by Jade Lee
And yet, he could only watch and silently thank the goddess Kwan Yin for sparing the sacred scrolls. The door to his bedroom was ajar, but Mr. Wicks was not rational enough to push through to the other room. He was too animalistic to do more than destroy the things in sight.
"Father, stop this!" Charlotte's voice was high and angry. "It's very common to marry a Chinaman," she pressed. "Joanna did it. I've done it. Everyone's done it."
"Hush!" Ken Jin hissed at her. She could not possibly expect her father to believe such nonsense. It did nothing but draw her father's fury to her.
As expected, Mr. Wicks spun, his fists already raised to strike. Charlotte stood tall and defiant, daring her father to hit her. Ken Jin stepped into the breach. He had done everything he could to draw the fight away from her, but this was a small room and neither Charlotte nor the other woman would leave. So he had no choice but to take the brunt of her father's attack straight on.
Ken Jin allowed the bearlike man to grab him. Then, at the last moment possible, Ken Jin shifted his weight and knocked Mr. Wicks's feet out from under him. The man went down with another bellow. Ken Jin shifted and pressed his knee deep between his employer's shoulder blades. Mr. Wicks could not rise until Ken Jin released him.
"Father—" Charlotte began.
"You are no daughter to me!" The raw pain in the man's voice made Ken Jin grit his teeth against guilt. Mr. Wicks had every right to be furious.
"That's right," Charlotte said, her voice commanding and calm. "I am married, Father. I am a wife now—"
"Enough!" snapped Ken Jin. "Lying will not help matters." Though he was tempted. Sweet Heaven, how he wished it were possible.
Charlotte stared at him in shock, and the agony in her face cut at his resolve. But one look at his employer told him it was too late. Even if the lie were possible, Mr. Wicks would never allow it. So he forced himself to turn away from Charlotte. His job and his future were gone. That was inevitable from the first moment she had stepped into his bedroom four days ago. All he could do now was make it easier on her. And that meant mollifying her father.
Ken Jin dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor directly in front of Mr. Wicks's face. "She is still a virgin and can marry respectably," he said to the floorboards. "I accept your punishment."
Mr. Wicks straightened slowly. His breath huffed like the great bellows of an ox, but he said nothing. Charlotte, on the other hand, was scrambling to her father's side, her words rushing about in the small room.
"Don't be ridiculous, Father. I chose him. I married him. It was a quiet little Chinese ceremony. I knew how you would react, so I didn't tell—"
A single blow across her mouth silenced Charlotte. Ken Jin heard it fall and had to force himself to stay still. It was a father's right to punish his daughter. Worse, if Ken Jin interfered now, it would likely make life harder for Charlotte later. So he remained in his kowtow and waited, though he tilted his head slightly to watch his employer.
"Come along, ducks," said the other woman. "We'll just go have a spot of tea somewhere. Leave your father to his business."
Ken Jin watched as Charlotte straightened. Her father's handprint burned bright red on her cheek, but it was nothing compared to the blaze in her eyes. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice tight.
"Me?" trilled the woman. "Why, I'm Maggie. I'm a friend of your father's, is all. A—"
"A strumpet," interrupted Charlotte as she rounded on her father. "You brought her into this house and you dare hit me? You're an adulterer!"
Mr. Wicks bellowed again, but his fist never fell; Ken Jin had hold of it again, though he had to launch himself up from the floor.
"Please, Charlotte," Ken Jin hissed as he steadied both himself and Mr. Wicks. "Leave. Let us discuss this."
"No!" she snapped, as he'd known she would.
"Then at least get dressed," he begged.
She looked down at herself, and color rose in her cheeks when she realized she was still naked. Maggie came to the rescue, handing over pants and tunic. Unfortunately, the woman didn't think to remain silent as everyone watched Charlotte hastily dress.
"I understand the lure, ducks, truly I do. But he is a Chinaman, and not a very rich one by the looks of things."
"We are married," Charlotte insisted as she pulled on her shirt. Then, when her head finally emerged, she looked hard at Ken Jin. "Tell them we're married, then make them leave."
He didn't answer her. Mr. Wicks radiated fury, but his violent impulses had been stopped. For the moment. So Ken Jin slowly released the man before donning his own pants. His employer's eyes followed his every move. Mr. Wicks's shoulders hunched and his face pushed forward. He looked very much like a mongoose squaring off with a snake.
"I can ruin you," Mr. Wicks suddenly said. "I will ruin you."
"You will not!" cried Charlotte, but her father ignored her.
"I know you have invested your money as if it were mine, all under my name. I will keep it. All of it. You will have nothing."
Ken Jin swallowed and wondered why there was so little pain. All his money, all his plans would be gone. He'd be destitute once again. Why wasn't there more pain? The first time had cut him so deeply that he screamed for days. But now? Nothing. Nothing except the sight of Charlotte's steady, silent tears.
"Do you understand?" Mr. Wicks suddenly screamed. "You will have nothing!"
Ken Jin bowed. It was what servants did. They bowed. "Will you consider that adequate recompense?"
Mr. Wicks's eyes narrowed. His lip curled as he looked down at his daughter. "She is still a virgin?"
"No!" she cried, but Ken Jin's voice was lower and clearer.
"Yes," he answered. "There are doctors who can verify it."
"I will expect a clear accounting," her father continued, "down to every last groat. Then you will leave Shanghai. I never want to see your miserable face again."
"Of course." He would be left with nothing but the clothes on his back. Again.
"No!" Charlotte pushed forward, her eyes shimmering with tears, but her stance firm with her own fury. "We are marr—"
"Charlotte!" Ken Jin would not support the lie.
She rounded on him. "Fine! Then we will marry. You will get every last penny of your money plus a great deal more as a wedding gift. We will live together in..." She looked around at the destruction her father had caused and shrugged. "In a house. And no one..." She glared at her father and his mistress. "No one will say a thing to Mother about this, about today. We will be a happy bride and groom." Her voice shook when she spoke, and he knew she understood a small bit of the lunacy she proposed.
"I will disown you, you disgraceful slut!"
Charlotte reared back as if struck, but she was not silent. "I'm a slut? I'm not married to someone else. Mother loves you! Were you ever faithful to her? Ever?"
"Aye, ducks," drawled Maggie sadly from where she was inspecting the Dragon chair. "That's the way of it, all right."
"Do not think to speak to me in that tone of voice!" bellowed Mr. Wicks at his daughter. "You have behaved like a common tart. Worse!"
"I've been following my father's example!"
Ken Jin felt his chest tighten and his belly grow cold. The screeching, the threats, even the debris beneath his feet felt familiar to the point of dizziness. But he wasn't a child anymore, and his home would not descend into mindless violence. So he stepped into the space between father and daughter. There was little room between them, but he slid in nevertheless, holding back the father's blows and pushing the daughter backward, away from harm.
"Ken Jin!" the father cursed.
"Ken Jin!" the daughter pleaded.
He answered neither of them until there was room to breathe and space to listen. Only then did he speak. "Do you know what it is to be a Chinese wife?" he asked.
It took a moment for Charlotte to process his words. He saw her glare shift from her father to him, then back again, before finally returning to his eyes. "You s
aid something about a cage."
He nodded, hating that he had to disillusion her. Hating himself for the pain he had to inflict. "You would be a servant to the entire household. You would be insulted twice for every grain of rice in your bowl. Tears would be your tea, and bruises your mattress."
"But you wouldn't do that to—"
"I would have nothing to do with it," he answered. "It would come from my mother when I am away."
She lifted her chin. "I wouldn't live with such a shrew."
He paused, not wanting to say his next words. But she had to understand that her beautiful dream was impossible; they could never marry. "The abuse would come from my first wife."
She gasped. Even Mr. Wicks drew back in shock. "You're married?"
He shook his head, but kept his gaze steady. He owed it to Charlotte to look her in the eye when he delivered the news. "I am engaged. As she is Chinese and our arrangement is long-standing, she would be my first wife. You could only be a concubine."
"The devil you say," growled Mr. Wicks. Ken Jin ignored him, his attention riveted to Charlotte's stricken expression.
"You would have to break that engagement, Ken Jin. I will be your only wife."
He shook his head. "That is not the Chinese way."
"It is the English way!"
He nodded. The English married one woman, then slept with many without responsibility or interest in their care once the liaison was finished. He found it appalling and would not be party to it.
Instead, he stood immobile while Charlotte crumpled before him. She did not sink to her knees; she had too much power for that. But her face lost all heat and her eyes became vague with fear. "You said I was your Tigress," she whispered.
At last he felt the pain. Simple and deep, it cut into the lowest recesses of his belly. "You are my Tigress," he said, not because it would help her understand, but because the words would not be denied. "There will be no other." Her knew that without doubt. Theirs had been a synergy unlike any other. Most spent their lives searching for such a thing to no avail. He had found it and now must throw it away. "As my wife, you would have to leave William. He would be miserable with my family, as would you."
She gasped, her greatest fear voiced aloud. But then, to her credit, she straightened her spine and fought—for him, for a life together. "We will live in a house in Shanghai," she said. "You, me, and William. No other relatives. Just us."
The pain burrowed deeper this time, in a long line starting from his heart all the way down to his yang seat as he shook his head. "I cannot afford such a life."
"But there's a way. There has to be a way."
He stepped forward, but he did not touch her. He no longer had the right. In truth, he'd never had the right. "You wish there was a way. You dream of possibilities, but in your heart you know it is impossible." He looked down at his hands as they fell uselessly to his side. "We knew this would happen if we were discovered; be grateful that it is not worse. Joanna and her monk are likely dead."
"No!" She spoke in defiance, but he saw the way her hands trembled. She knew she was defeated.
Ken Jin said nothing. He had no more words, only the silent plea that she understand. She would hate being a Chinese wife, and he could never become English for her. Her friends would never accept either of them, and without money, he could not give her the life she wanted. But she didn't see it even when her father explained.
"Don't be stupid, girl," the man spat from where he stood behind Ken Jin. "No one would accept you; neither his kind nor ours."
"I don't care." Brave words, but her voice wobbled and her shoulders were beginning to slump.
"Our children would," Ken Jin whispered. "I have no wish to give you up, Miss Charlotte." No truer words had ever been spoken.
"Then don't!"
"You cannot live without wealth, Charlotte, and I cannot afford you."
Her head snapped up, and her eyes flashed with fury. "You don't know what I can and can't do."
He dipped his head in acknowledgment—not of her words, but of her pain. "And William? How would he live in a poor man's house?" When she didn't speak, he stepped forward to press his point. "You could not manage as a Chinese wife; I cannot be an English husband. Without money..." They both knew he would never work as a white man's First Boy again. Her father would see to that. "I must return to my family." And their charity. The very thought made his legs go numb. Could he face that? He didn't know. But he certainly wouldn't bring Charlotte into such a situation.
"There must be a way!"
Her anguish touched him. He felt it in his chest as a deep burning ache. How strange, that he would feel her pain when his own body was slipping away from him, growing more and more numb as each moment passed. Unable to stop himself, he reached out for her face. His fingertips brushed away her tears: hot, wet, each drop a yin blade that cut at his spirit.
He made his decision. "Unless we can find another way, I will make my bargain with your father."
She straightened, and he felt her withdrawal like ice on his skin. "I will not be bartered like a cheap toy."
"An' what would ye be instead, ducks?" asked Maggie in a surprisingly tender voice. "Ye're not married, and ye can't work. Ye're trained to care fer a rich home. He ain't rich. Ye'd just be a burden." She stepped forward and gently tugged on Charlotte's arm. "Let's get you home and into some decent clothes. Let the men find a way out o' this coil."
"No." Charlotte said the word, but there was little fire in it.
Mr. Wicks moved around Ken Jin, the gleam of greed clear in his face. "Every groat, Chinaman."
Ken Jin bowed. "And she will be cared for? As if this never happened?"
"She's my daughter," the white man growled in response. "I look after my own."
"I will get all in order and give it to you in the morning."
"But it did happen!" Charlotte bellowed. The words beat at Ken Jin's temples and trembled through his chest, but there was nothing more he could say. Even her father ignored her except to grab her arm.
Maggie patted Charlotte's left hand. "You'll grow up, ducks. We all do, one way or another."
Charlotte stared at the woman. Ken Jin could see the war inside his fierce Tigress. He recognized the hot denial, the boiling anger, and underneath it all, a churning confusion. How barbarian of her father to have raised her with the illusion of choice. She'd had the responsibility of her brother and their household from a very young age. It had made her believe she could manage her own destiny.
Her glare slid to her father, who matched it with equal determination and fury. Then her eyes cut to him. Ken Jin did not bow; his body was too numb to move. "We would have gone to Heaven together," he said. He didn't know where the words came from, only that they were true.
Her eyes widened. He saw surprise and anger there, plus more besides. He knew she felt too much to express, while he felt nothing. Even her pain could not reach him anymore.
He was empty.
"I hate you," she hissed. Then she jerked away from the other two, breaking their hold as she ran out the door. Mr. Wicks cursed then and followed. Maggie remained, sighing as she jingled the coins in her purse.
"I guess they won't be needing me, then." She glanced his way. "Tough luck for you though, ducks. 'At's why me mum told me never to fall for the rich ones. They don't understand the basics o' life. An' who pays? It's us." She slanted him a look. "You do have something hidden away—right, ducks? Just in case?"
He looked down at the floor, still too numb to even kick at the debris.
"You don't, do ye?" she realized. "Ye're really giving it all up. The girl, yer job, and all yer money." She shook her head at his folly. "Guess the Chinese can fall in love."
His gaze cut sharply back to her, but the woman didn't notice. She was carefully counting out English coins. Two pounds, one shilling, and four pence. She pressed it into his hand. "Take this. It'll hold you until you get back to yer family." Then she carefully tucked her purse into her
bodice. Patting him lightly on the cheek, she turned to leave, chuckling all the way. "A Chinaman in love. With a rich chit, no less. Ah," she added as she winked at him. "Ye've given me a story for me grandchildren. Ta, love!"
She left. Ken Jin stood without thought, without sensation, Maggie's laughter echoing in his head. A Chinaman in love, she'd said. Was that what had happened? Had he lost everything for love? Or was he merely cursed, his fortune perpetually given to the whites? Wasn't that the curse of a man who thwarted the natural order of things, that all his endeavors would turn perverse? Money to the barbarians, love to hate, fullness to nothingness.
Did he love her?
Yes. With her, he could go to Heaven. With her, his yang ran thick and strong. With her, he felt all things as a whole man should. Of course, he loved her.
But in China, such feelings meant less than nothing. Family, responsibility, honor—all these things superseded love. And he could not regain them by embracing a perverted love—a love for a barbarian woman—no matter how his body trembled in her presence. No matter how strong their yin and yang combined, such a relationship was doomed from the beginning. His entire life from his eighth birthday had been doomed.
It was time for him to return, to begin again where he had left his life's proper path. It was time for him to do what he should have done as a child.
He would be of value to the Emperor, he realized, broken vessel that he was. He spoke English well. He understood how the barbarians thought and what they wanted.
He would likely rise quickly to some form of power, and his last two decades would not be a total waste if he aided his troubled country.
His family would honor him again, and his name would once again be written on the family altar. He might even still marry Jan Wan, assuming she would accept her status as an honorary wife. Plus his dragon and its power would no longer consume his thoughts. Neither would a barbarian woman with yin that burned as bright as her golden red hair.
It was decided, then. He knelt to gather up the scattered threads of the Dragon cushion. Tomorrow he would leave for Peking and enter the ranks of the Emperor's most esteemed servants.