Jane Orcutt - All the Tea in China

Misfortune prevailed, as I found myself seated next to Mrs. Akers. She immediately dominated the conversation, but thankfully her subject matter did not involve Snowe or me. I tried to feign attentiveness, but she spoke of such trivial matters that I instead contemplated the meal-which I must add was shockingly not up to the standards of yesterday’s dinner. We were served corned beef and tongue, questionable butter, curry (which Captain Malfort claimed was popular with those who had spent time in India), and the biscuits about which Mr. Gilpin had warned me. I regret to report that I took childish delight in the hardness of a biscuit forcing Mrs. Akers to cease all conversation for a moment.

“Why, these are as hard as a sea chest,” she said after extricating the biscuit from between her teeth. She all but spit out the offending morsel. “Captain Malfort, are there none other available?”

“I am afraid this is all we have to offer,” he said, and I could have sworn I saw a twinkle in his eyes. “You are not obliged to partake of breakfast, of course. Many passengers prefer to dip into their own provisions during this time.”

“Nonsense!” Mr. Akers said, quelling his wife with a loving expression. “We are Englishmen, and we will eat what the company has seen fit to provide us.” He gnawed on the biscuit with long, yellow teeth, which put me in mind of a rat. “Quite tasty, my dear. It gives the ol’ incisors quite a go.”

Mrs. Akers smiled lovingly, but while Mr. Akers was occupied, she set her biscuit to the side.

I tried not to smile behind a cup of tea. Mrs. Akers caught my gaze and frowned. I cast about for a topic of conversation to avert further questions about eyes. “Do you look forward to living in China, Mrs. Akers?”

“Goodness, no,” she exclaimed, loudly enough for all to hear. “I understand it to be a dreadful place, full of yellow people who chatter in a strange language. In truth, when Mr. Akers informed me that the company was sending him on this voyage, I contented myself with the notion that at least I would see monkeys for the first time.”

A polite pall settled over the table. “Surely you do not mean the Chinese themselves, do you?” I said quietly.

“But of course!” She laughed, glancing around the table for approval. “I have heard that they do not care for we Englishmen in their country, and I am happy to oblige. I look forward to living in Macao-a Portuguese colony, after all-during the trading season in Canton. Once Mr. Akers’s business is tended to, we shall be on the first boat back to Britain. Were we not newly wed, I would be content to stay home. However, I consider myself a woman of the world and one entirely devoted to her husband and my new situation as his wife. I am sure I shall be as fine a traveler as any Englishwoman who has gone before me and a credit not only to my gender but to my country as well.”

Such a speech might have been met with applause in her imaginary version of Parliament, but our little group sat quite shocked. Snowe, I noticed, sitting beside me, seemed almost livid. He showed no outward displeasure while he calmly buttered a biscuit with some of the dubious butter, but I could tell by the tightness in his jaw that he seethed inwardly.

What bothered me more-that Mrs. Akers believed as she did or that I was learning to read Snowe’s expressions and moods so easily?

“I am certain that the fairer sex will indeed be well represented in the Orient by all ladies present,” Captain Malfort said, smoothing over the silence.

“Hear hear,” Harrison said, holding up his teacup. Mrs. Harrison leaned against his shoulder.

“Miss Goodrich, I have not heard your impression about the Far East.” Mrs. Akers buttered her biscuit and attempted another bite.

“I would prefer to save my opinion until I have actually seen it,” I said, demurring.

“Isabella will disembark in Cape Town,” Snowe said. “Perhaps, Mrs. Akers, you could do likewise.”

She set down her biscuit. “What? I? Did you not hear me, Mr. Snowe? I have a duty in Macao, no matter how odious it may be. How could you disregard me in such a manner?”

“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Akers, but I was thinking of you. Perhaps you and my sister could be companions and travel back to England together.”

Dear friend, I could not help myself. I am not given to violence unless it is of a fencing nature, but I planted my heel smartly but quietly against Snowe’s instep. To his credit, he did not even flinch. I knew, however, that my message had been received from his manner of blinking.

Mrs. Akers waved her hands in protest. “Out of the question, Mr. Snowe. I am certain that Mr. Akers will hear none of it, as well.”

“On the contrary,” Snowe said. “Though he may agree with you now, I suspect that by the time we reach the Cape, he will see the wisdom of my suggestion.”

“You are kindness itself to be concerned with a newly married couple,” Mrs. Akers said. “But I am afraid that we cannot be parted. Why ever are you on this voyage, Miss Goodrich, if you are only to disembark at Cape Town?”

Without so much as a sidelong glance at me, Snowe launched into an explanation of how I was determined to become a missionary, but he, as a loving brother, would not countenance it. Out of deference to me, I suppose, neither the captain nor Snowe mentioned that I had stowed aboard ship. Fortunately, Mrs. Akers was not quick-minded enough to ask why Snowe allowed me aboard in the first place.

When he finished, I marveled at Snowe’s ease in concealing the truth, all around. I did not care for liars, but he seemed to have a certain skill.

“A missionary? Mr. Akers, did you hear that?” Mrs. Akers nudged her husband’s arm, jostling the corned beef from his fork.

“Quite admirable, I must say.” He calmly reclaimed the meat.

“Admirable? Why, I am all astonishment at your lack of propriety,” she said. “For whoever heard of an unmarried lady missionary? In the Far East, no less!”

“Whoever indeed?” Snowe muttered, casting me an exceedingly penetrating sidelong glance.

Later Snowe, Harrison, and Akers met together to discuss East India Company business. It occurred to me that I did not even know what Snowe did for the company, other than to procure tea. How, exactly, did he do this? Did he send men out to pick the leaves? Did he lead an expedition himself? I resolved to ask him later.

I saw Mr. Gilpin on deck and mentioned that I already regretted the lack of books to read. I could not imagine the entire voyage without reading material.

“But I have the very thing,” he said, smiling. “Mama sends me off on each voyage with a fresh armload of books. I have not the heart to inform her that my interest lies in navigation not in novels. I would be delighted to share from my personal library.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gilpin, that would be wonderful. I am interested in any books you have available and certainly novels. I enjoy a good story as well as textbooks.”

“Perhaps a book on navigation then?” he said, his lips curling in a smile.

“Why, yes. Mr. Calow and I discussed latitude and longitude recently, and I’d like to learn more. I confess to only understanding the rudimentaries.”

“Don’t tell me that you are thinking about applying to be a midshipman!”

I smiled at his earnest expression. “Nothing as serious as that. In truth, I would like to learn not only for my own knowledge but for Mr. Calow’s as well. Everyone is so busy that I thought I might be able to tutor him if I had a chance to learn and understand the material.”

For a moment his face looked inexplicably crestfallen. “You are well educated then?”

“I grew up at Oxford. My uncle is a dean, and I was tutored by others at the university.”