“Are they well treated?” How odd that she could ask these questions so openly.
“Mistresses have a difficult life, subject to the whims of their consort. How they are treated depends upon the man and on the situation.”
She already knew Max would be kind. He would treat his woman well. But before she could do more than imagine such a fate, his brows drew together with a frown.
“You do not need to think of such things,” he said firmly. “I will see to your needs. You will not need to sell yourself.”
She had not thought about the money aspect. Only about his mouth on hers, his body entwined with hers. She knew the specifics, of course. She had helped her grandmother bring medicine to the whores in Canton. Indeed, her grandmotherran a lively business in cursing men who hurt women. By the time Yihui was ten, she had heard details that left her with no illusions about love or tenderness.
And yet, somehow her fantasies lingered whenever she looked at Max.
So they stood close to one another, walking slowly and focused only upon each other. Until he was jostled from behind. They were in a market area, and even he could not take up so much space and not be touched.
“Right,” he said, as he cleared his throat. “The apothecary is through there.”
“I will be fast. Your mother’s needs are small—”
“No,” he interrupted as he set his hand upon her knee. “You have caught the prince’s attention with your medicines. I’d like you to buy what you need to treat many ailments.”
That could be a very long list indeed. “What illnesses?”
He shrugged. “Many. I should like to see you work.”
Was this a test? To see if she was able to do as she said? “Will you report to the prince? If you think it is nonsense?”
“Yes.”
“And how will you know if it is false teaching?”
“The same way everyone does. Do those you treat get better?”
That was a tall order for even the best healers. Many patients never improved. “I have studied this all my life, but even the best cannot guarantee a body heals. Surely your own medicine men can do no better?”
“You already expect to fail?”
No, she expected to be judged unfairly. But if she believed in her training, then she would need to stand by it.
“I understand,” she said quietly, though her belly quivered in fear. It was so easy to blame the medicine for whatever ill occurred.
“Yihui, I need to know if it’s a lie. Prinny likes to chase new things. Chinoiserie is his newest hobby.”
“Then I am to teach him?”
His denial was swift. “No. You will teach me.”
If it were possible, she would willingly share everything she knew. She wanted to prove herself to everyone around. How else was she to gain customers? But not everyone was capable of learning these medicines. Her own brothers were thickheaded when it came to the subtleties of their profession.
“Max, is your mind open enough to learn?”
“I should think so,” he said as they crossed the street to the apothecary’s door. “You’ve already spent the day schooling me.”
He thought that was schooling? “I have not even begun.”
And so her task was set before her. She would fail miserably, of course. She could not imagine any powerful man who would stoop to learn from a foreign woman. But Max had proved himself surprising in so many ways already. Perhaps white men were different.
She entered the shop with hope, but the apothecary inside was not different. He was exactly as obnoxious, insulted, and pompous as she feared. Indeed, he matched her own father for arrogance. Fortunately, she knew he’d be well paid for whatever herbs she took from him, whole jars of ingredients some badly stored, some prepared too coarse, but serviceable nonetheless.
Then she saw a book on the table, one clearly meant as a recipe guide. She couldn’t read it yet, but she could figure it out. If she had a copy.
