“You are taller than me, but I believe this will fit.”
I stared with awe at the beautiful skirt and tunic Precious Spring held up for my approval. The red silk could scarce be more opposite from Julia Whipple’s modest white frock. The silk was interwoven with gold brocade designs of dragons and phoenixes, something a lady in Britain would never imagine herself wearing, of course! The high collar was unlike anything I had ever seen in fashion.
“This is a wedding dress,” Precious Spring said. “Red is the color we wear for good luck.”
“Why dragons and phoenixes?” I said, pointing to a wingless dragon and a flaming, crested phoenix.
“We believe they are also good luck and symbolize the emperor and empress, the balance of male and female power.” She smiled shyly. “The Bible speaks of the submission of a wife to her husband, but Glory and I see the dragon and phoenix as symbolizing the balance of that submission to a husband’s charge to care for and treasure his wife.”
She looked at me anxiously. “Do you like it? Phineas asked me to find you a dress.”
I could only imagine how Catherine Ransom would scoff at the color and style. Red, I understood without having to be told, was a symbol of joy, an emotion one should experience on her wedding day. I thought of Julia Whipple and her white dress, and I suddenly felt exceedingly sorry for her.
“It is beautiful, Precious Spring,” I said. “Was this your dress?”
She nodded. “I hope you do not mind that I have offered you a borrowed dress, but there was no time to make one of your own.”
“It is a great kindness, and I would be honored to wear it,” I said. “Will you help me put it on?”
She smiled, and I knew then how much she had wanted to please Phineas. Precious Spring and Glory were obviously old and dear friends of his. That made me want to please him too, and I sensed that my wearing a traditional Chinese wedding dress would do so.
“No matter how fine the material or exquisite the design, the dress would only be secondary to your beautiful face.”
His words returned to me as Precious Spring helped me dress. Was it possible Phineas not only thought me beautiful but more importantly loved me?
The silk brocade felt cool and soft against my skin, the heavier gold images chasing one another in a pleasing pattern. It had long, loose sleeves, and the tunic itself flowed past my hips, the skirt falling close at my ankles. I touched the cloth with wonder that I could wear something so fine. I confess that the color was foreign to me as I was accustomed to light shades, certainly nothing so bold and bright. Oddly, however, it made me feel daring and… dare I say happy?
Precious Spring stepped back to study me. Her frown alarmed me. “Is something wrong?” I said, anxious to look beautiful, indeed. Did I look ridiculous? Did the color not suit my complexion? Did I look too… British?
“I have forgotten the head covering. Will you allow me to style your hair? I cannot fix it properly as we should, but I’ll try my best.”
“Yes, of course.” Vanity claimed me, and I added, “Do I do justice to your clothes?”
I had my answer in her smile.
Precious Spring fashioned my hair into a bun. “It is the style of married women,” she said, standing back to admire her work. “Now we will add the head covering, and you will be ready.”
A knock sounded at the door, then I heard Phineas speaking Chinese. “Is my bride not ready?”
Precious Spring’s face beamed. “It is time for the door games, a wedding custom.”
“What?”
“Ordinarily the groom would come to the bride’s home, and her friends would play games to keep him from taking her. That means she is much loved and her family and friends do not want her to leave.” She winked at me. “Watch. I must make him prove that he cares for you.”
She opened the door, and Phineas stood there in full Chinese dress, an oddly shaped cap on his head. He blinked at my appearance, then smiled. He tried to enter, but Precious Spring blocked his way. “Who is your bride?” she said, her voice teasing.
“I am not certain now,” he said. “Her name is Isabella Goodrich, but the woman in there looks more Chinese than her British name would allow.”
“Why would you marry a British woman?”
“Because of who she is inside, not because she is British, of course.”
“And who is she inside?”
Phineas dropped all teasing pretense in his voice. “She is a believer, foremost. She cares about others.” His gaze found and held mine. “She is a strong woman.”
I blushed and glanced away.
Precious Spring laughed, continuing the game. “Why would you want a strong woman? Do you want a boss?”
I waited for his answer. “I want an equal,” he finally said, so quietly it was as though he were speaking only to me.
My heart soared. He smiled and handed a red envelope to Precious Spring. “If my answers will not convince you, I have money to buy my way in.”
Precious Spring accepted it, pretending to consider for a moment. At last she stepped aside. She smiled at me. “Your groom seems to want you, Isabella.” Phineas started to enter, but she shrieked and blocked his way again. “Wait! I forgot the head covering. Turn around, Isabella, quickly!”
She ran for a bureau and fished a red silk square from the bottom drawer. She arranged it over my head, with the unfortunate result that it blocked my vision abominably. Phineas took my arm and led me through the door back to the main room. I squinted through the silk and saw that the wall now held a large red banner with the symbol for happiness-no, it was the single symbol, doubled. Extra happiness.
Precious Spring saw that I recognized its meaning. “May you both be happy,” she said softly.
Phineas led me to a low table beneath the banner. Glory stood opposite us, and a teapot with cups sat between us and him. “You will kneel three times,” Glory said. “In a traditional wedding, it is to the heaven and earth, your ancestors, and your parents. For you, let it be to God, your ancestors, and your living parents. Then you will kneel to each other.”
We did so, solemnly. Glory poured tea in the cups. “Normally, the bride would offer the tea to parents and other relatives,” he said. “In return, they would give you gifts like jewelry or money in a red envelope. Since you have no family present, drink to them, to God, and to each other.”
I thought about Uncle Toby as I sipped the tea. Had he received the letter I had written in Cape Town? Did he know I was safe? He could not possibly dream that I was about to marry.
After we finished the tea, Glory stood. Phineas and I did as well. “Traditionally, you would now be considered married,” Glory said. “But as we are believers, the rest of the ceremony will be from the Book of Common Prayer.” He cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate, instituted of God…”
I had been in attendance at many weddings, all of which I had found to be quite lengthy. Glory read the entire ritual as written in the Book of Common Prayer, yet before I knew it, he said, “Phineas, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
I thought Phineas smiled at me, but because of the head covering, I could not be certain. “I will,” he answered solemnly.
Then Glory said to me, “Isabella, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will.” Oh yes. Yes. I am not certain when it happened, but I love this man.
There was no one to give me away, so Glory himself clasped Phineas’s right hand to my own. Then Phineas repeated after Glory. “I, Phineas, take thee, Isabella, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
I was certain he could see right through my red head covering, for his gaze seemed focused completely on mine. Tears formed at the edge of my vision. I had dreamed of being loved and cherished by a man, but never one like Phineas.
Glory loosened our clasp, then bade me take Phineas’s hand and repeat after him. I did not think I would be able to say the words, for a lump of joy lodged in my throat. “I, Isabella, take thee, Phineas, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”
Glory asked for a ring. I turned to Phineas, certain he would be embarrassed at his lack. To my surprise, he laid a lovely green ring on the book Glory held, as I had seen countless grooms do. Glory took the ring and handed it back to Phineas, who placed it on the third finger of my left hand. “With this ring I thee wed,” Phineas repeated after Glory, though the words sounded as though they were written just for us, “with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
The rest of Glory’s final words were a blur: “… God hath joined together let no man put asunder… consented together in holy wedlock, I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Though it was not in accordance with a Chinese wedding, after the Christian portion of the ceremony was concluded, Phineas lifted the red head covering to reveal my face. He looked at me as though it were the first time, then smiled. He kissed me sweetly, a soft touching of our lips, and when he straightened beside me-my husband now-I realized the enormity of what I had done.
Glory and Precious Spring laid out a great deal of food for us to eat: chicken, fish, a special soup that, naturally, was to bring us good luck. (I believe someone said it contained lotus seeds-whatever those were!) I ate it all in enjoyment, only afterward feeling much guilt. Glory and Precious Spring obviously did not have much money. I hoped we had not eaten a month’s worth of their food. It certainly seemed as though we had.
While we were dining and laughing, I noticed that Precious Spring disappeared for a while. I assumed she was tending to Honor, who had slept peacefully through the entire ceremony. At last she returned and nudged Glory, who had just said something that made Phineas and me laugh.
“Glory, it is late.” Her voice carried just a hint of scolding.
Glory rose. “Yes, of course.” He motioned for Phineas and me to rise. Somehow he and Glory got behind us, maneuvering us toward the room where I had dressed. Smiling, Precious Spring opened the door. The bed had been changed to red linens, and a dragon and phoenix candle glowed on an adjacent table. Next to the candle sat two goblets filled with wine, attached to one another with a red string.
Still smiling, Glory and Precious Spring herded Phineas and me forward, forcing us to sit on the bed. Phineas may have understood this apparent tradition, but I did not. Surely my face reflected my mortification!
Glory and Precious Spring smiled fondly at us, as though we were two children. “You know that we would normally tease you both, but instead we will simply say good night,” Glory said.
I rose. “But… but this is your room. We cannot take it.”
“It is our only room for sleeping, so tonight it is yours,” Precious Spring said, then winked. “Would you rather sleep on a mat?”
“Thank you,” Phineas said, acknowledging the gift. “You have made this a wonderful day. A wonderful wedding.”
Retreating, Glory and Precious Spring smiled, softly closing the door behind them.
I continued to stand, unnerved. “We have been alone together many nights,” Phineas said softly, touching my hand, rising beside me.
“But not like this,” I said. Tonight there would be no canvas sail between us. To change the subject, I gestured at the wine glasses. “What is the significance?”
He lifted one and handed it to me. “Can you not guess?” He took the other, then crossed arms with me. He drank from his glass, and I drank from mine. Then we drank from each other’s glass, smiling as we tried not to tangle the string between them.
We sat down again, side by side, and Phineas took my hand. “A Chinese legend says God ties a red string around the ankles of the man and woman who are destined to become husband and wife.” He touched my cheek, his voice husky. “No matter how far apart they are, they will eventually get married.”
I covered his hand with mine. “Phineas,” I murmured.
“Do you not know that God has brought us together, Isabella?” He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to my lips. “We were born worlds apart, yet we are here together now. For many men, the first time they see their bride’s face is when they remove the red veil at their marriage bed.” His voice dropped even lower. “I am thankful to have known you much longer than that.”
I nodded, unable to speak. My heart beat faster, then there was no need for words…
Later I lay in his arms, full of wonder and joy as bold as the red silk sheets. The dragon and phoenix candle burned lower, and I could barely see my husband’s face. “You have not spoken of Wo-Ping and Mei in a long while,” I said, teasing.
He laughed softly, kissing my temple as he twirled a strand of my hair between his fingers. “Didn’t I tell you? They gave up fighting each other and joined forces to fight for righteousness. They had no need of secrets, and they kept nothing from each other.”
My thoughts turned serious. “And you? Have you any need to keep secrets from me?”
He ceased playing with my hair. “What secrets do you wish to know?”
“Are you still harboring a desire for revenge on the East India Company?”
“That has not been a secret from you for a long time.”
I raised up on an elbow. “Then that is still your plan? Despite that you know my feelings?”
“Isabella.” He eased me back down. “Would I ask you to abandon your dream?”
“Mine is different,” I said stubbornly. “Mine is God’s work.”
“Mine is too. You have seen the people addicted to opium since we have been here, have you not?”
I closed my eyes. Yes, I had seen them. They loitered near buildings with apparently no place to go, their eyes vacant, their feet only good for shuffling without purpose. I had not seen the opium dens where they smoked away their lives-and no doubt the futures of wives and children as well-but I knew they existed.
“You have seen them,” he insisted. “Their numbers will only increase. Every year the British bring in more opium even though it has been illegal to import in China for nearly twenty years. The British will not suddenly acquire a conscience and stop the trade.”
“I am British,” I said, my eyes stinging with tears. “My countrymen could not do such a thing. Do you think that Captain Malfort or Thomas Gilpin or Mr. Calow, for that matter, would harm a fellow human being?”
“They do not see this country as you do, Isabella,” Phineas said. “They are not willing to share their true feelings with a lady, but their business-nay, their whole lives-are concerned with bringing Britain her tea. At any cost whatsoever.”
“Then would you have Britain take over China and move here so that she might have the pleasure of yum cha?”
“I would not, but there are those in Britain who would gladly annex my country solely for her tea.”
I could not help the tears that pricked my eyes. “Your country, Phineas? You told me you have spent over half your life in Britain. To which country do you belong-England or China?”
He lifted my hand and kissed my fingers. “I want only to belong to you.”
“Then give up this foolish plan of revenge.”
“If I do, it will mean that you give up your dream, for I am headed inland with my partners for the golden tea leaf. Was it not your plan to travel farther into China to spread the gospel?”
“Yes, but-”
“I am traveling to the Mo Tong mountains,” he continued. “They are in the Hupei Province where there are many monasteries and temples.”
“Monasteries and temples? No one there would listen to me.”
“Perhaps you do not believe in your mission,” he said.
I said nothing. How could I respond?
“The monks would not even see you-or me-for neither of us are fully Chinese,” he said gently, covering my silence, “but the villagers in the province might. I do not believe any Christians have traveled to that area.”
“What you offer, then, is a chance to fulfill my calling, yet at the cost of seeing you fulfill what you believe is yours. Even though I disagree with it strongly.”
“That is the way of it.”
All the joy of our wedding evaporated like cold water on hot stones. “Blackmail seems to have been the way of our relationship since the beginning.” Moisture gathered in my eyes, despite my effort to stop it. “We have come so far, Phineas. I do not want to lose you.”
“Isabella.” Phineas wiped a tear from my cheek. “Isabella, please do not cry. I would see you happy, not sad. Our love will be well. But I have a duty-a calling-as you have yours. Can we not both be true to that?”
Perhaps we could, but I wept anyway because I did not believe that in the process we could be true to one another.
Morning brought a fair amount of awkwardness, for though we had spent countless nights in adjacent hammocks aboard ship, we had never been husband and wife. I found myself blushing when, in my early morning grogginess, I threw out my arm and hit Phineas across the chest. I am not certain who was more startled-he, because I woke him from sleep, or I, because he was so close beside me. He smiled at me and pulled me closer yet. It was still nearly beyond belief that I should find myself wed, but our first morning together made me more cheerfully accustomed to our situation.
My old gray dress lay neatly folded where I had laid it the previous day before donning the wedding dress, but Phineas retrieved new clothes for me from Precious Spring, a loose-fitting skirt and long blouse made of dark cotton. He handed them to me, and I ducked behind a screen to dress. He might have thought me overly modest, but he was kind enough to speak to me of practical matters while I donned the clothing. “You must look Chinese if we are to leave Macao,” he said. “Remember that no foreign ladies are allowed to leave here. But with your dark hair styled properly and if you act like a proper wife, keeping her head down, no one should suspect you are not Chinese.”
“How should I act?”
He grinned. “Though it will grieve you, you must obey me.”
“That does not sound so very different from Britain,” I said mildly. “Wives are expected to obey their husbands there as well.”
“Are they expected to walk behind their husbands? For that is what you must do when we are in public, Isabella.”
“Very well.” It would no doubt grieve me, but I could act the role.
I emerged from behind the screen, and Phineas studied me as I adjusted the skirt and tunic. His frank gaze made me blush, but he smiled tenderly. “You should have a Chinese name. I cannot very well refer to you as Isabella when we are within the city walls of Canton.”
“Is your family name not Wong? That should be mine too,” I said.
“Names are not the same in China as in Britain. A woman does not take her husband’s name but retains the name of her father’s clan. It would be disrespectful to do otherwise. I only have my mother’s family name because my father was British.”
“But I have no Chinese clan at all,” I said. “May I not take yours?”
He touched my shoulder, then smoothed the length of my arm. Again, I blushed. I was unaccustomed to such familiarity, though I confess I did not find it displeasing. “You may have my family name, for indeed we belong fully to each other now,” he said softly. “I think Wong Si-yan would be a beautiful name for you.”
“Wong Si-yan,” I repeated, trying it out. “And it means…” I struggled to put the words together.
“Gracious Thoughts,” he murmured, his fingers caressing the nape of my neck.
I closed my eyes despite myself. “I do not believe that your own thoughts are gracious at the moment,” I murmured. “Perhaps they are of another nature?”
Phineas laughed softly then kissed me…
Precious Spring was feeding Honor when we entered the main room of the bamboo house. Her eyes lit like small firecrackers when she saw us, and she served us congee- rice porridge-for breakfast. I held Honor on my lap and played with him while Phineas, Glory, and Precious Spring discussed our impending journey. I picked up enough of their discussion to learn the details of our journey to Canton. They could not have been averse to my participation in the conversation, but in truth, I enjoyed Honor’s company. He was a happy baby who gurgled and smiled most obligingly at the silly faces I presented him. I bounced him on my knee, and he squealed with pleasure. I confess that Lewis had never allowed himself to be amused in such a way, and Honor’s reactions delighted me much more, I am certain, than I delighted him.
“He likes you,” Precious Spring said, sitting beside me.
“I like him. He is a cheerful baby. You and Glory are indeed blessed.” Phineas and Glory had finished their discussion and were watching us, so I reluctantly handed Honor back to his mother.
“May you have many sons,” Precious Spring said softly.
“I would gladly have a dozen if they were each like Honor,” I said.
Phineas approached, smiling, evidently having heard my words, though he did not speak of them. “We must leave, Isabella.”
“So soon?” I did not want to impose on Glory and Precious Spring’s hospitality, but I felt great contentment within their bamboo walls.
Phineas nodded. “We must be on our way to Canton.”
“You are forgetting something.” Precious Spring went back to the bedroom and retrieved a long switch of black hair. She motioned Phineas to sit, and she skillfully wove the hair into his much shorter queue. At first I thought the switch was from the tail of a horse, but when Precious Spring had finished her weaving, I realized it was Phineas’s own hair.
“I had to cut the length when I left China, and I must wear it again when I return,” he said.
“It is law that a man must wear a queue in China and is punishable by death if he does not,” Glory said. “It is the same with a shaved head.”
I glanced at Phineas, alarmed. “Will you have to do that as well?”
He smiled, obviously reading that I could not bear the thought of his losing any hair to a razor. “If I wear a cap, I think it will cover enough.”
I sighed with relief.
We said good-bye, tearfully on my part, for I was not certain that I would ever see these wonderful people again. I wondered if their desire was to spread Christianity in Macao, for I sensed that the Chinese community in which they lived was much in need of the gospel message. Yet they had no tracts and politely refused the ones I offered them, declaring that they might be more needed farther inland.
For my part, I would never forget the kindness they showed Phineas and me, a stranger. It was with much reluctance that I left the red brocade dress, but it would remain a happy memory of my wedding to Phineas.
I also left behind the gray cotton dress, for I saw no need to keep any reminders of the life I had left behind.
Prearranged, a cart arrived for us, taking us back to the harbor at Macao. The Dignity had left, I saw, and I asked Phineas if he thought we might see the ship in Canton.
“I doubt it. And even if we do, no one aboard will recognize us. We look Chinese to them and would easily pass under their eyes with no notice.”
“How will we get to Canton? Is it a long journey?”
“Not particularly. We will travel up the Pearl estuary by way of sampan.”
“What is that?”
Phineas pointed to a small flat-bottomed boat propelled by two short oars. I judged its size against the larger ships I saw in the docks. The East Indiamen and the equally large four-masted Chinese junks overwhelmed the little skiff. “Can we make it so far on that?” I said.
“Many people-entire families-live on sampans,” Phineas said. “It will hold us.”
The journey seemed to symbolize my current life, in which everything was new and exciting. I had foreign clothes and a new hairstyle, had been admonished to act Chinese, and found myself in possession of a husband. I was thrilled to be traveling where no British women were supposed to go. The future seemed endless!
“Where are we going first when we reach Canton?” I asked Phineas.
He glanced at me sideways. “To my mother’s.”
The future suddenly seemed rather unsteady.
The air was hot and sticky, and my cotton clothes clung to my skin. Phineas said that this month, August, was one of the warmest and that in Canton summers were long and the winters short. He warned me that sometimes monsoons occurred-devastating winds and rains.
The sampan belonged to a husband, wife, and two small children, and it reminded me of Phineas’s words when we had visited the poor in Oxford: “Yet even they would be richer than many in China.” I knew now what he meant. The family of four, with another child obviously on its way, lived on the tiny wooden boat with its partial cover, catching to eat and sell what fish they could on the Pearl. The husband’s eyes widened when Phineas dropped extra coins in his hands. “You are going to much trouble to row us up river,” Phineas said. I did not know how much the money was worth, but it must have been a goodly amount.
Besides other small sampans like ours, Chinese junks with sails that looked like folding fans sailed past. Dwarfing them were the foreign ships of commerce, much like the Dignity, belonging not only to England, but according to their flags, the Netherlands, Spain, and Sweden as well. We also saw stern-oared tanka boats. Both sides of the shores were hilly, and here and there I spotted small Chinese buildings. The river smelled of fish, water warmed by the sun, and the promise of commerce miles upriver in Canton.
When we were finally on shore, I was amazed again to hear so many languages. I was even more amazed that so much of it was English. Facing the harbor and the many ships crowding the water was a row of different buildings that various countries rented to conduct their trade. Each country flew its flag outside its building, all of which were enclosed by a wall. Phineas said that the European merchants were not allowed to leave this riverbank area, known as the Thirteen Factories.
“When the emperor allowed foreigner traders, he believed that if he could contain them to this area and within Canton, in the extreme south of China, that no harm would come. The Chinese merchants who deal with the Europeans must be licensed by the government in Peking and pay large fees. The government also profits from the European silver acquired in trade, the Europeans acquire their tea, silk, and porcelain, and all are happy.”
His face darkened. “Until the Europeans started trading opium instead of silver.”
“But the Dignity carried no opium,” I said. “What will they trade?”
“No doubt they met with another East Indiaman in Macao, one that weighed anchor in India first for opium. Wong Si-yan!” he said to me sharply, under his breath. “Put your head down and walk behind me. Do not gawk at anything, for you must appear to be a submissive Chinese wife.”
I raised my head even higher to argue, but his expression indicated that to brook an argument might be at my own peril. I lowered my head and dropped behind him a few paces. We were scarcely noticed in the crowd of people, who had important trade matters to tend to.
One man in British clothes bumped into me then tipped his cap. “So solly, missy,” he said, grinning before he hustled away in the crowd.
Phineas smiled briefly, apparently pleased that our ruse had worked, then continued pushing through the crowd. Outside the walled compound, he approached several men standing beside a sort of bamboo chair attached to two long poles. I could not hear his words, but I believe they haggled over a price. At last he gestured to me and, like a displeased husband, ordered me brusquely into the chair.
I had questions, naturally, but I wisely held my tongue, keeping my head down and my face away from the strange men. I did not want them to look too closely at me, lest they realize I was not Chinese. Fortunately, they seemed more intent on their business, one hoisting Phineas’s trunk onto his shoulders with apparent ease, and the other two lifting the poles of my chair to their shoulders. My stomach lurched, and I found myself up in the air.
I glanced at Phineas, who grinned up at me. “Will you not ride?” I asked quietly, so that no one could hear.
“It would not be seemly,” he said, equally as soft, then walked ahead as though happy to be shed of my company.
Once I accustomed myself to the jostling of the chair, I found it quite exciting and enjoyable. I was a good head taller than my chair bearers, so I could see over everyone we passed. The narrow streets were lined with many small shops, their steep roofs consisting of long tiles with the corners turned curiously up at their ends. Vertical banners hung near the street, proclaiming each shop’s purpose. Vendors also sold wares and food-some with tantalizing smells and others a trifle peculiar to my senses. The streets teemed with people and the varying pitches of their voices as they proceeded with their commerce.
I would have continued to gaze in awe at everything the entire city had to reveal, but Phineas glanced back at me and frowned. I remembered to put my head down, focusing, sadly, on the dirt road instead.
We traveled a short distance, just long enough for me to wonder why I had not been allowed to walk. I was certainly capable! Perhaps it had something to do with class. I knew that there were different levels of society in China, just as in Britain, and I wondered about his mother. I had not thought to ask about her.
We stopped in a merchant area, and the chair bearers let me down rather roughly, to my estimation. I was unharmed, however, and certainly above giving them the satisfaction of knowing they had displeased me. I managed a quick glance at our surroundings before returning my gaze to the road. The buildings were set so close together that it was difficult to see where one shop ended and another began. Vendors and buyers haggled at makeshift tables set up to display wares such as squawking chickens, ducks, earthenware, and shoes.
To my disgust, it seemed that nearly every vendor and buyer managed to spit at least once. I can assure you that I kept a close eye on not only where I stepped but the lovely but serviceable black slippers Precious Spring had given me. The spitters took little notice of their saliva’s destination, often to the peril of many shoes.
Phineas paid the sedan chair men and indicated that the man shouldering the trunk should follow. We headed off the main road, and I wanted to ask Phineas a multitude of questions, but with the stranger present, I could not. I remained the dutiful, unnoticed wife.
At last Phineas stopped outside a thick-walled compound. I could see several buildings past the iron gate, all with heavily tiled roofs and curling corners. Silently he paid the man, who hurried off-in search of another job, no doubt. Phineas glanced around to make sure we were alone. Assured that we were, he took my hand. “This is my mother’s house.”
I trembled. “What will she think of me?”
“She will be delighted that you have gone to such extremes to dress and speak as we do.” He smiled and opened the gate.
“I was concerned more with her thoughts regarding our marriage. You said that she wanted you to marry a Chinese girl.” My feet seemed resistant as we walked on thick stones past a tranquil garden and fountain.
Phineas squeezed my hand. “She will adore you, Isabella. Just as I do.”
“What should I call her? I do not even know her name.”
“Her name is Wong Siu-yin-Little Swallow-but you will call her Nai Nai. It is a term for a mother-in-law.” With a final smile, he pushed through the door.
I believed I knew the answer to my question about her social standing right away. She was neither nobility nor peasant, but somewhere in between. A young girl approached us, and Phineas greeted her as a servant. “Please tell my mother that we are here,” he concluded.
The girl cast a suspicious glance in my direction, then headed into the interior of the home. I glanced around at the home with its gracious display of intricately carved chairs, tables, cabinets, and curiously colored vases. Two pots of peonies sat on three-legged stands. “Your mother does not want, does she?” I murmured.
Phineas seemed about to respond, but his gaze was drawn up the hall. A short lady with an elaborate hairstyle hobbled her way toward us, her green silk dress flowing. I could not divulge her age by her face, but her mouth set hard as though she had once been pretty and now resented advancing age. “Wong Yu-Chung,” she said softly, smiling at Phineas.
I smiled as well, for I had not known his Chinese name. Its literal meaning was “To Take on the World Vigorously,” and its implied meaning was “Success in Life.”
“Leong Tsan.” Phineas addressed his mother, placing his left hand over his right fist and bowed, as he had done when he presented the sword to me. His mother nodded in return.
No embrace? No welcoming kiss? Despite my curiosity at their peculiarly reserved exchange, I stood to the side grinning, I am certain, like an escaped inmate from Bedlam.
“I can’t believe you have returned from that wicked, wicked country,” she said. “I had nearly given up hope.” Her gaze turned to me, and her expression altered like a storm cloud passing across the sun. “Who is this?”
Phineas drew me to his side. “This is my wife, Mother. Her name is Isabella. Her Chinese name, which I have given her, is Wong Si-yan.”
I curtsied. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Nai Nai,” I said. “I-”
She peered at me closely. “She is not Chinese! Why have you given her our family name, Ah Chung?” She referred to Phineas by the diminutive of his full name.
“She has chosen to identify with us. In England it is the custom for a husband’s family name to pass to his bride.”
Nai Nai sneered. “Your bride should have been picked by the matchmaker to make sure you would have luck together.”
“Yes, Mother. She would have studied our birth years, days, and hours to see if we matched.”
“You probably did not even consult the book that would decide whether it was a lucky day,” she accused.
“We married only yesterday,” I said, hoping to help. Surely the day before Phineas’s return must be lucky indeed!
She narrowed her eyes, making no mention of the fact that I had spoken in Chinese. “Yesterday? It was particularly unlucky.”
“Isabella and I do not believe in superstition,” Phineas said. “You know that I am a Christian. Isabella is one too. In fact, she came all this way to-”
“That is your father’s doing. And his family. They do not care that they have ruined my family.”
“That was a long time ago,” Phineas said softly. “Can you not be pleased that I am home again?”
She glanced at me then nodded at him, acknowledging that she would end the discussion. She led him into the house, and I followed in resignation, an obedient wife in borrowed Chinese clothing.
For the rest of the day, Phineas’s mother spoke to me only when absolutely necessary. If I tried to insinuate myself physically closer to them or even into the conversation, she closed up tighter than an oyster. Phineas regaled her with stories of how diligently I had worked at learning Cantonese, how we had had-inasmuch as it was possible for our beliefs-a traditional Chinese wedding. Phineas introduced me to his younger sister, Wong Yu-fai, which means “Splendor of the World.” I, however, would address her as Phineas did-Ku Tzi, which means “Little Sister.” About the age of young Mr. Calow, she was all politeness itself, but underneath, I was certain, lurked a warmhearted girl. She nodded at me, dignified, but her eyes shone. Though she struggled as a young lady for proper behavior, the hint of a smile curved her lips.
Phineas’s mother, on the other hand, sat as silent as a stone lion sculpture. Rather than displaying the power of mighty paws, however, she seemed to keep her claws carefully retracted for just the right moment until she could capture and shred her prey. The thought made me most uneasy…
Precious Spring had told me that marriages in China were not just the union of a man and woman, but the union of two families and fortunes. I could well understand that concept, for in truth many marriages in England were the same. A woman must marry a man who would improve her social standing and provide a good income, while a man must marry a woman with a generous dowry or, at the least, with a social standing that would not detract from his own.
The idea that Phineas’s mother had envisioned an arranged marriage did not surprise me, but I had hoped that she would resign herself to the notion that her son had chosen otherwise. Apparently she would need some persuasion for this to occur, as her behavior the first day did not bode well for my future in Phineas’s family. I consoled myself with the thought that we would no doubt soon leave her home and head inland. There were, after all, a multitude of souls to save, and I was anxious to be about my Father’s business!