He laughed and reached out a hand to ruffle her hair and almost sent her cap flying. She straightened it without thinking. ‘It’s far too dangerous,’ he said. ‘Shame you’re not a boy, you have spirit, I’ll grant you.’
Hannah’s heart sank. Kate had been right after all. Captain Rydon did see her as a child. An amusing one perhaps, but a child nonetheless. Of course she hadn’t expected him to say that she could come with him, but a tiny part of her had hoped he would promise something else. To come back to her, and only her, perhaps.
‘I tell you what though – would you like to meet a Chinaman?’
‘A Chinaman?’
‘Yes, a real live one. He’s not dangerous, I guarantee it.’ Rydon grinned.
‘Well, yes, but …’
‘Good, then I’ll go and fetch him for you. Come to think of it, I’m sure everyone else would love to see him too.’
‘But where will you find one here in Plymouth?’ Hannah was beginning to wonder if the wine had addled her wits. Or possibly his.
He winked and laughed once more. ‘Just wait and see.’
He said a swift goodbye and she watched him as he sauntered off. Had he been amusing himself at her expense? Was he still going to meet Kate later and would the two of them laugh at how gullible Hannah was? The thought was more than she could bear and she left the room abruptly. Just outside the door, however, she collided with her mother, who was on her way in with a late-comer.
‘Heavens, girl, where are you off to in such a hurry?’ Hannah opened her mouth to give some sort of explanation, but when she caught sight of the person behind her mother, the words died in her throat.
‘Mistress Hannah, how nice to see you again.’
Ezekiel Hesketh, looking neat and tidy in a sober, but well-cut, outfit of finest black silk, was regarding her with a small smile. He wasn’t physically repulsive in any way, Hannah had to admit. Of average height and build, with thick brown hair and deep-set pale green eyes, he was almost handsome. However, there was something about those eyes that struck a chill inside her and made her want to run for cover. She looked from her mother to Mr Hesketh and back again. They seemed to be on remarkably good terms, almost as if there was some kind of understanding between them. The thought made Hannah distinctly uneasy.
‘M-Mr Hesketh.’ She stammered out his name, but for the life of her she couldn’t make her hand reach out to touch his outstretched one. Instead she stood rooted to the spot, staring at him.
‘Where are your manners? Greet our guest properly, Hannah.’ Her mother gave her an angry little push from behind, almost propelling her daughter into the man’s arms. Hannah quickly put out her hand and he bent over it to place a kiss on her knuckles. She snatched it back and put it behind her, rubbing vigorously against her dress to remove any trace of him. He didn’t seem to notice the childish gesture, but continued to smile at her in a way which reminded Hannah strongly of a vulture, a vile creature she had seen a picture of in a book.
Her heart began to beat faster with fear. The look he gave her was calculating and … triumphant. There was no other word to describe it. A shiver hissed up Hannah’s spine. What was going on here?
‘Mr Hesketh is going to do you the honour of dancing with you, my dear. He was just saying how much he has been looking forward to this feast.’ Hannah barely heard her mother’s words through the hammering in her ears.
‘Oh, but I was just going to the kitchen.’
‘Not now. Take Mr Hesketh’s arm and lead the way.’ Her mother accompanied this request with another push, which left no room for misinterpretation. Hannah glanced around wildly, searching for some means of escape. Where was Jacob when she needed him? Edward? Anyone? ‘Hannah.’ Her mother’s tone was ruthless, brooking no argument.
Hannah swallowed hard and put out her hand once more. She closed her eyes as Mr Hesketh tucked it into the crook of his arm and squeezed her fingers with his free hand.
‘I have waited a long time for this, Mistress Hannah,’ he whispered. ‘A very long time …’
Chapter Four
Northern Japan, July 1611
‘I would like an explanation, Yanagihara-san.’
Taro knelt by the side of the old man’s futon, looking down into the tired, drawn face. Several weeks had passed since the marriage, but still Yanagihara lingered in his bed and no one knew quite what ailed him. Perhaps it was just age, Taro thought. The Sensei was, after all, older than anyone else in the castle.
‘Please,’ he felt compelled to add, even though he had a right to demand whatever he wanted. He had delayed his visit for fear of hearing what the old man had seen in his vision, but he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. He had to find out.
‘It is not important now. It’s probably better if I don’t tell you, my lord.’ Yanagihara’s voice was frail, a mere thread in the stillness of the morning.
That had been Taro’s own opinion at first, but the question of what Yanagihara had seen had nagged at him and refused to leave his mind.
‘And if I command it? I have a right to know what you saw if it concerned me or my wife.’ Taro stared out into the garden through the half-open shoji sliding door, clenching his jaw in an effort to keep his patience.
‘Very well, I can see you won’t rest until you know.’ Yanagihara closed his eyes as if to gather his strength. ‘It wasn’t really a vision as such, not the way I normally have them, but when your lady wife and her family entered the room, I felt as if I had been hit by a cold wall.’
‘A cold wall? What do you mean?’
‘I sensed hostility, anger, confusion, perhaps even hatred, and I didn’t know whether it was directed at you or someone else. I think the lady was … much troubled.’
Taro rubbed his chin unconsciously and sighed. He had gathered that much for himself, although whenever he tried to raise the subject Hasuko denied that anything was wrong. She would just smile that incredible smile which made him want to forget everything else and the subject was abandoned until the next time.
He couldn’t really complain about her behaviour. She performed all her wifely duties to perfection and was outwardly obedient and solicitous, but he sensed there was something missing. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was as if she was present in body only and going through the motions. Her mind was elsewhere and he couldn’t reach her. It was incredibly frustrating. He had hoped for much more from their union, even though he realised that was unusual.
Everyone Taro knew had married whoever their parents selected for them and were not expected to have a say in the matter. He supposed he’d been lucky in that respect – because his parents were both dead, he’d made the choice himself. Still, he hadn’t actually met Hasuko before the wedding, so he’d been unable to judge her character.
Most men didn’t care what their wives or anyone else thought about them, but Taro was different. He had genuinely wanted his new wife to feel welcome and to learn to respect him because he was worth it, not because she had to. When he’d seen how lovely she was, he also decided to show her how pleased he was with the match, in the hope that she was too. So far his demonstrations had fallen on stony ground and it all felt very one-sided.
‘Have you had any visions since?’ he asked.
‘Only once, when I heard her voice in the garden, together with that of her sister. Now there’s another one that bears watching.’
Taro had concluded that as well. The Lady Reiko was constantly at her sister’s side, making sure Hasuko had everything she needed. The two were practically inseparable and seemed to be the best of friends. And yet, whenever Taro looked at his sister-in-law, she sent him flirtatious glances which disconcerted him no end.
Although she was a widow whose husband had died soon after their marriage, he was uncomfortable with her forward behaviour. He couldn’t imagine what she hoped to gain by it, unless she wanted him to take her on as an official consort so that she would have a position in his household too. Legally, he c
ould have a wife and as many consorts as he wished, but why would he want her when he had Hasuko? No other woman could possibly compare to his wife. Besides, her father would no doubt wish to marry Reiko off to cement an alliance with some other family.
‘And what was your second vision?’ he said now.
Yanagihara turned his head away. ‘It was the same.’
‘What could be the cause, do you think?’
Yanagihara didn’t comment on the fact that his master now seemed to believe him, where before he had dismissed the vision abruptly. He turned back to look into Taro’s eyes.
‘It is my guess that the Lady Hasuko thinks herself above you and perhaps resented her father choosing you for her husband. There was some talk of her marrying the Shogun’s nephew, I heard, but nothing came of it. She may have been disappointed. Some women are every bit as ambitious as men, if not more so. Although naturally they can’t act on their inclinations except by subtle means. Another possibility is that she was physically attracted to the Shogun’s nephew. I’ve heard he is a favourite with the ladies.’
‘Well, I know I’m not related to the Shogun, but there is nothing wrong with my lineage and although I say it myself, I’ve had my fair share of flirtatious glances from ladies I’ve met. And I have more than enough wealth and land. I can give her anything she wants, she only has to ask.’ Taro scowled. He didn’t want to believe the old man, but his words made sense. His wife certainly had a very high opinion of her own worth, and so did Reiko. That much he had understood from the way they treated his servants. And she most definitely hadn’t shown any signs of finding him attractive.
‘Her family is more ancient than yours and related to the Shogun themselves. She could have married anyone. Her father only chose you because you are neighbours and he is lazy. He can’t bestir himself to do anything strenuous.’ Yanagihara snorted to show his disdain for such sloth, and added, ‘I mean no disrespect, my lord. He chose well when he settled on you, but I doubt he gave the match much thought so it was pure luck. His daughter may think differently.’
‘Hmmph.’ Taro crossed his arms over his chest. That was indeed the impression he had received of his father-in-law, but even so … ‘Well, there’s no going back now, is there. And I don’t really want to. All I’m asking for is her respect, perhaps even a measure of admiration or appreciation of my good qualities. Is that too much, do you think? Or are you suggesting I should divorce her?’
‘No, no. She hasn’t done anything wrong, you have no cause to repudiate her.’ Yanagihara slowly shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, my lord, but you will have to make the best of this situation. As I said, it’s your fate. As long as you are aware of the pitfalls, that may be enough to protect you.’
‘From what? You think she’ll harm me?’
‘No. Not unless … no. I don’t think so. You must pretend that nothing is wrong and always treat her as is her due. Never slight her or her sister. Please remember that.’
‘Very well, I’ll do my best.’ Taro sighed again, feeling deeply disillusioned already after such a short time. ‘It’s not the way I had hoped it would be.’
‘Nothing in life ever is.’
Chapter Five
Plymouth, Devon, 4th June 1611
It was the longest dance of her life.
Hannah went through the motions with a fake smile pasted onto her face, but she couldn’t suppress a shiver each time her hands came into contact with those of Mr Hesketh. He seemed oblivious to her plight and continued to smile at her with that peculiar look of triumph still lurking in his eyes. At every opportunity, his fingers lingered longer than necessary. Hannah had to bite back a sharp rebuke.
At long last the music came to an end. Mr Hesketh put a proprietorial hand on the small of Hannah’s back which, in the throng of people, she couldn’t escape straight away. She glanced around once more, trying to find some reason for leaving him, but couldn’t see anything.
‘I have been meaning to visit, Mistress Hannah, as I had something I particularly wanted to speak to you about,’ Mr Hesketh was saying, ‘but unfortunately business matters have kept me away.’
‘Really?’ Hannah hardly paid attention to his words and continued to scan the room for Jacob or some other acquaintance to use as an excuse.
‘Yes, I was going to …’
An expectant hush suddenly descended on the assembled company, followed by a collective gasp. Mr Hesketh fell silent too. His mouth opened wide in astonishment. He, like everyone else, was staring towards the door to the hall. Hannah turned to look.
‘There he is,’ someone whispered. ‘Ooohh, isn’t he strange looking?’
‘Very odd, to be sure.’
‘Mother, why is he so dark?’
‘Look at those evil little eyes. Pure malice, if you ask me.’ The speaker muttered a quick prayer.
Hannah craned her neck to see this mysterious ‘he’. Instead she caught sight of Captain Rydon standing by the door, his golden hair shining in a sunbeam. At first she thought he was alone, but then she noticed that he was towering over a small, dark man. The stranger was dressed in some kind of baggy breeches and a threadbare, belted silk jacket. Hannah had never seen clothes like that before.
‘Here he is, good people. This is Hodgson, the little Chinaman I brought back with me from my last voyage. I saved his life, so he’s sworn to serve me until he saves mine.’ The captain beamed proudly at the guests, most of whom were now staring rudely at the man, as if he were a freak of nature. The foreigner himself only bowed politely.
‘Hodgson? What kind of name is that for a Chinaman?’ someone muttered.
‘It’s not his real name, of course, that would be far too difficult for us to pronounce.’ Rydon laughed, while the foreigner remained impassive.
Hannah stared along with the rest of the guests. She had to admit the man had a strange look about him. He had unusual eyes and a tiny snub nose, but she didn’t find him ugly precisely. Different, yes, but not ugly.
‘I wouldn’t want to meet him in the dark,’ someone whispered behind her. ‘Would frighten me to death, that it would.’
Hannah frowned in the general direction of the speaker, a large woman of ample proportions. The man wasn’t that scary, in fact he was tiny compared to the lady. Hannah was tempted to speak up in his defence, but she managed to hold her tongue. Instead she shook off Mr Hesketh’s hand at last with a curt, ‘Excuse me, but I really must speak to my brother Edward.’
‘But Mistress Hannah, I hadn’t finished telling you …’
She pretended deafness and made her way through the crowd with a half-formed idea of trying to rescue the Chinaman. She knew what it was like to be stared at – her red hair had seen to that – and felt sorry for him. She soon realised it wasn’t necessary, however. The attention he was receiving didn’t seem to be affecting him in the slightest. Hodgson stayed serene and just looked around the room with curiosity. As his gaze caught Hannah’s, she gave him what she hoped was a sympathetic smile. She thought she saw him nod slightly in acknowledgement. Then he smiled to himself and Hannah frowned. What could he possibly find to amuse him in this awkward situation?
‘Where did you say you found him?’
‘Do you keep him under lock and key?’
‘Tell us more about your journeys, Captain Rydon.’
There were exclamations and questions from every quarter now, as all the guests began to talk at once. Everyone wanted to be told the story of how the captain had saved the foreigner’s life and they all wanted to hear Hodgson speak. Hannah noticed her sister pouting, no doubt put out that she wasn’t the centre of attention any longer. But even Kate seemed fascinated when the Chinaman stepped forward to oblige them.
‘Good eeveh-ning,’ he said and followed this with another polite bow. He added a few more halting words, most of which sounded like nonsense. There were titters and chuckles from the guests.
‘How quaint, to be sure.’
‘Well, what do you expect fro
m a barbarian?’
Hannah shook her head and retreated into a corner once more, making sure that Mr Hesketh was nowhere in sight. She frowned again when she saw Hodgson being touched surreptitiously several times. It was as if the guests didn’t believe him to be real, and she wondered how he put up with this without losing his temper.
She heard snatches of the captain’s story and listened against her will. ‘Hodgson was working as a mercenary … yes, in the pay of a Portuguese merchant … ambushed in the dark … heard the cries, so of course I ran to the rescue …’ An image of the gallant captain rushing towards the robbers with his sword raised formed in Hannah’s mind and she sighed. That would be quite a sight, she was sure, and no wonder the thieves had fled.
The guests grew bored with the subject at last and Hodgson was given permission to wander around. Hannah watched him for a while as he made a circuit of the room, his keen gaze taking everything in. He stopped to finger some of the tapestries. Hannah saw her mother’s eyes narrow in suspicion, but he replaced them all with great care. Whenever he bumped into any of the guests, however, or even came near them, they recoiled with barely contained exclamations. They looked as though his mere presence was a contamination of some sort. Hannah shook her head. He seemed just like an ordinary man to her.
She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. A pounding ache was battering her forehead. Desperately wanting to escape, she made her way over to her mother’s side. ‘Mama, may I retire now, please? My head hurts terribly.’
The Scarlet Kimono (Choc Lit) Page 4