Jane Orcutt - All the Tea in China

I nodded.

“Then you are also aware that it is populated primarily by sailors.”

I clasped my hands. “You have only managed to state the obvious, Mr. Snowe. I assure you that I can handle much more information and certainly in a more timely fashion. I fear that we may be in China soon at the rate you are explaining yourself.”

He raised a brow over one dark brown eye. Where had the spectacles gone to? “You prize directness, do you?”

“Yes, and I-”

He took a step closer. “Then let me be perfectly frank. I will have you put off this ship at the first available opportunity. Until that time, the sailors will be eyeing any unattached female, some with courtesy but some with less than Christian thoughts. Perhaps backed by less than Christian deeds, as well.”

I thought of the sailor I had met when I boarded and nodded.

“I have explained your presence as my sister so that I may see to your safety. They will respect you if they believe us related.”

“And what of Miss Whipple? Will they respect her too?”

His eyes leveled with mine. “Julia Whipple does not seek their respect. Only their coins. At least once we reach China.”

“I do not understand.”

“Julia is going to China for one reason only.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “She hopes to set up trade with the Englishmen working in Macao.”

“Then she is quite enterprising. A tradeswoman! Such a thing is practically unheard of in England. Is it easier in China for a woman to do so?”

“No easier than in England. She is involved in the trade at which women naturally excel.”

Understanding dawned in a rush. “Oh!” I felt my face warm. “I… I understand now. But you… surely you do not approve? Why do you sponsor her?”

He paced a few steps, hands still behind his back. “She cannot have a good life in London as she was not born into society. I hoped that a change of continents might precipitate good fortune for her. Women, decent or otherwise, are in short supply in China, and who knows but that one of East India’s finest might seek her hand. In the meantime, she helped me in my endeavor, and I with hers. It was a suitable arrangement.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “But nothing more?”

He ceased pacing, standing directly in my line of sight. “It is you, Miss Goodrich, who is ensconced in my cabin. Not Julia Whipple.”

I did not quite know what to make of such a statement. Before I could respond, however, he turned away. “I will see that you receive some fresh clothing. Perhaps one of the other women on board can loan you a frock.”

“If there are other women on board, perhaps I should lodge with them rather than continue to be your cross to bear,” I said.

“They are all married women, traveling with their husbands. I do not think they would find your presence acceptable in their cabins.”

“No, of course not. And yet you find it acceptable for me to be in yours?”

He sighed. “Miss Goodrich, I feel responsible for your safety and well-being until such time as you can be restored to your uncle. Is it so difficult to believe that I can act as a gentleman?”

“Would a gentleman keep an unmarried woman in his room?” I countered.

“Perhaps you would rather return to your accommodations with the cattle,” he suggested, “and whoever might choose to join you in the straw. I made a quick decision to claim you as my sister… for your protection only. Fortunately, the prevarication was believed, and no one will be the wiser if you act the part. As for me, I assure you that my intentions toward you are nothing but honorable.”

Without waiting for my response, he left the cabin, and I was left to wonder at all that had transpired. He had said that he would have me put off the ship as soon as possible. That could not happen, as I still held to my original belief that I was meant to be in China. Besides, Miss Whipple needed me. Despite the fact that she was a Cyprian, I sensed a goodness in her soul that wanted validation. I had seen her work with the poor; it was no mere pretense. She had been as genuinely concerned for their welfare as Mr. Snowe had been. It had been the generosity of those two that helped me see my future. Perhaps if I stayed close to Miss Whipple during the voyage, we could become friends. After all, I seemed to have left certain social norms behind in Oxford.

I saw the logic in Mr. Snowe’s claiming me as his sister, but I did not think much about it that first day I regained consciousness. I tried mostly to regain my strength, dutifully eating the broth that either Mr. Snowe or Miss Whipple brought me. Indeed, though we spoke of mere triflings during her ministrations, she and I shared each other’s company rather well. I did not know if Mr. Snowe told her that I was aware of her situation, but after an initial wariness, she seemed to realize that I had no intention of chastising her. She smiled at me as before, and like Mr. Snowe, promised to find me some suitable clothes.

“You seem healthy to a fault. You’ll be out of that hammock and strolling about the deck in no time,” she said, handing me a bowl of broth. I had regained enough strength to spoon-feed myself. I tried not to gobble greedily, but I was famished. She pulled the wooden crate close to my hammock so that she might sit while I gorged myself like royalty… that is to say, ate.

“What is it like on deck?” I asked between swallows. “I have never been aboard a ship before.”

“There is a variety of activity with the sailors. They are perpetually tasked with myriad activities for the betterment of the ship. They move cargo about, scurry above and below deck, raise the sails…” She put her hands around her knees, smiling. “I enjoy watching them climb the rigging, for it’s a feat of daring I can only imagine. I get dizzy watching them so high aloft. They climb as high as the tallest sail sometimes. The captain said we caught a very good wind, so we are on our course, I suppose. I understand that with fair weather, the voyage should last only five months.”

“I should like to know the stops we are intended to make,” I said, thinking of Snowe’s vow to put me ashore. “I can’t say that I know of them, except for Cape Town, of course.”

I stopped with the spoon halfway to my mouth. “Cape Town,” I whispered. “It sounds so exotic.”

“I have heard of it but do not know where it is.”

“Why, everyone knows that it is at the southernmost tip of Africa on the Cape of Good Hope,” I said, then blushed with shame. Miss Whipple probably had not been given the education I had received. “I am sorry for speaking so knowingly. Mr. Snowe has called me a bluestocking, and I suppose he is right.”

She leaned back, smiling. “I have heard of Cape Town for many years, but no one bothered to tell me its location. It has always sounded a bit exotic. What do you know of it?”

“Only what I have read. It has been in existence for some two hundred years. It is a business town where ships stock up on provisions. There is also lodging, I believe, and families who live there year round. It is located between two oceans, the Atlantic and the Indian. Oh, and some call it the Tavern of Two Seas because there is apparently no lack of strong liquor.”

“Really?” Miss Whipple seemed amused by my last statement, her eyes taking on a calculated expression that worried me.

“I hope that you will tour the town with me,” I said hastily. “As we seem to be the only two unmarried women aboard ship, I would enjoy your company.”

She stared at me, and I felt that my impulsiveness had gotten the better of my speech. I should not have forced her to give me a cut. “Forgive me, Miss Whipple,” I said. “I did not mean to presume an acquaintance that you may not desire.”