and I are trying to persuade him to try a season in Washington. I think he’d make a fortune.”
“In that case I’d say you’ll have a visitor.” Struan wondered if the innocence in her face was assumed or real. He glanced at Tillman. “How’s business?”
“Excellent, thank you. Jeff’s coming back from Canton this afternoon. Things are booming in the Settlement. Will you be going back there?”
“In a few days.”
“I hear
Blue Cloud and
Gray Witch are neck and neck. One of our ships, beating up from Singapore, passed them two days out, going at full speed. Best of luck.”
While the two of them chatted politely about business matters, neither really interested in the other’s opinion, Shevaun sipped her sherry and studied Struan. He was dressed in a light woolen suit, well tailored and elegant.
You’re quite a man, she thought; you may not know it, Dirk Struan, but I’m going to marry you. I wonder what your Oriental mistress is like; I feel her presence in the house. Mistress or not, I’m the girl for you. And when I’m your wife you won’t need to stray for a long time. A very long time.
“Well, I think we’ll be going,” Tillman said, and got up. “Again, sorry to arrive uninvited.”
“You’re always welcome.”
“Oh, by the way, Tai-Pan,” Shevaun said, “I understand ladies aren’t invited to the prizefight this afternoon. Would you put a guinea on the navy man for me?”
“Good God, Shevaun,” Tillman said, shocked. “You mustn’t say such things. Most unladylike!”
“And you’re most dishonest,” she said, “and old-fashioned. You men enjoy a prizefight, why shouldn’t we? You men enjoy a gamble, why shouldn’t we?”
“A good question, Shevaun.” Struan was amused by Tillman’s discomfort.
“After all, it’s an Oriental custom.” She looked innocently at Struan. “I hear the Chinese gamble all the time, particularly the women.”
Struan blandly ignored the remark.
“Gambling’s a bad habit,” Tillman said.
“I quite agree, Uncle. How much have you wagered?”
“That has nothing to do with it.”
Struan laughed. “With your permission, Wilf, we’ll indulge her. A guinea on the navy?”
“Thank you, Tai-Pan,” she said before Tillman could answer, and she held out her gloved hand to Struan. “It’s just the principle. You’re most understanding.”
He let her hand rest in his a moment longer than necessary, then kissed it, fascinated by the thought of taming her, and escorted them to the door. “See you both this evening.”
“If I don’t win that prize, I’ll be livid. And also in debtor’s prison.”
“You won’t, Shevaun, but your poor long-suffering father and uncle may be,” Tillman said.
When they had gone, Struan returned to May-may’s quarters.
She stared at him coldly.
“What’s amiss?”
“That mealymouthed godrotting doxy’s after you. That’s wat’s amiss.”
“Will you na be so foolish and will you na swear! How’d you see her, anyway?”
“Huh! Have I no eyes? No nose? Wat for should I pore over plans of house, eh, hour after godrot hour? So it’s to be planned so I can see who comes here and who passes by without seen. Huh! That maggoty-drawers dung-heap doxy’s after you to marriage.”
“To marry,” he corrected.
“Kiss the hand, huh? Wat for you no kiss my hand, eh?” She slammed the teapot down. “Wat for you linger with cow eyes, hey? Ayeee yah!”
“You ayeee yah yoursel’. And one more remark like that and I’ll paddle you. You want to be paddled?”
“Mens!” She tossed her head. “Mens!”
“ ‘Men’—not ‘mens.’ How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Men!” May-may shakily poured herself some tea, then slammed the cup down and got up. “ ‘I hear Chinese mens gamble hugely, partikilly the womens,’ ” she said, mimicking Shevaun, lifting her breasts to give them size and waggling her backside. “And you sats there and eat up her busums. Wat for my busums you no stare at, heya?”
Struan quietly put down his teacup and rose. May-may retreated to the other side of the table.
“I na say nothing, never mind,” she said hastily.
“That’s what I thought.” He calmly finished his tea and she watched him without moving, but ready to run.
He set down the cup. “Come over here.”
“Huh! I for no trust you when your eyes speak green fire.”
“
Come over here. Please,” he added as sweetly.
She was almost cross-eyed with rage, and she seemed to him like one of the Siamese cats that he had seen in Bangkok. And just as spiteful, he thought.
She cautiously came over to him, ever ready to retreat or hack with her nails. He gently patted her cheek, and turned for the door. “There’s a good girl.”
“Tai-Pan!” May-may imperiously held out her hand to be kissed.
Restraining a smile, he walked back and gallantly kissed her hand. Then he spun her around before she knew what was happening and slapped her smartly on the backside. She gasped and fought out of his hands and jumped for the safety of the table. Once safe, she hurled a cup at him. It shattered against the wall near his ear and she picked up another.
“Dinna throw it!”
She put it down.
“That’s a good lass. One is fine. Two extravagant.” He turned for the door.
“I only say you to protect you,” she shouted. “Protect from mealymouthed, ugly, old cow-busumed doxy!”
“Thank you, May-may,” he said, closing the door after him. He pretended to walk down the corridor, then listened in the silence, trying not to laugh. The cup crashed against the other side of the door. The sound was followed by a stream of curses and Ah Sam’s name and more curses.
Struan cheerfully tiptoed away.
The whole of Happy Valley was pulsating with activity, and as Struan walked down the slight rise from his house toward the foreshore, he felt not a little pride. There were the beginnings of many buildings. The biggest two were the huge three-story factories of The Noble House and Brock and Sons that fronted on Queen’s Road—the vast buildings containing warehouses, offices and living quarters, favored by the China traders and similar to those in the Canton Settlement. At present they were just shells of peripheral bamboo scaffoldings soaring skyward, hundreds of Chinese laborers swarming them. And around these dominating structures were dozens of other buildings, dwellings and wharves.
In the distance, halfway to Glessing’s Point, Struan could see that work had already begun on the dockyard; a never-ending stream of coolies was dumping stones and rocks to form the first of the deep-water wharves. Opposite the harbor master’s small house, complete but for its roof, were the stone walls of the jail, three-quarters finished. And beyond the dockyard was the first of the army’s barracks and its scaffoldings.