“Neither am I! I did not expect to be saddled with a Chinese girl.” And now they were simply repeating themselves.
“Max—”
Her words were cut off as a roar sounded throughout the whole house. It was the mandarin’s voice, and he was clearly furious.
“Damn it,” Max cursed. “I had meant to stop him in the stable, not bring it back here.”
They listened as feet thudded up the stairs. The bastard must have escaped Chiverton and was now running up to Yihui’s room.
“Go,” she said, though he was already headed out the door. “I’ll put on my Ophelia face and sit in wan, devoted, patience.”
This time Max did roll his eyes. “I am not Hamlet!” he snapped. And he was grateful that she didn’t remark at how very Hamlet-like that outburst was.
Chapter Six
Yihui sat ina chair, her head pressed against the window and her feet throbbing in agony. She wanted to lie on the bed but couldn’t move across the room to accomplish it. They’d broken her feet and now how was she going to survive?
Her eyes drifted closed, but she was too frightened to rest. Her ears were attuned to the noises in this house, to the sound of restless feet, to anything that might signal danger. She heard nothing alarming, and for that, she was grateful to the blue-eyed Englishman.
She’d known men in her life who were kind. Decent men who treated their servants with honor, even the women. They spoke kindly and paid their bills. She knew one who had a laugh like a summer breeze and another who winked when he found something funny, which was often. Never had she expected to meet one in England, and yet somehow she had.
Even when she couldn’t completely follow the spoken word—English accents were variable and strange—she could see from observing Max that he was a good man. Unfortunately, she had no faith that a good man could manage in this world. They inevitably got crushed by something. One could not care for everyone and still maintain a safe world for oneself. He had to have limits and when something went wrong, she, as the foreigner, would be left out in the cold.
And yet, that did not stop her from imagining his smile and remembering the strength in his arms as he carried her. He waspowerful in body and pleasing to her eye. Funny how even the strangest physical appearance became appealing when set on a kind man. She’d always thought the English to be big, ungainly apes who smelled bad. Instead, she found Max strong, his hair intriguing, and his smile captivating.
But only a fool relied on a stranger with a charming smile. Her best hope was to rid herself of her captors—both Chinese and English—and make a life for herself however she could. But first, her feet had to heal. As soon as the door had shut behind Max, she had untied her binds, rebroken what had begun to heal crooked, and prayed that she was never again alone with any of her Chinese captors.
For a while the pain overwhelmed her, and she allowed it. She had lost everything, so if she wallowed in despair in this strange yellow room, then who would blame her? She would count on Max’s promise of safety for a little bit.
The commotion roused her from her despair. Someone’s fury, someone else’s dismissal mixed into her dream, or perhaps they shaped her dream by pulling up horrific memories. Six months on board the English ship had not been easy. Pain, fever, stench. The memories set her heart racing with terror even before her door banged open.
She jolted awake with a cry, only to have fear choke off the sound.
Lao Gu stood framed in her doorway, his face contorted in fury. He pointed a harsh finger at her as he spit out his venom.
“You have failed, fat-foot bitch. We leave now.”
She recoiled, and in her fear, she pressed down on her feet. Agony shot through her body.
She cried out, the pain whiting out everything else until her head snapped to the side. It was a moment before she realized he’d slapped her. She hadn’t even felt the blow because the pain in her feet was all-consuming. Instinct and long custom madeher throw up her arms to shield her face, but the one blow was all he intended.
He towered over her, glaring down at her unbound feet.
“You have destroyed your own chances,” he growled. Then with deliberate cruelty, he set his boot upon her nearest foot and pressed down.
She screamed as pain exploded through her body. She struck out with little thought beyond trying to hurt him back. She knew where a man’s organ was even when covered by layers of clothing, and she had strong hands to grip the thing until he squeaked like the pig he was.
She found it.
She clenched down as best she could, tightening and twisting as she poured all her pain into what she did. But it was not enough.
He threw himself backwards and his tiny jinjing slipped away.
“Gutter dog! I will tie you down and laugh as the foreigners grunt on you.”
She hadn’t the strength to fight him. And when she looked for help, she saw Weed and Pervert maneuver into the room. They were carrying her trunk of clothing, but they dropped it with a heavy thud on the floor. Fear and pain choked her. Other times, she’d had words to throw at them. Curses and threats from her ghost if no one else, but she was disoriented and exhausted. In short, she was broken, and now she was no more than the animal they named her with no voice beyond a howl.
“Take her,” Lao Gu ordered.
