It was dusk before she and Ah Sam and Lim Din were ready, and they were all exhausted with the drama and excitement of leaving. Coolies took the luggage away. Others waited patiently beside the closed sedan chaii that would carry her to the cutter.
May-may was heavily veiled. She stood momentarily at the gateway of the garden with Struan and looked back at her first house on Hong Kong. But for the bad feng shui—and the fever that was part of the feng shui—she would have been loath to depart.
The twilight was pleasant. A few mosquitoes whined about them. One settled on her ankle but she did not notice it.
The mosquito drank its fill, then flew away.
Struan went into the great cabin of the
White Witch. The Brocks were all waiting for him, except Lillibet who had already gone to bed. Culum was beside Tess.
“Evening,” Struan said. “Sarah sends her apologies. She’s na feeling well.”
“Welcome aboard,” Brock said, his voice rough and charged with worry, his face brooding.
“Well,” Struan said with a laugh, “this is nae way to start a happy occasion.”
“Baint the occasion, by God, as thee well knowed. We all be bankrupted—at least hurt terrible by godrotting malaria.”
“Aye,” Struan said. He smiled at Culum and Tess and, noting their disquiet, decided to tell them all the good news now. “I hear Longstaff’s ordering an abandonment of Queen’s Town,” he said nonchalantly.
“By blood of Christ!” Gorth exploded. “We can’t abandon. We be putting too much brass into land and buildings. We can’t abandon. Weren’t for thy godrotting picking of that cursed valley, we wouldn’t—”
“Hold thy tongue,” Brock said. He turned to Struan. “Thee stands to lose more’n us’n, by God, yet there thee be with smile on thy face. Why?”
“Father,” Tess said, terrified that anger would spoil their evening and the unbelievable acceptance of Culum, “can we have a drink? The champagne’s chilled and ready.”
“Yus, of course, Tess luv,” Brock said. “But dost thee understand wot Dirk’s sayed? We stand to lose a turr’ble sum of brass. If we’ve to abandon, then our future be black as pitch. And his too, by God.”
“The future of The Noble House’s white as the cliffs of Dover,” Struan said evenly. “Na only ours but yours too. Longstaff’s going to reimburse all of us for the money we laid out in Happy Valley. Every penny. In cash.”
“That baint possible!” Brock exclaimed.
“That’s a lie, by God!” Gorth said.
Struan turned on him. “A piece of advice, Gorth. Dinna call me a liar more than once.” Then he told them what Longstaff intended to do.
Culum was awed by the beauty of the arrangement. He saw clearly that though his father had never implied that he had influenced Longstaff’s decision, he must have been instrumental in arranging it so delicately. He remembered his first meeting with Longstaff and how his father had manipulated the man like a puppet. Culum’s faith in himself was shaken. He realized that what Gorth had said was not completely true, that he could never dominate Longstaff as his father had done—to save them again.
“That’s almost like a miracle,” he said, and held Tess’s hand.
“By all that be holy, Tai-Pan,” Gorth said, “I takes back wot I sayed. Apologies—it were sayed in shock. Yus, I’ve to hand it to you.”
“Dirk,” Brock began with grim good humor, “I be glad—right glad—to have thee as relation. Thee saved our’n necks and that be God’s truth.”
“I’ve done nae such thing. It was Longstaff’s idea.”
“Quite right,” Brock said sardonically. “More power to him. Liza, drinks, by God. Dirk, thee’s given us’n powerful reason to celebrate this evening. Thee’s made the whole night, by God. So let’s drink and make merry.” He took a glass of champagne, and when they all had their glasses, he raised his in a toast. “To Tess and Culum, and may they be always having a calm sea an’ a safe harbor all their days.”
They all drank. Then Brock shook hands with Culum, and Struan hugged Tess, and there was friendship among them all.
But only temporarily. They all knew it. But tonight they were prepared to forget. Only Tess and Culum felt safe.
They all sat down to dinner. Tess was wearing a gown that showed her ripening figure to advantage, and Culum was almost helpless with adoration. More wine was poured, and there was more laughter and more toasts. In a lull Struan took out a stiff envelope and handed it to Culum. “A small gift for the two of you.”
“What is it?” Culum asked. He opened the envelope. Tess craned to look too. The envelope contained a sheaf of papers, one heavy with Chinese characters.
“It’s a deed to some land just above Glessing’s Point.”
“But there never beed land for sale there,” Brock said suspiciously.
“His Excellency approved certain deeds of the village Chinese who owned land before we took over Hong Kong. This is one of them. Culum, you and Tess now own an acre jointly. The view’s fine. Oh yes, and along with the deed there’s enough building material for a house with seven bedrooms, a garden and a summer house.”
“Oh, Tai-Pan,” Tess said, her smile glorious, “Thank you! Thank you!”
“Our own land? And our own house? You really mean it?” Culum asked, dazed by his father’s magnanimity.
“Aye, lad. I thought you’d like to begin building immediately. I’ve made an appointment for both of you with our architect tomorrow at noon. To start the plans.”
“We all be leaving tomorrow for Macao,” Gorth said sharply.
“But, Gorth, you won’t mind delaying for a day or two, will you?” Culum said. “After all, this is very important—”
“Oh yes,” Tess said.
“—and with the solution to Queen’s Town and the land sale—” Culum stopped and turned excitedly to his fiancee. “Sousa’s the best architect in the East.”
“Our man Remedies be better, I be thinking,” Brock said, furious with himself that he had not thought of letting them build themselves a house. He had planned to give them one of the company houses in Macao as a wedding present, well away from Struan’s influence.
“Oh yes, he’s very good, Mr. Brock,” Culum said quickly, sensing the jealousy. “If we’re not satisfied with Sousa, then perhaps we could talk to him.” Then to Tess, “You agree?” and then to Struan, “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Nae thanks, Culum. Young people should have a good start in life and a place of their own.” Struan was delighted with the way he had aroused Gorth and Brock.
“Yes,” Liza said complacently. “By gum, a right proper truth.”
Brock picked up the deed and studied it. “Thee be sure the deed be proper?” he asked. “It baint regilar.”
“Aye. Longstaff confirmed it. Officially. His chop’s on the last page.”
Brock frowned at Gorth, his tufted brows a black bar on his weathered face. “I be thinking that mayhaps we better be alooking into these native deeds.”
“Yes,” Gorth said. He looked directly at Struan. “Mayhaps there baint any left for sale, Da’.”