“Lao Gu and the captain. Liars. They kept most of the bribe for themselves.”
He couldn’t care less about the silk or spices. “Are you the daughter of—”
“No. No.” She was speaking more clearly now, her voice strong and steady. “My father sold me to the Wong patriarch to pay his debts.” She leaned forward, gripping the edges of the palanquin window as she pleaded with him. “Do not let them near me. They will kill me—”
“You are safe with me.”
“You cannot trust what they say!”
Obviously, but there were still diplomatic issues to sort out. He couldn’t just throw them into the street on her word alone. He didn’t know how much official standing they had with the Chinese government.
“I will not trust them—”
“You cannot let them know what I told you. You cannot—”
Another rut had her gripping the litter again, and he dared cover her small hand with his own as the donkey cart steadied.
“You are safe with me,” he said. “I promise.”
She looked at him and he read a mix of hope and desperation in her eyes. What could she have endured during the six-month voyage to England? The possibilities were as varied as they were horrifying.
“How did you learn English?” he asked.
“I knew some before. Then I practiced on the boat.” She lifted her chin as if daring him to doubt it. “I am very smart.”
“I can see that.” So many questions he wanted to ask. Who was she really, what had her life been like? But they were nearing his home. Their opportunity for private conversation would soon end. He had to suppress his curiosity in favor of learning the most pressing matters. “What do they want?”
“Lao Gu convinced the Wong patriarch that this is the best way to win favor with the English king. He expects to live expensively as my protector.” The venom with which she said “protector” was obvious. “He will rob you in every way.”
“And the captain?”
“He has favored trade status with the Wongs. If the bribe works, he will have much of the silk trade from China.”
“But he’s English. He knows Prinny can’t take a wife.”
“He knows England wants to please China.”
It was true. The Chinese had no interest in English goods. The market for Chinoiserie, however, was as strong as ever. If it weren’t for the opium, the Chinese would shut their borders to the English completely. Indeed, they had tried to do it several times already.
Meanwhile Yihui pressed forward. “He will tell you to write a good letter to the Hoppo. Agree, then write one saying terriblethings. Say they beat women and kill children for sport. Tell them—”
“Is any of that true?”
She looked away, but her chin didn’t lower. “They bought me. They broke my feet!” Her gaze went to his. “There was another girl, too. She died, and they threw her overboard!”
“Did they kill her?”
She shook her head. “Fever. It is how I was allowed out. I knew medicines to treat the sick.”
“You know medicines?”
Her head snapped up. “I know very many medicines. I was important back home! Many patients!”
He doubted that. Important people weren’t sold by their fathers to cover debts. But he didn’t argue with her. Now was not the time to discuss her skills. They were arriving at his home, and he would need to manage a diplomatic incident without giving his mother a heart attack.
Already people were lined up on the street, watching their very strange procession. God, what a ridiculous spectacle. His father was going to be furious. As a duke and the leader of the conservatives, his father despised anything that grabbed popular attention, especially if it ridiculed their family. Max shuddered, imagining the cartoons already being drawn about this. But that was a problem for later. Right now, Max had to focus on Yihui and how to help her.
He studied her, his thoughts spinning as he took in her face and form. She wore a great deal of make-up, all of it very dramatic. He couldn’t deny how very interesting that made her appear. White skin, red lips, dark eyelashes swept up into her black hair.
