One perfectly drawn eyebrow lifted. “You want to dress like a Chinawoman?”
Genie stilled as a different voice echoed in her ears. A deeper one with a slight drawl. You’re not American, then? The question had seemed unimportant in the safety of her father’s study, but now that she was on her way to the US, where—at least if the lieutenant was to be believed—her success depended on her ability to fit in, it haunted her.
Which was she, Chinese or American?
She drew a deep breath. “No, you’re right. The dress is perfect.”
Chapter 10
Surrounded by amiable laughing guests all waiting to be called to dinner, Genie knew she should be enjoying the moment. It wasn’t every day that a daughter of a missionary was invited to meet heads of state, yet she could muster no excitement. She glanced around the crowded room at the men, women, and soldiers, all gleaming in their evening finery, their conversations, both in English and Chinese, animated and gay, her mood as unsettled as the gray sky outside.
Unlike the others tonight, she couldn’t forget, despite the sea of laughter and smiles, the terror she had felt over the air-raid warning that morning. Nor could she forget the drive up to this hillside mansion that had taken her past charred, bombed-out buildings. Past whole Kunming neighborhoods reduced to ghostly drifts of stone and ashes that even the soft moonlight could not totally erase. Past remnants of lives and dreams cut short by the war.
A war that was much closer than she had ever imagined.
“Would you like a glass of punch?” Nathan asked quietly from beside her.
She eyed the glasses in the hands of the other guests. Part of her wanted to say yes, because the room had grown increasingly stuffy. Yet she was still furious over the way he had humiliated her earlier, demanding she go back to her room and change, and she didn’t want to talk to him.
She hadn’t changed, of course, but only because the other occupants of the car—Nurse Foster, her pilot husband, and another pilot—had overruled him, saying there was no time, and that she looked fine.
Ice clinked softly nearby, reminding her of his question. “Yes, please.”
To her surprise, he hesitated. Then she glanced at the makeshift bar, with all the pilots clustered around it, and understood his indecision. As much as he didn’t want to abandon her in a crowd of strangers, he also clearly didn’t want her anywhere near the other men. She wanted to roll her eyes. She would have enjoyed listening to the pilots’ conversations, which looked quite animated from where she was across the room, but she knew Nathan would never allow it. Tonight she was to play the part of fiancée, a part reinforced by his introducing her as such to everyone they met, and she was fine with it. Mostly.
The truth was she was too tired to fight about it.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said finally.
“I won’t.”
Pressing the back of her fingers against her cheek with the vain hope of cooling them, she watched Nathan stride stiffly across the room, looking as out of sorts as she felt. Even in borrowed stockings, her calves felt uncomfortably exposed. On the other hand, she’d never had the experience of men stopping midsentence to examine her before, either. The attention hadn’t lasted, of course. She had no illusions that she was a beauty, but that brief taste of masculine appreciation had been heady as well as a little unnerving.
If only Li Ming were here with her, she would be less nervous. Together they could have admired the beautiful silk chipaos worn by the wives of local businessmen, her friend critiquing the embroidered designs and craftsmanship while they waited for dinner to be served. Her friend would be equally interested in the young men, of course. Not for herself, but for Genie. She could almost hear Li Ming’s wry, clear-eyed assessments of this pilot or that one.
A burst of masculine laughter pulled her from her thoughts, and she glanced toward the bar again. More pilots had arrived, and she wondered if still more were expected. Dinner had been delayed to give all the pilots a chance to get cleaned up. Two separate squadrons had gone up this afternoon, several hours apart, looking for the enemy aircraft that had been reported, some getting back later than others.
She had only learned that on the way over in the car. She had wanted to ask if Lieutenant Younan had flown, too, but had refrained with Nathan sitting beside her. She also had wondered if the lieutenant would even be here. She had also learned on the way over that Natasha had given a somewhat inaccurate description of the dinner tonight. Genie and Nathan were not the guests of honor. They were last-minute additions. Madame Chiang, as someone who liked to entertain, had planned the party weeks ago.
“He’s not over there,” Nathan murmured as he rejoined her, glass in hand.
“Who?” Her cheeks burned as she took the glass of punch from him. It bothered her that she hadn’t seen him approach because her thoughts had been directed elsewhere.
“You know who. And it’s embarrassing the way you throw yourself at him.”
“The way I . . . ?” She turned to stare at Nathan. “When have I ever?”
“On the trail. Then again in the truck. You were practically in his lap the whole way.” His jaw tightened fractionally as his gaze swept the room. “I know what you’re trying to do, Eugenia, but it won’t work. No matter how much you try to seduce him, he’s not going to take you home. Rumor has it he’s about to be shipped out anyway. So your little plan to defy your father won’t work.”
For a moment, she was too startled to respond. Then her bemusement turned into anger. “I’m not trying to seduce anyone. And when have I ever been anything but obedient to my father?”
“How about tonight? Do you really think he would have approved of . . . this?” He gestured at her dress, his expression tight.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said, her temper sparking further. “It was always his belief that fitting in with one’s surroundings was the key to success. Why else would he insist I learn as many dialects in Chinese as I could?”
“Learning the language is not the same as stooping to harlotry.” He dropped his gaze to her lips. She fought the urge to wipe them. She would not be shamed for wearing lipstick, something plenty of other women were wearing tonight.
“Miss Baker. Mr. Sterling.” The familiar drawl cut off whatever retort she would have made, and she stiffened. After Nathan’s account of her behavior in the truck, something she didn’t remember at all, she was suddenly afraid to turn around.
“Younan.” Nathan nodded curtly at the man behind her.
Drawing a deep breath, she turned to greet the man she had supposedly thrown herself at. She forced her lips into what she hoped looked like a casual smile. “Hello, Lieutenant.”
“Hello. How are you feeling this evening? Better?” To her relief, only friendly concern narrowed his beautiful eyes.
Her smile relaxed into something more real. “Much, thank you.”
“Good.” He grinned back. With his hair slicked back and shiny in the light, his cheeks smooth and freshly shaved, he looked entirely different from the last time she had seen him. Civilized, even. A whiff of his aftershave, something spicy and herbal, like mountain air after a rain, tickled her senses.
Then her eyes narrowed as she noticed the lack of insignia on the lieutenant’s shirt collar. In fact, there was no military decoration at all on his impeccably pressed tan shirt.
“I don’t know much about the Chinese air force, but shouldn’t you have something here?” She touched her collarbone where a shirt collar would lay.
“Yes,” Nathan said coolly. “But he’s not really a lieutenant. Are you, Younan?”
A ghost of a smile touched Ted’s lips. “Technically, no. We were all forced to give up our commissions to fly over here, so as not to violate American neutrality. Except for General Chennault, our commander, since his role is only ‘advisory’ in nature. The rest of us, being engaged in active combat, have to maintain civilian status. Or had to. All that has changed now that the US has entered the war.”
“So how should I address you? Lieutenant or Mr. Younan?” she asked.
“Ted is fine.” His smile deepened as their eyes met. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Reverend Baker will be disappointed to learn you lied to him,” Nathan sneered.
Ted’s jaw tightened as he turned to the other man. “I did not lie. I am indeed a lieutenant in the US Army Air Corps, a rank I worked hard to achieve and am damn proud of.”
Genie eased between the two men, aware of the attention directed their way. “As you should be. I’m sure my father would understand.”
Ted gave a slight nod, his expression relaxing. “Thank you. And before I get distracted again, the Generalissimo and his wife are ready to meet you now.”
“Excellent.” Nathan held out his arm. “Ready, Eugenia?”
Together, the three of them cut through the crush of people to the front of the room, where a well-dressed Chinese couple was holding court. The husband—a fit, handsome man with a closely shaved head and wire-rimmed glasses—sported a military tunic bedecked with all the medals and ribbons of his exalted rank as well as a pleasant, relaxed smile that wouldn’t look out of place on a kindly uncle. She wasn’t deceived, however, and guessed he had to be Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek, leader of the Chinese Nationalist government.
Genie’s attention turned to the woman who stood beside him. On the exterior, Madame Chiang was indeed as elegant and beautiful as a jade butterfly. Yet the woman was listening to the men gathered with such quiet intensity—her jet eyes missing nothing—Genie could well believe the rumors that she was the real power behind the throne.
“Even though I know you both speak Chinese fluently, I advise you to stick to English,” Ted murmured as they approached. “Madame Chiang spent many years in Georgia, attending college with her sisters, and likes to show off her language ability.”
“Of course,” Nathan replied just as softly.
“Does the Generalissimo speak English?” she asked curiously.
“Not that I know of,” Ted answered. “But, since Madame Chiang will tell you she speaks for her husband, and indeed for all of China, it won’t be a problem.”
Nathan snorted. Genie, for her part, was intrigued that the Generalissimo allowed his wife such freedom. Such power. It was not a privilege normally granted to wives in a public setting—at least not in her experience.
Madame Chiang’s smile was warm as they approached. “Welcome!” she greeted them in English. “You must be Miss Baker and Mr. Sterling. Thank you for returning our dear Lieutenant Younan to us. China is forever in your debt.”
Only the faintest of accents colored Madame’s soft drawl.
Nathan bowed slightly. “It was our pleasure.”
“I hear you are returning to the United States,” Madame Chiang said, her dark, intelligent gaze flitting between Genie and Nathan.
“We are,” Nathan said, leaving Genie no room to respond. “We leave tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? Genie struggled not to stare at Nathan while Madame wished them a safe journey. Had he planned on telling her their travel plans before they actually left Kunming?
Madame Chiang turned to her. “And best wishes to you on your upcoming marriage. May you enjoy many happy years together.”
Genie almost choked on the ghastly thought. “Thank you,” she managed.
“One last thing.” Madame leaned forward, her smile fading. “When you get to the United States, please remind your countrymen of China’s long friendship with them. Encourage them to reach deep in their pockets and send support to China, both monetary and military. After all, we share a common enemy as well as a common dream.”
“Of course, but I’m not sure what I can do . . .”
“You can do much.” Madame Chiang’s expression became almost fierce. “Have you not a voice? Talk to your friends, to all the wives and mothers in your circle. Spread the word that China needs their help. It is too important to leave something so crucial in the hands of men alone.”
Genie stared at Madame Chiang, the notion of women having any sort of impact on matters of state seeming as improbable as men giving birth.
“I can’t believe this,” Nathan said with a derisive laugh. “After decades of your government demonizing foreigners, calling for a purge of all non-Chinese peoples from your borders, you dare ask us to help you?”
Genie stiffened at his blatant rudeness, sure that he was going to get them thrown out. While she, too, had been spat upon and called a “white devil,” she certainly didn’t hold Madame accountable for it.
Ted looked horrified, too.
After a moment of frosty silence, Madame inclined her head ever so slightly. “You may do as you choose, of course. I hope you will enjoy dinner.”
Recognizing a dismissal when she heard one, Genie began backing up. “Yes, thank—”
Nathan’s grip on her elbow tightened, holding her in place. “Wait.”
Switching to Mandarin, he turned to face Generalissimo Chiang. “The peril facing the Middle Kingdom is of its own devising. If your government would devote as much attention to driving out the Japanese as it does to fighting the Communists, you would not need to ask assistance from your Western friends.”
The Generalissimo’s hitherto pleasant expression vanished, and Genie’s breath seized. They would be arrested for sure now. Of all the ways Nathan could demonstrate his improved mastery of the language, this absolutely wasn’t it.
“Your youth makes you rash,” the Generalissimo said tersely. “However, as you are our guest tonight, I will forgive your rudeness. Once. As to your mistaken belief that I should allow the Communist threat to go unchecked, you should consider the words of your own President Lincoln, a very wise man. He said a house divided against itself cannot stand, and I completely agree. These Communists you wish me to ignore are dividing the Chinese people, while Stalin rubs his greedy hands, eager to make the Middle Kingdom his own. Such a calamity I cannot and will not allow.”
Nathan opened his mouth as if to argue, but he was interrupted by an American-looking officer materializing beside them. Genie almost collapsed with relief.
“Excuse me.” An older man dressed in a uniform similar to Ted’s except complete with insignia smiled genially at the group. She guessed he must be a high-ranking officer, not only because he stood with the unconscious ease of a man used to being in charge, but because Ted had abruptly straightened.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the man said in English, bowing slightly to the older couple. “Madame Chiang, could you please let the Generalissimo know that dinner is about to be served?”
Madame smiled at the man, the tension of the previous moment vanishing. “Of course, General. Thank you.”
“General,” Ted said as soon as the Chiangs had drifted off toward the dining room, “may I present Miss Baker and Mr. Sterling. Miss Baker, Nathan, General Chennault.”
General Chennault nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for returning Ted to us. Though it’s a pity he couldn’t have brought his plane back with him.”
A dull flush crept up Ted’s cheeks. “I did the best I could, sir.”
“I know you did, son.” The general clapped him on the shoulder, all smiles. “But it still leaves us short a plane, which is why I’m sending you to Cairo tomorrow, to ferry another one back.”
“Yes, sir. And I won’t let you down.”
“Never thought you would. And now, if you would be good enough to show Miss Baker and Mr. Sterling to their seats, I’ll finish spreading the word.” Chennault bowed slightly to Genie. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Likewise.” She waited until the general had continued on his way before turning to Ted. “Cairo? Why, that’s half a world away! How can he possibly expect you to fly that far?”
He smiled in amusement. “Not in one straight shot. I’ll have to stop and refuel along the way. Same as you will on your flight to Calcutta tomorrow.”
Her brain stut
tered to a stop. “Flight?”
“Sure. Didn’t Sterling tell you? Chennault got you tickets on a CNAC flight—that would be China’s national airline—and he had to boot a couple of dignitaries to do it, too.” Ted laughed even as her stomach twisted in pure terror.
“I can’t . . .” She drew a deep breath and tried again. “I can’t go up in a plane. They crash!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nathan said coolly. “The flight leaves at sunup, and you will be on it. No excuses.”
“Can’t we go by boat?” she said, her panic growing. “I’m feeling so much better, I could readily handle another week of travel down to the coast. And I promise to take care of myself on the journey this time and not get sick again.”
“I’m glad to hear it, though I have to wonder about your sincerity, considering how you’re dressed tonight.” Nathan gestured at her dress. “Someone with a lick of sense would have worn far more fabric to keep away the chill. Instead you chose to look like a harlot.”
She flinched, stung by the unfairness of his attack, even as she was appalled to find her eyes filling with tears.
Ted slid between her and Nathan, forcing the slighter man to step back. “What the hell is your problem, Sterling? First you insult the Chiangs, and now Miss Baker. And the fellows you’ve bunked with these past few days are none too happy with you, either.”
Nathan’s face flushed. “Should I stay silent when men who should know better stagger home drunk boasting of the women they bought, while letters from their sweethearts back home lie open on their bunk? And what of diplomats who extoll us all to make sacrifices for ‘the good of all’ while they line their own pockets and see more to their own comfort than that of others?”
“And what of narrow-minded religious blowhards who pretend to speak the truth of the Lord and yet forget He reserved that right of judgment for himself?” With a disgusted sound, Ted turned his back on Nathan to face Genie. His dark eyes gentled. “For what it’s worth, I think you look nice tonight.”
Gratitude squeezed her chest. “Thank you.”
A Girl Divided Page 10