“Why uncle send you to this place?”
A brief hesitation. “I believe he wanted me to discover something about my past. My mother…she was Chinese.”
“Hmm.” Ming stroked his beard and said nothing more.
Rhys narrowed his gaze. “Do you have something to say, sir?”
“Not me. But you, yes. You half-Chinese, half-English duke and now conflict between China and Britain over opium trade, what have you to say?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I do not dabble in politics,” Rhys said coldly.
“Maybe should do more than dabble. Maybe take up cause like Gladstone.” The Chinese man’s eyebrows winged. “Maybe make a difference.”
While Maggie wasn’t well versed in politics, Hypatia read the newspapers and kept her informed about current events, including the conflicts with China. According to Patty, William Gladstone, a prominent politician, opposed Britain’s policy of using opium to barter for the much sought-after Chinese goods. Although the Chinese Emperor had banned the drug, the British continued to find ways to import it into China, causing widespread societal harm.
Tensions were high between the two countries, a possible war brewing.
Maggie looked curiously at Rhys, wondering what his views on the subject were. Now that she knew more about the tragedy with his mama, she wondered how he felt about that part of his legacy. About belonging to two cultures.
Or, in his case, she thought with empathy, neither one.
“I shall consider it,” Rhys said stiffly. “Now are you going to help me or not?”
Ming shrugged. “Plum Forest around long time. Restaurant in Limehouse, known only to Chinese. Serve sailors, mostly. Good food.”
The new information filled Maggie with excitement. She blurted, “Should we go now?”
Ming frowned in disproval. “Mrs. Kent put effort into ball. She wishes to entertain her family andfriends.”
“Forgive me, I meant no offense.” Abashed by her rudeness, Maggie added, “Mrs. Kent has been kindness itself to us. We would not miss her ball, of course.”
Ming appeared mollified. “No use going now anyway. Plum Forest not open late. Give you address; you go tomorrow morning.”
“We will.” Rhys bowed. “Thank you, sir.”
Ming returned the courtesy. “Enjoy the evening.”
“Maggie, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Maggie, who’d just found a quiet spot beneath a potted palm, turned to see her hostess approaching. Tessa Kent looked like an exquisite doll in an ivory satin gown trimmed with a feather fringe, diamonds at her ears and throat. In her tow were three other ladies: a brunette, a golden blonde, and a redhead. All were as uniquely beautiful as she.
“I wanted to introduce you to some family and friends.” Tessa turned first to the buxom brunette dressed in claret taffeta. “Emma, Duchess of Strathaven, may I present to you Margaret Foley?”
“A pleasure, Your Grace.” Maggie curtsied low.
“As Tessa has told me we have dispensed with formalities, you must call me Emma.”
The lady’s warm smile and no-nonsense manner put Maggie at ease.
“And I’m Polly,” the golden blonde said shyly. Her aquamarine jewelry matched her stunning eyes. “Another of Tessa’s sisters-in-law.”
“She’s also the Duchess of Acton,” Tessa said.
When Rhys said the Kents married well, he wasn’t joking,Maggie mused.
“And I’ll just introduce myself since I’m always nervous meeting people for the first time and when I’m nervous I tend to chatter nonsensically.” The torrent of words came from the voluptuous redhead, whose eyes were the pure sky blue of her flounced and ruffled gown. “May I say how much I admire your necklace? It’s unusual and ever so lovely. Oh, and I’m Gabriella Garrity.”
Blooming hell.Maggie jolted. Gabriella couldn’t be related tothatGarrity…could she?
