Jane Orcutt - All the Tea in China

“Have you a peculiar desire to see the chickens on the poop deck?” she said, smiling. “Or do you hope to avoid Mr. Gilpin?”

“Both, if you must know.”

We climbed up to the poop deck. Mr. Swinney, the poulterer, was nowhere to be seen. The number of chickens and ducks had diminished since we set sail from England, and I thought somewhat guiltily of our past dinners.

Miss Whipple sat near an empty cage and studied the wake behind the ship. After a moment, she spoke. “I have thought about your offer to teach me, Miss Goodrich.”

I tried to conceal the smile from my face. “Indeed?”

She nodded. “If it would help you, I am willing to learn what you have to teach.”

“Is there anything in particular you wish to study?”

“I can read well enough, but I know little of history. I know little of Napoleon, for all the talk I hear of him.”

I sat beside her. “Is it the French who interest you?”

“To begin with. I would learn the history of England, of course. And the… what do you call them… ancient civilizations?”

“Mr. Gilpin loaned me some books on that very subject. We could start with those.”

Miss Whipple was silent for a moment. “I imagine you wonder how I came to be the type of person that I am.”

“It is not for my speculation, Miss Whipple,” I said, lowering my gaze.

“I did not choose my life. I made a foolish mistake in trusting a man to lead me from Portsmouth to London, but he abandoned me.” She paused. “I could not go home after that for fear of completely ruining my family.”

I touched her hand, moved by her plight. “I am sorry.”

She smiled bitterly. “Perhaps my story will have spared you from following after a man foolishly, though I think not. I believe that Phineas is not quite the same as the man who misled you originally, but he has misled you all the same.”

“Yes, he has. But I do not plan to stay with him once we reach China. I intend to find an established mission or someplace where I can serve, but I certainly will not travel with him.” I brightened. “Will you not go with me, Miss Whipple? I am certain that two ladies can help as well as one.”

“I am afraid that I am only suited for a life with men. That is why Phineas confided his plan to me, even though we never-” She looked away, coughing into her hand. “I would still like for you to teach me, if you are willing. But perhaps you do not want to be seen with me. Gilpin-”

“Mr. Gilpin is not master of my soul,” I said. “I would be delighted to teach you, but please… you must call me Isabella.”

She looked at me fully for the first time since we had sat down. She smiled. “Only if you will call me Julia.”

Mr. Calow solemnly informed me one morning that ships approaching the Cape of Good Hope were often besieged by violent winds. I could not imagine going through another storm. Indeed, he must have thought my expression particularly alarmed, for he hastened to add that hardly ever were the ships wrecked, though he repeated “hardly ever” as though reassuring himself as well. Fortunately for us all, we encountered no problems and soon sailed into Cape Town, docking at Table Bay.

I knew a little of the town, of course, but nothing prepared me for the joy I would feel at the sight of land again after so many days at sea. Particularly land as beautiful as this historic town. Phineas and I stood together on deck to watch as we docked, and I could scarcely say a word.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” I murmured, glancing at the crystalline beach and a large mountain in the distance towering overhead.

“That is Table Mountain,” Phineas said. “It appears clear today, but at times the top is shrouded in mist and fog.”

I fanned myself with my hand. “I cannot believe that we have traveled so far and to find the weather so changed. I have read that the climate is different below the equator but never dreamed I would experience it for myself.” I turned my attention from the scene and smiled. “But you must find me silly, for you have traveled this course many times.”

He smiled down at me. “I have not seen the journey through your eyes. I find the view most enjoyable.”

I caught my breath in hesitation. His dark eyes seemed to shine, and I thought that I had never seen him look so attractive. The outdated queue he wore now seemed quite familiar and… handsome.

I turned away, forcing myself to watch the seamen perform the laborious tasks of docking the ship. I did not quite know what to expect when we were ashore, but Cape Town seemed modern. I had pictured grass huts, perhaps, and natives running about in who knew what manner of dress (or undress!), but many solid buildings, some appearing British and some Dutch, comprised the city. The British buildings were easily recognizable, reminding me of home with their brick, pitched roofs, and sash windows. The Dutch buildings, on the other hand, had thatched roofs and high gables and were whitewashed with lime. The combination of the two styles was not displeasing, however, and seemed a reflection of the various peoples we encountered.

Phineas acted as a guide as we strolled around town, taking in the sights while he supplemented my knowledge of the area. He purchased bananas for us to eat, a strange yellow fruit. Laughing as I attempted to bite into it, he took it from my hands and showed me how to peel back its skin. The true fruit within was delightfully firm but easily chewed, the taste warm and golden.

We saw many people of all skin colors because so many different people had inhabited the area. The Dutch influence was prevalent because the town had been established by the Dutch East India Company, whose sailors used it-as we were now-to acquire provisions and, if necessary, mend their ships. They traded with the local native villagers, then sent Dutch colonists of their own several centuries ago to establish a town. Soon afterward they were joined by Huguenots, Protestants who fled France during an un-successful Reformation. Sadly, too, the area had known its share of slaves, not only those who labored there but those who were but mere cargo bound for other destinations.

Over the centuries, the town had been in the hands of the Dutch, the French, the British… in various order. Fortunately it had been controlled by Britain for the past few years, and though the town and its people bore signs of many cultural influences, it felt somewhat like home.

It was also good to be on land again. It occurred to me that I might actually have a real bed to sleep in tonight, as opposed to a hammock. “Where will we pass the night?” I asked Phineas.

He looked down at me again with his unfathomable brown eyes. “I know a husband and wife who accept lodgers.”

A peculiar thrill tingled my stomach. We had been cabinmates for so long that I scarcely thought about it anymore. Particularly when everyone on board ship thought us related. Being on land reminded me that we were back in civilization. “We will…” My mouth went dry. “We will no doubt need to keep up the ruse about brother and sister.”

“It is preferable,” he said. “Were we to run into anyone from the Dignity, it might not bode well otherwise.”

We would be in Cape Town for several days, but the remainder of that first day was spoiled for me. I worried about Snowe’s intentions. I worried about my own, as well, for I did not trust the curious attraction I felt toward him. I would never betray my place as a lady, of course…

My fears were put to rest when we arrived at the lodgings, a home that could have been plucked from one of the finer sections of London. A lovely elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Eaton, were our hosts. They were British and had evidently known Phineas for a long time. “But you never mentioned a sister,” Mr. Eaton said, smiling at me.