Jane Orcutt - All the Tea in China

Snowe seemed surprised that I learned so well, but at last he agreed to teach me spoken words. I did not want to resort to writing or reading characters when we reached China (and I was going there!), no matter how easily it could be understood in many regions. He taught me that Chinese was a tonal language, unlike English. Each word had a particular pitch, and using the wrong one could change the meaning from one word to something completely different.

He taught me by day, and at night he continued the story of Mei and Wo-Ping. An evil landowner threatened much of the village, and the warriors put aside their differences in preparation to defend Hu-King. I sensed an undercurrent of distrust between the warriors and still believed that one day they would fight, but though I had initially sided with Mei in all things, I now harbored great sympathy for Wo-Ping as well. He had been the first to see the true goodness in her heart, but he waited patiently for her to reveal it.

The story so overwhelmed me that during the day I often remembered two things and at night forgot to ask: how much time had Phineas spent in China that he was able to spin folktales, and why had he not yet procured a sword for me?

I would like to say that I became better acquainted with my fellow travelers, but I did not have much use for their company beyond what was required at mealtimes. Mrs. Akers continued to dominate all conversation, though thankfully she had moved on to other subjects beyond the lack of physical similarities between Phineas and myself. Mr. Akers kept busy with company matters, as did Mr. Harrison, who apparently had taken the younger man under his wing. Personally, I believe Mr. Akers merely threw himself into work to avoid the bride that he by now may have regretted taking.

We saw little of Mrs. Harrison, who seemed to be either sleeping or in a constant stupor. I began to believe that she had a physical ailment of some sort that prevented her from staying awake long, until I noticed that Dr. Mortimer gave her a tiny bottle almost daily. When I asked Phineas about it, he sighed. “It is laudanum, Isabella.”

“From what does she suffer?” I said, alarmed.

“Malaise of life, I believe. I have my suspicions that Harrison chose China as a means of either ending his wife’s life or giving her reason to fully recover. She has used the drug for a long time now, I have heard it whispered.”

I did not have to ask who had done the whispering. Though he was more careful to spend most of the day with me, he still passed time with Julia Whipple. I had it in mind to speak directly with her, for I still felt it my duty to encourage her to seek a better life for herself once in China. I had heard that many of our fairer sex had to resort to desperate measures to survive, but I knew that there must be another situation for her.

Then one day I received an answer that I could only attribute to the Divine. While I had enjoyed the books Mr. Gilpin shared, I had not thought to use them for any other purpose save my own education and entertainment. But it occurred to me that perhaps I could loan them to Miss Whipple. Education, Uncle Toby had always said, was the key to unlock the doors of ignorance and poverty. While I would not deem her ignorant, for I thought her quite intelligent, actually, Miss Whipple could perhaps find a new life for herself as a governess if she but had the learning.

I found her one afternoon after dinner, lingering in the cuddy. Oblivious to the crew removing the dinnerware and leftover food, she stared at the wall as though a window would present itself. “Miss Whipple,” I said.

She turned, and for one moment I saw great sadness in her eyes. Then something shuttered her vulnerability, and she smiled at me. “Miss Goodrich. Are you looking for Phineas?”

“Not at all. It is your company I sought.”

“Have you and Phineas abandoned your lessons?”

“Only for a while. I find the Chinese words all run together if we spend too much time on them. I thought perhaps that different lessons might be in order.”

Her smile turned sardonic. “And what is it you would learn from me?”

“Quite the opposite. I thought perhaps you might be interested in learning with me.”

She laughed. “I have no use for Chinese, Miss Goodrich. The king’s English will do for my needs.”

I took a chair beside her. “Miss Whipple, may I be blunt?”

“Please do.”

She stared at me so coldly that I felt compelled to look away for a moment, then resolve steadied my nerves. “Have you had much education?”

“It depends on the sort of education you mean.”

I felt a blush creep around my neck. “Academic, of course. The truth is, Miss Whipple, that I have had the benefit of a good education. Some would say too much so, but that is neither here nor there. At any rate, I have no idea what purpose I will find in China, but perhaps it will be as a teacher. I have no experience as such, and I thought it might help me to practice, so to speak, with someone.”

“And you see me as that candidate?”

I nodded.

“Why?” She folded her arms.

I blew out a long breath. “You have admitted your purpose for moving to China. I propose to change that purpose. With a bit of learning…”

“Miss Goodrich.” She started to rise, apparently thought better of it, and sat down. “I have more learning than you will ever know. I believe you’re a kind soul, but either you’re too naïve to see life as it is or you choose to ignore its harshness. Either way, I feel sorry for you.”

I blinked. “You feel pity for me?”

“You think it’s the other way around, don’t you? You feel pity for me and think I have no voice in my future.”

“I have often thought that one’s past did determine the future, yes, but pity? I feel more… sadness. I want better for you.”

Miss Whipple leaned forward. “You’re a fool, Isabella Goodrich,” she said in a low voice. “You are being played for one, and yet you worry about my life. I should be the one to worry about you.”

“I… don’t understand.” Her words confused me.

“You know that Phineas spends time with me. What do you suppose we do?”

My mouth went dry. “I…”

“We talk,” she said. “Yes, that’s all we do. Talk. But I have heard quite an earful since I met Phineas Snowe.”

Tears stung my eyes. Afraid to hear more, I rose. “I do not think-”

She touched my wrist. “Sit down, Miss Goodrich. I’m telling you this because I admire you. Truly I do. You should know the truth.”

I sat, believing her words to be for my own good. “I am all attention. What should I know?”

“Phineas Snowe will never let you go to China. He will have you put off at Cape Town.”

I breathed a sigh. “I know that is what he says, but I believe he will change his mind.”

“Do you know why he cannot have you travel to Canton?”

I shook my head.

“He is not who he claims to be. He has worked for the East India Company for the last few years, it is true, but the purpose of his voyage is not to procure tea. Not for the company anyway.”

“Then what is it for?”

“He wants to find a special tea in China. Something that he believes will put the East India Company out of business. That is his life’s purpose. Everything he has done in the past few years has been to that end.”

“But why?”

“I’ll leave that much for you to ask him. Know only that he has deceived you from the moment he met you and has not ceased. He plans to leave you in Cape Town no matter how impressed he is with your learning his native language.”

“Chinese? That is his native tongue?”

She smiled. “Have you not noticed the structure of his face? His eyes? He wore spectacles at the party where he met you, did he not?”