The Taipings were resurgent throughout the Yangtze Valley, which produced most of China’s exports and consumed the bulk of her imports. Yet the Imperials appeared united by new resolution after the birth of the Prince Tsai Chün two months earlier. How could one weigh the profits of trading with an insurgent regime against the Imperial Government’s certain retribution should it suppress the insurgency? By making himself indispensable to both Taipings and Manchus while increasing his holdings in the autonomous Foreign Settlement. That was not the perfect answer, but it was the best available.
Stretching comfortably in the cane long-chair, Saul luxuriated in the light breeze, which was hardly impeded by his loose cotton shirt and trousers. He peeled off his black cotton socks so the breeze could play on his toes.
“Saul, what are we to do with Fronah?” Sarah interrupted his thoughts. “She can’t go on this way.”
“I’m very much aware of that, my love. I’ve spent hours worrying about Fronah since that American sailor brought her and David home.”
“And what have you decided in your wisdom?”
“Simply that I could bear the loss of the junk’s cargo,” he evaded. “After all, the profits of dealing with the Taipings are so high. But I couldn’t bear the loss of a daughter.”
“Sometimes, you know, the only way to keep a daughter is to lose her.”
“You mean, I assume …”
“That it’s high time she married. Otherwise, I know it, she’ll do something stupid and ruin herself.”
“She’s still very young, Sarah. Anyway, who’s she to marry? She hardly looks at young Sam Moses.”
“I simply don’t know, Saul, but there must be someone.”
“Presumably, there is—somewhere. But not, as far as I can see, in Shanghai.”
Sarah leaned across the gap between their chairs and touched his arm with her fingertips. “Saul, I’m so worried about Fronah. We’ve got to guide her, even if she hates it. Thank God you stopped her gadding about so much. I shudder when I think what could happen at those balls—outside on the veranda or in the bushes.”
“How can you talk that way, Sarah?” He was outraged. “She’s a religious girl, you know.”
“Girls do, you know. Even religious girls.”
“What are you worried about now besides her wildness? What’s bothering you?”
“This American sailor, this Hyde, does he have to be around so much? I don’t like the way she looks at him.”
“She doesn’t like him, Sarah. She thinks he’s flip and arrogant.”
“Saul, that means she wants him to pay more attention to her. You simply don’t understand girls. Why does he have to be around so much?”
“Not all that much. Besides, I’m grateful to him. He could have made a scandal. With those two aboard, Fronah and David, who would’ve believed it wasn’t my cargo? But he brought them home quietly.”
“But what else is there about this Hyde? It’s not just gratitude, I’m sure.”
“He could also be very useful,” Saul confessed. “He does command a patrol boat, you know.”
“You think he’d turn his back on smugglers sometimes? How else could he be useful? I don’t like the way he looks at her, either.”
“I’m not quite sure, but I know he could be very useful. Anyway, I’ll try to keep them apart to please you. But I still think you’re seeing things, my dear.”
“We’ll see, Saul. She likes young Gentiles too much. Sometimes I suspect he’s not the only one. There could be others.”
“Not any more. We’d know.”
“How would we know, my dear? We must find her a husband very soon. Saul, did you ever think of Mr. Henriques, Lionel Henriques?”
“No, and I won’t think of him now.” Saul guffawed. “To start with, he’s so much older.”
“Only fifteen years, not so much for a man. And she’s fascinated by him.”
“Only because he stands for the things she wants … Europe and sophisticated society. Everything that isn’t Shanghai.”
“He is Jewish, Saul.”
“You’ve said you want her to have what we have, not settle for second best. Is she going to find magic with Lionel Henriques?”
“Perhaps not. But who can tell? Only God himself. Lionel Henriques is here now. And she is interested. Saul, we must do something. There’s very little time. She’s ripe for marriage—or for trouble.”
The croquet mallet smacked smartly, and the striped ball streaked across the grass of the embankment. Fronah shook her head in ostentatious annoyance when the ball struck the wire-hoop and cannoned towards the Hwangpoo. Her white kidskin shoes flashed beneath her skirt as she followed toward the river’s edge.
Whatever the luck of the game, she knew she was fetching in her scarlet-sprigged white dimity frock caught with a scarlet sash. Though she was a novice at croquet, the men at Jardines’ picnic were eager to accompany her. She was not only slim but vivacious in the sunlight. The older women were buttressed by stout corsets, but she needed only wispy summer stays of lace and slivers of whalebone. Even Margaret MacGregor was lumpy. Fronah darted an irritated glance at the Scotswoman, who sat on a folding chair in the shade of the plane trees, her red pompadour close to Gabriel Hyde’s dark head.
Whatever did Gabriel find to talk to her about, she wondered. Margaret was at least six years older than he. She was already thirty, practically middle-aged.
“I’m sorry, very sorry. I apologize.” Iain Matthews spoke to her slim back. “I’ve said it fifty times. What more can I say?”
“Don’t go on so, Iain,” she replied without looking at him. “It really doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter, and you know it.” He plucked at the green-and-blue scarf that served him as a belt. “You know you’re only annoyed because you still care about me.”
“That’s news to me.” Fronah stooped to study the position of her ball. “What makes you think I ever cared? What have you got to say that’s so important?”
“I didn’t write—didn’t answer your notes. I admit it. For God’s sake, you told me you couldn’t see me for a long while. It was safer not to write.”
“Safer for whom? You or me?” She turned to face him, an angry flush staining the olive skin over her cheekbones. “Tell me that! Tell me why you waited until we bumped into each other today. You know I didn’t hear a single word from you.”
“So you do care about me,” he said triumphantly. “Otherwise why did it matter not hearing? Admit it. You do care?”
“Not particularly. I was amazed, and I still am. No gentleman would behave like that. No gentleman would leave a lady without a word for months like that after …”
“It was wonderful, wasn’t it?” He grinned. “I still remember you, and … But I promise you, I didn’t write only because I was thinking of you.”
Practiced in prevarication, Fronah knew a lie when she heard one. She knew Iain was lying, though she still could not understand why he had heartlessly deserted her after that afternoon in the grove. Since the Foreign Settlement was so small, it was inevitable that they should meet again—and they had met on her first excursion into society after her father lifted the ban imposed for her escapade with David. She had looked forward to seeing Iain, and his penitent air touched her heart. Seeing again his light-blue eyes and shining blond hair, she knew she still loved him. But she would not relent until she had punished him.
“What do you want, Iain?” Her full lips were set, her amber eyes cold. “Exactly what do you want of me?”
“Say you’ll see me again. Say we can go riding again—see each other alone.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible. My parents would never allow it. And I know better than to be alone with you. But we’ll meet—the way we’re meeting now.”
“That’s not good enough for me, Fronah. Anyway, why are you making such a fuss? All the ladies of the Settlement have their … ah … friends. Why can’t we be friends again?”
“
That’s all you want, Iain, isn’t it? To be friends, as you call it. You’ve never … ever … even suggested we might …”
Fronah bit her lip and looked down at the croquet ball. Genuinely puzzled, Iain waited for her to continue.
“Suggested what, Fronah?” he finally asked. “I don’t follow.”
“You never suggested we might be more than friends,” she declared. “People do marry, you know.”
“Marry!” He was astonished. “You know I can’t marry for years. I never thought you …”
“No, Iain, you never thought, did you?” Fronah was in command again. “Anyway, it’s all too late. I certainly don’t want to marry you or anyone else, not for a long time. Why don’t we just forget it?”
“You’re right, I should have thought about … more about you.” He was placating her. “I see it now, and I’m sorry. But it never crossed my mind. What would your father and mother say? You Jews don’t … excuse me, Hebrews … you don’t marry Christians.”
“You can say Jews, Iain. Jews is quite all right.” She was wounded by his callousness and by his reminding her that she would always be an outsider amid the easy kinship of the Foreign Settlement. “So you thought you were safe?”
“Fronah, you knew I couldn’t marry for years.”
“Iain, let’s just forget it, shall we?” she replied angrily. “Let’s forget anything ever happened between us.”
Fronah gripped her mallet behind her back. Forcing a smile, she glanced negligently at the plane trees, where Margaret MacGregor and Gabriel Hyde were still engrossed in conversation.
“I’ll never forget you, and I know you can’t forget me. We could talk about … about marrying some day. You know I can’t now.”
Iain stopped abruptly. Why did she keep glancing at the picnickers who sat under the trees sipping hock poured by houseboys in white jackets? Following her glance, he saw Gabriel Hyde bow over Margaret MacGregor’s outstretched hand and stroll toward the croquet players.
“I’ve been watching you, Fronah,” Iain said ominously. “Why do you keep looking at that Hyde fellow?”
“He’s a friend,” she replied stiltedly. “I hope I may look at a friend if I wish. Or does that displease you?”
“It certainly does,” he exploded. “He’s a conceited ass—a cashiered officer and a mercenary. Even the Americans wouldn’t keep him on. I don’t want you to see him.”
“It would be hard not to,” she laughed. “He’s often at our house. Some business with my father.”
“Fronah, before he comes this way, promise me one thing for old times’ sake,” Iain said urgently. “Promise we’ll see each other again and really talk.”
“Since you insist, Iain, I’ll try to think of some way. But only for old times’ sake. Don’t deceive yourself that it means anything more.”
Despite Fronah’s feigned hostility and Iain’s feigned contrition, both were pleased by their encounter. She was delighted that he still longed for her. He assured himself that he was already halfway to his goal. She could have avoided Jardines’ picnic, where she was certain to meet a Jardines cadet. Besides, she could have dropped a few words and walked away, knowing he couldn’t make a spectacle of himself by pursuing her.
As Gabriel Hyde approached, Fronah smiled and let her eyelashes fall languorously. She had brought Iain to heel again, which was good for him. And she knew again with passionate certainty that she loved him. Iain’s pale eyes glittered, and he licked his podgy lips. They’d meet again very soon, he was sure, and she’d be not only willing but eager. Besides, he did care for her, though even thinking of marriage was impossible.
Gabriel Hyde was trim in starched, choker-collared summer whites, but the peaked cap under his arm displayed a curled Imperial dragon rather than an American eagle. The three gold stripes of a commander gleamed on his black shoulder boards, though the lynx of his Chinese rank had supplanted the five-pointed star of a line officer of the U. S. Navy. Fronah knew that the few foreign officers in the Chinese service designed their own uniforms. Gabriel Hyde’s was modest beside the cascades of gold lace, the festoons of silver aiguilettes, and the rainbows of medal ribbons that adorned most of his fellow officers.
“Afternoon, Lieutenant,” Iain Matthews drawled offensively. “I am sorry, I should’ve said Commander. Or are you an admiral by now, Hyde? These Chinese ranks are so hard to keep in mind.”
“No trouble for me at all, young Matthews.” Hyde smiled coldly. “Afternoon, Miss Fronah. Keeping well, I see. You’re radiant today.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Fronah dimpled. “And you’re very handsome in your whites.”
“Very dashing in your sailor suit,” Iain Matthews sneered. “I feel so safe knowing you’re defending us from the terrible rebels.”
“Glad to hear you feel safe, young Matthews,” Hyde replied. “Now, Miss Fronah, I think the children’s hour is over. Won’t you take a turn by the river with me?”
Her chin high in triumph, Fronah touched Gabriel Hyde’s white sleeve with her fingertips. He suppressed a smile at the extravagantly ladylike gesture. The American, Fronah reflected, was again the useful foil he’d been at the Fourth of July ball. He had not only angered Iain but fanned the griffin’s jealousy. But, of course, Gabriel Hyde was no more than a foil.
CHAPTER 28
July 17, 1856
SHANGHAI
David, bent over the shipping ledger at his small desk in the corner of Saul Haleevie’s office, nodded a friendly greeting to Gabriel Hyde. The young Chinese wondered why the American chuckled as he accepted a cheroot from Saul.
He liked Hyde, though he sometimes resented the officer’s quizzically paternal manner toward Fronah. At least the American wasn’t out to seduce his sister, David told himself as he returned to the ledger. He did not know whether he wanted to go into business or to pursue the official career to which his elder brother Aaron was dedicated. But he would work hard at his commercial tasks because his industriousness pleased his adoptive father—and helped atone for his sin of running away with Fronah.
Though the door was wedged open and the window was latched against the outside wall, no breeze relieved the oppressive morning of July 17, 1856. The fringed punkah hanging from the ceiling merely roiled the humid air like a spoon stirring pea soup—when the coolie outside remembered to pull the cord. It was a wearing summer, inordinately hot and gravely troubled as the Taipings tightened their grip on the rich Yangtze Valley. All along the five-hundred-mile stretch from Wuchang to Chenkiang, the Citadel of the River a hundred fifty miles from Shanghai, the yellow banners of the Heavenly King fluttered unchallenged.
The complacent foreign community had finally awakened to its own peril when the commander of the shattered Imperial Army South of the Long River died of fever and despair in bivouac a week earlier. That death capped a series of Manchu disasters: the decisive defeat of the Water Force of Governor Tseng Kuo-fan in Kiangsi Province south of the Long River, and the rout of the Imperial infantry in Hupei Province to the north. After the elation that followed the birth of Yehenala’s son, the Dynasty would have despaired if it were not impenetrably shielded against reality by its arrogance. The Heavenly Kingdom of Great Peace had by July of 1856 attained its widest extent and its greatest power since it raised the standard of revolt in the remote Southeast six years earlier.
At home, Fronah had again cajoled Maylu into deceiving her parents. The concubine sat, sternly disapproving, in an adjoining room of the tenement in the South City where Fronah met Iain Matthews, the door always open so that she could see them. But Iain, Fronah confided to David, was becoming surly, demanding that she see him “really alone.” David feared the result when she finally yielded, as he knew she would. He had finally decided that his responsibility as an elder brother required him to protect Fronah from her own folly—and to preserve the family honor.
Lulled by the heat and the heavy odors of tea and camphor seeping from the godown below, David did not listen to the conv
ersation between his adoptive father and the naval officer. His attention was, however, aroused when Saul spoke briskly.
“So, Commander, you agree,” the merchant said, beaming. “Only two small shipments of watches consigned to Soochow and Wuhsi. Just drop them off at Chiangyin on your regular patrol.”
The American nodded and puffed on his cheroot. Through the gray smoke swirling around Gabriel Hyde’s head, David saw that his face was creased by an enormous smile.
“Nothing that isn’t aboveboard, Commander, nothing we couldn’t tell the Maritime Customs and the commodore of the Water Force.” Saul knew his reputation for absolute honesty would ensure that his word was accepted. “Your usual commission. Ten percent of the value C.I.F. Shanghai. I do wish you’d let me compensate you for your earlier trouble.”
“No payment for that, Mr. Haleevie.” Lounging in the cane armchair, Gabriel Hyde chuckled disconcertingly. “I shouldn’t have told you about the blockade dispositions that night. Too much to drink, perhaps.”
“I assure you, Commander, it wasn’t contraband. Just cotton goods that had to get there quickly.”
“Well, no payment for that, anyway. And I can’t do that sort of thing again.”
The American set both feet on the floor, his head bobbing and his shoulders heaving. His hands clutched his stomach as he choked on the cheroot’s smoke. When Saul smiled in sympathy, David saw that the American was convulsed with laughter.
“You’ve been grinning like a tiger since you came in, Commander,” Saul said. “Can you let me in on the joke?”
“It is funny … very funny.” Another spasm of laughter choked Hyde. “But … but … you may not think so.”
“Try me, Commander,” Saul offered. “I’m not so solemn.”
“One of those young sprigs at Jardines. Young lad called Iain Matthews. Do you know him, sir?”
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