Max’s brows went up. Such a man would have found employment in any of a thousand of different places. “What is wrong with him?”
“He’s Irish. And mouthy.”
Max chuckled. “But he can handle numbers?” He looked at the mound of papers. “Lots of numbers.”
“He prefers them to people.”
“Excellent. Send him to me at the house.” He finished his whisky and capped the bottle. Then he began gathering the papers into a satchel. He might as well get started on them tonight. The major took his cue, straightening up as well. He still looked apologetic, but definitely more at ease. Which made it the perfect opportunity for Max to strike.
“She’s at the Rose Garden, isn’t she? That’s how you know. Your mother owns that brothel.”
The major covered his reaction well, but Max had timed it perfectly. He saw the flash of shock in the man’s eyes quickly covered by a flat expression.
“I will not let this rest,” Max continued. Indeed, he was going there right now.
The man abruptly reached across the desk. His hand was large and calloused where it landed on Max’s arm, but it was not harsh. Indeed, it was almost kind.
“To what end?” he asked. “Think! It is best for both of you to let it be. She can move on with her life, and you certainly have plenty to settle in yours.”
Max shook off the man. “She’s in a brothel!”
“Not exactly!” The major huffed. “She’s not servicing customers. She’s doctoring the whores. She’s even getting anapothecary shop apart from the Rose Garden.” He looked hard at Max. “That’s everything she’s ever wanted, isn’t it? That’s what she told me.”
“Everything she’s ever wanted.” It wasn’t a question. He was echoing it to make sure the words sunk into his soul. He’d seen her mixing her teas. She’d been so happy then, likely in heaven right now if the major’s words were to be believed.
He swallowed. The logical part of his mind argued sternly that he should face the problems that had landed on his plate and not the woman who seemed to be happily settled.
He couldn’t do it. “I must see for myself.”
“And if you see her content?”
What would he do? Could he leave her to enjoy the rest of her life?
“She will hear no more from me.”
The major nodded, though the expression seemed resigned. “Then I will take you.” His gaze sharpened. “And once you have seen the truth of my words—”
“We will go home and drink the rest of my father’s whisky.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Three days—and moreimportant—three nights without Max had torn Yihui apart. She missed him with an ache that was completely nonsensical. She knew they could never marry. Hadn’t he said so? But the speed with which he had been ripped from her life left her reeling.
Once again, everything in her life had changed. First, it had been the morning her father had sold her to the Wong patriarch. She’d been on board the ship by evening and headed to England. The next time had been when she’d been brought before the English king. She’d longed for death that day. Instead, she’d killed Lao Gu and ended up protected inside Max’s home. She’d lived in luxury then, been cared for as the fever took hold, and made friends.
She’d been kissed by Max, and a great deal more. She began to dream again.
Until it had all been ripped away. Now she slept in an old building across from a whorehouse. Her thoughts were filled with plans for the garden, not wishes about marriage. She was in every way freer and safer here, away from the machinations of men.
She was content now, or so she told herself. Unless it was at night, when she ached for Max. Then she let silly tears slip down her cheeks as she wished, prayed, and wanted a man who could not be hers.
At those times, she forgot how hard she had fought for this opportunity. She discounted the bargain she’d struck with Madame Sebata. And she pretended she was too broken in mind and body to escape the lady’s traps.
But by morning, she rose and went to work again.
The bargain was simple. She lived and worked in the building across from the Rose Garden. She would till the garden, manage customers, tend the whores, and pay rent plus interest on the monies forwarded to her to set up shop. If she failed to pay, they would own more and more of her business until she had nothing left.
If they betrayed her, she would poison them.
