"I don't understand?"' "Subject to argument. If there was an argument between French and British lawyers, British law would prevail. The reality of him being a minor, both of you in fact though in this he's the important one, sorry, and his disobedience of the written dictates of his legal guardian means that the marriage ceremony will probably be challenged."
"Where? Here? By whom?"' "By Tess Struan. Who else?"' he said mockingly.
"Malcolm's death is meaningless to you, isn't it?"' "On the contrary, it has complicated my life immeasurably, Madame," he added, the first time using the title. "It is a serious complication for both of us."
She had chosen to sit behind Malcolm's desk, in Malcolm's office, for her future was at stake and she had to have a hundred percent of this man's cunning, and then more. In her suite, she would be less confident, though ordinarily at her best in her boudoir. Is that why men have offices, and women are limited to the chaise and the femininity of a semi-bedroom? "How can this be made uncomplicated, Andr`e?"' "The first complication you've already uncomplicated."
When she had fled in misery to the Legation he had intercepted her almost dragged her into his office, cursing her once the door was closed, shaking her angrily, saying, You stupid bitch, are you mad? Get back to his house and stay there and don't move, you can't hide here or you'll ruin yourself! Go back there, you fool, we'll talk later and for God's sake don't sign anything, don't agree to anything, go on, get out!
"You were quite right, Andr`e," she said, not resenting his venom, or violence, understanding clearly. "Thank you for telling it to me so it got through to me, got through my anguish. That was the first. Next?"' The lines in his forehead deepened. This was a new Angelique, an unknown quantity, unexpected. He had seen such a change twice before in men, never a woman. Both had been enemy spies released after extreme torture. The doctors had no explanation other than to say, the men no longer feared, or feared more torture, or feared dying. They had been dragged to the brink and had survived, and were now convinced, beyond doubt, they would survive again whatever was done to them, or they would die and that no longer mattered. The doctors had said that death itself wouldn't matter until the day, weeks or months or years ahead when the terror raised its vile head again as it was bound to do.
Poor Angelique sitting there so confident, so grand. There'll come a day when it will all spill out, will tear you asunder. Will you conquer it or end up in the madhouse?
For himself he would have bet that so many calamities would prove too much for such a young girl: the flight of her father, theft of her dowry, rape and pregnancy, the shooting of the rapist, and now this new and ghastly death that he and all the Settlement knew in its most graphic details. He and Seratard had expected her mind to be turned, at least for months, still expected it to happen, neither believing Hoag whom they had cross-questioned closely.
If Hoag can work this miracle, he thought angrily, why can't doctors cure the God-cursed English disease? It's not fair.
"Life isn't fair, is it?"' "No," she said. "Not fair at all."
"Did he leave a will, naming you his heir?"' "I don't know. Malcolm never mentioned one."
"Angelique, in future refer to him as your husband, and yourself his widow."
"Why?"' "To establish, to help establish your claim to his estate." He saw her nod to herself, awed at her control. Is it an Act of God that she can appear so tranquil?
"If there's no will, does that make a difference?"' "We're trying to find out. It would be best if there was one that named you. That would be best. Next, you must go back with... with his remains to Hong Kong.
Be prepared for his mother to be hostile--in public try to be her friend. You should be at the funeral, dressed correctly of course." Then he added, "Possibly Henri could give you a letter to our Ambassador, you've already met him?"' "Yes. Monsieur de Geroire. Henri "could"? What sort of letter could he write for me?"' "If Henri could be persuaded, with his strong recommendation you could be put under de Geroire's protection as ward of the State. It's my conviction you're legally the widow of the late tai-pan, Malcolm Struan. If Henri supported us strongly, this could possibly become State policy."
"Then I need serious protection?"' "I am sure of it. Henri isn't."
She sighed. This was what she had concluded too.
But State policy? This was a new idea, a possibility she had not thought of. State policy would mean the protection of France. Anything was worth that--no, not anything. "What could I possibly do to persuade Henri?"' "I could do that for you," he said. "I'd try."
"Then please start at once. This evening tell me what I can do in return. Would before dinner be suitable, or tomorrow morning--just as you wish."
There had been no need to say more. Tomorrow would be better, Andr`e had told her, and had left, and before her next guest, Skye had arrived she lay back in the chair and smiled at the ceiling, wondering about the price.
Ward of the French State? She had liked the sound of that for she knew she would need all the help she could have to combat the ogre of Hong Kong...
And now, curled up in Malcolm's other chair in the tai-pan's suite upstairs, the door bolted on the inside, she liked the idea even more and, again, wondered about the price. It will be expensive. The secret gold coins will be enough to begin with, then the ruby ring and now I have a chop, Malcolm's chop.
She replaced everything and shut the secret compartment.
Content with the headway made on the first day of her new life, she closed her eyes and slept dreamlessly until a knock on the door brought her back. It was almost four-thirty. "Who is it, please?"
"Jamie, Angelique."
A current of expectation went through her. Be calm, she cautioned herself as she unbolted the door, the ice you traverse is exceedingly thin and the waters below lethal. "Hello, Jamie, dear, please come in." Again she sat in her husband's chair, motioning him to the chair she had always used. The change pleased her. "You look so harassed, so sad."
"I still can't get used to the idea and, well, all the changes, Angelique."
"No. It's very hard."
"You've changed too. May I, may I say how marvelous you are being, so strong and, well, you know."
"That's the problem, dear Jamie, I don't know. I only know what has happened and can accept it, have accepted it. My tears... I think I must have cried all the tears of my life away. So, for the moment no tears. You saw Sir William?"
"Yes. Skye said he would come back around six, if that's convenient." He saw her nod absently.
"You don't like him, Jamie, do you?"
"Don't like any lawyers, they always mean trouble though he's not a bad man. I think he'll be all right for you. If you get worried, tell me at once. Mal... Malcolm liked him and you should have someone to represent you."
"I find it hard to say his name too, Jamie, "Husband" is equally hard. Harder. Don't be embarrassed."
Jamie nodded bleakly and took out the letters.
"Sir William said these were part of his estate, like the money. He could not rule on the legalities --he would write posthaste to the Solicitor General in Hong Kong--but he saw no reason why you shouldn't have these if you promise not to destroy them. As to the sovereigns you should keep them--I told him I didn't think you had any money of your own at the moment--but he asks, please, to give him a receipt for them."
"Whatever he wants. Did he read them?"
"No, no one did."
Hesitantly he put them on the mantelpiece. "There are a couple of other things, we've made some arrangements--would you like me to tell you now or... I can easily come back later."
"No, I'm fine. What arrangements, Jamie?"
He took a deep breath, hating to have to say all this but it was his duty. "In consultation with Sir William, Babcott and Hoag, we've arranged to send the body back to Hong Kong tomorrow for burial, we all agreed, we jointly agreed that would be best. Everything possible will be done and is being done to make this easy for you and the trip as tolerable as possible. Dr. Hoag will go with you to make sure you're in good hands."
Jamie's smile was empty and his face a mirror of unhappiness. "Can't tell you how sorry this all makes me. Ah Soh can pack for you in good time, Chen will help if necessary and will pack things to go with the ship, sailing on the evening tide, meanwhile if you need anything, say the word."
He saw her look down at her hands, her fingers twisting Malcolm's signet ring on her marriage finger. Poor Angelique, she doesn't even have a proper wedding ring.
"Well, that's all for the moment--would you like company at dinner tonight?"
"Thank you, but no, I'll eat here, or in the dining room or my rooms but please sit down.
Sorry, that's not all for the moment. My husband is not going to be taken back to Hong Kong for burial but will be buried here. Neither my husband nor I will ever go aboard Prancing Cloud again."
She saw his look but that did not divert her from what she had decided this morning: the confrontation must happen at the very first mention of their arrangements. "Would you like me to tell you the funeral arrangements now, or would you prefer them later?"
"But everything's done," he said, "arrangements are already made. It's best, we all felt it would be best and we... we know it would be the best for you and everyone. Mrs. Struan would certainly approve and would of course want him buried at home in Hong Ko--"
"Mrs. Struan? I'm Mrs. Struan. You refer to the other Mrs. Struan, Tess Struan, the other Mrs. Struan?" She spoke without emotion. "She doesn't have precedence in this matter. I'm his widow and take precedence over his mother."