Yihui shook her head, amazed. “You are not afraid?”
“Everyone knows me there. I am perfectly safe.”
Was England truly so safe a place for women? The thought overcame her for a moment. The idea that a woman could feel protected outside, away from men, to walk—to run and swim—by herself. Such heaven.
The amazement must have been clear on her face because the lady leaned forward. “Were you never free in China?”
“I lived in Canton. It is a very large city. There are many dangers for a girl alone.”
“I suppose there are here, too. For the men as well, but in a different way.” She shrugged. “I do not go out alone in London.”
“But you are allowed to dance, yes?”
“I love to dance.”
“Are you taught to fight?”
Emmaline pulled back. “Not at all! Were you taught that in China?”
She seemed to be intrigued by the idea, but Yihui had to shake her head. “Not usually,” she confessed. “My grandmother taught me. My father often needed me to mix special medicines and bring them to him wherever he worked. Other doctors would send messages to the shop. I would mix them and carry the medicine to the patient.”
“Was that dangerous?”
“Sometimes. My grandmother taught me where to hit or kick a man. And I can run very fast.” Or she could before. She might never run again.
Emmaline understood the direction of her thoughts. “Why do you allow it? I couldn’t imagine letting anyone break my feet.”
“I did not allow it,” Yihui said coldly.
“Oh. Yes, but…”
“Wealthy girls are bound when they are very little and cannot fight back. It is a hard process with many tears, but how else is the child to get a husband when she is grown?”
“Your feet were not bound. How were you to find a husband?”
She flushed and looked away. “I was a difficult daughter. I did not like the men who wanted me and so…” She shrugged.
“So you made them not want you?” Emmaline pressed. “If so, then we are alike.”
“You have many men who wish marriage?”
The grimace on her face was comical. “Many stupid ones.”
Yihui sighed. “Smart men are rare.”
They both laughed as one might with a sister. Except that Emmaline’s laugh was full and musical. She did not cover her mouth with her hand and titter but made full expression. Such freedom English woman had. The ability to run outside was miracle enough. It was clear Emmaline had very little fear, too, and Yihui admired the innocence of it. Her own childhood had been quickly bounded, not on her feet, but with rules and responsibilities. She had care of her younger brother when she was three. She began working in the shop soon after that. There was not much that a young child could do safely among such things, but in China, the whole family worked or the whole family starved. That applied double to the girls for they would be the first denied food if times were lean.
She did not fault Emmaline for her innocence. Instead, she longed to remain near it. As if staying in this woman’s presence would somehow clean her of her constant worries. It was the dream of a child. This woman was a pampered daughter of England. Yihui could no more live in her shoes than she could sprout wings and fly. And yet, she wanted to share the lady’s life until circumstances forced them apart.
“Tell me about your men of bad quality,” Yihui asked.
“What?”
“And I will tell you about old Gao with the crooked teeth and clammy hands who would pay more if I let him whisper strange things into my ear.”
“Strange things? Like what?”
That was not something for this lady to know. “I don’t know. I never allowed it.”
