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While at the consulate, Robert often slipped into a trance and stared at the wall. He thought about Ward. He narrowed his possible enemies to three men he had angered since coming to China. First, there was General Frederick Townsend Ward, the American mercenary. If he hadn’t forced the general at gunpoint to sell Ayaou to him, Shao-mei might still be alive.
“Master,” Guan-jiah said.
Caught-off guard, Robert jerked.
The eunuch put a tray on the desk. There was a steaming teapot on it and a cup with a lid. “This tea will help calm your nerves.” Guan-jiah took a step back, folded his hands together and kowtowed.
He lifted the lid on the cup. Steam escaped. “How do you know that I need of something to calm down? What’s in this?” he asked. “It smells familiar.”
“That would be the chrysanthemums. I have added orchids, jasmine, black tea, green tea and some peppermint. It is a blend I developed. I suggest you allow me to bring you some each morning to help you work.”
“Good idea,” he replied.
Guan-jiah left. Robert took a sip. Then he put the cup down and placed the lid on so the tea would steep. He returned to his paperwork. It didn’t take long before his mind drifted back to his problems and the other two men.
The second man was Unwyn Fiske, someone Robert angered during a battle with Taipings over opium. He wished there was some way he could erase the hate Unwyn felt for him. He didn’t understand why the man blamed him for wanting to save those boat people from the Taiping rebels. He had no idea what Captain Patridge had done to the man since he complained. He dreaded finding out. Had Unwyn lost his job because of Robert’s complaints? If so, where was the man? Was he seeking revenge?
He picked up the tea and lifted the lid. He buried his nose in the aromatic scent. The heat and fragrance of the ingredients acted as a balm. Guan-jiah had been right.
If Captain Patridge hadn’t invited him to spend his holiday at the captain’s summerhouse on Zhoushan Island during the summer of 1855, Robert would have never met Ayaou. It hadn’t helped that Captain Patridge was the principal agent for the largest British opium merchant in China.
It didn’t take long for him to fall in love with Ayaou. On the other hand, love came with a price. Robert had to help the captain smuggle opium into parts of China where it was outlawed. In return, Patridge had promised to protect him and Ayaou from Ward.
That hadn’t worked out.
He shook his head to snap out of the trance. He sipped tea and checked to see if anyone had noticed. Dr. Winchester, the consul in Ningpo, was in another room busy with a British merchant making sure the man didn’t avoid paying the legal duty for exported goods. The other two assistants were out, probably on ships checking manifests. He sighed. Good, he was alone.
He didn’t want anyone to see that there were moments when he stopped working. How would he explain that he was struggling to figure out a way to keep the woman he loved alive? They didn’t know he had a concubine. Ayaou was his greatest secret. If his parents and friends in Ireland discovered he’d bought a woman, they’d never forgive him.
The third man he angered was Payne Hollister. Payne had been the British consul in Ningpo when Robert arrived at his first duty station in 1854. They worked together for a few months before Hollister quit and sailed away. It was his fault that Payne held a grudge against him. After all, he had seduced Payne’s concubine, Me-ta-tae. To get even, Payne raped Shao-mei making her pregnant. Robert wasn’t sure he could forgive himself for that since his actions were the cause.
He slipped a hand inside his vest and rubbed an ache growing in his gut. It was a constant burning pain born with Shao-mei’s death. It was growing as if it had a life of its own.
Robert had decided to become the child’s stepfather, and with Guan-jiah’s help hide the truth that the child was illegitimate. Together, they had planned to keep the secret so the child would grow up without being branded a bastard. Guan-jiah had been excited at the prospect of becoming the child’s adopted uncle. He had been crushed after the unborn baby had died with Shao-mei.
* * * *
After the attempted break in, Robert’s ability to sleep deteriorated. He awoke several times every night and saw Ward’s face in the dark. The mercenary’s eyes stared at him. Ward’s teeth flashed and his tongue snaked in and out of that open wound in the side of his cheek like a fat, mangled, blood sausage.
"She was always mine, Hart,” the grotesque face said. When he heard Ward’s demonic laugh, he sweated.
“No!” Robert yelled and woke Ayaou.
“What is it?” Ayaou asked.
“Nothing! Go back to sleep!”
“You’ve soaked the sheets.” She touched him. “You are covered in sweat. You will get sick if you do not dry off.”
“Leave me alone.” He left the bedroom to search the house for intruders. He carried the revolver with the hammer cocked. He looked like a pale wraith floating naked from room to room through the darkness—one phantom chasing another.
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Honorable Mention in General Fiction
