Jane Orcutt - All the Tea in China

Mrs. Harrison leaned against her husband’s shoulder the entire time, but I believe I saw her eyes flutter open briefly during the blessing of the ring.

The crew had been given shore leave, so only the captain and the most major officers were in attendance. Mr. Calow looked much older than his young years, dressed in his best uniform. I hated that I would not be granted a chance to say a proper farewell, and I hoped that he would remember me kindly.

After the ceremony, I kissed Julia Whipple-nay, Julia Gilpin!-on the cheek. I longed to bid her a proper farewell but settled for the deepest sentiment of my heart. “I am pleased for you both,” I said. “May God grant you every happiness.”

Love may not have been a companion to this marriage, but something certainly shone in her eyes as she glanced at her new husband. “I am certain that we will be most happy indeed.”

For his part, Thomas Gilpin returned her gaze with a blush and accepted my best wishes as well. I caught no hint that he had perhaps wanted to place a ring on my finger, as Mrs. Akers had once asserted, for he seemed, if not overjoyed with his new bride, quite content. I prayed that his dear mama would accept her new daughter with graciousness and perhaps a bit of obliviousness as well.

Phineas, who had sat beside me throughout the ceremony then drifted away afterward, beckoned me from across the deck. His trunk had already been removed from the ship, ostensibly for him to prepare for his journey inland. I had also laid a farewell note on my hammock, explaining that I had left with Phineas and not to worry for my safety.

Now it was time for us to disembark forever and perhaps, I felt in my heart, to leave England behind as well. Who knew if I would ever return to my homeland or to Uncle Toby and Flora?

I glanced at the shipmates with whom I had spent significant time for the past few months, and a lump settled in my throat. I could not bear the thought of never seeing or speaking with them again. Yet press on I must, for the higher prize.

And so Phineas and I slipped down the tulle-covered gangplank, unnoticed in the revelry, and embarked on yet another journey, one with no apparent return.

He took my hand and led me on foot along dusty roads to a waiting wagon and driver. Phineas helped me into the wagon then spoke a few words in Chinese to the driver in such a low tone that I could not comprehend his message. His trunk, I noticed, was stored in the back.

Clouds covered the night sky, and I could not see the stars. For some reason, this troubled me, and I shivered. Phineas put his arm around me, and I stiffened momentarily at the unexpected contact. “Are you warm enough?” he said, as if to soothe my fears.

His lips brushed my hair, and I shivered again. “Yes,” I said in a small voice, then cleared my throat. “Where are we going?”

He glanced at the driver, then put his fingers to his lips so that only I could see. I nodded my understanding.

Phineas and I rode into the night, forever it seemed. I grew weary and rested my head against his shoulder. Oddly, I felt safe and secure, as satisfied as a child who had just been allowed a cup of warm chocolate. However, I refused to allow myself to become accustomed to this sensation as we had no future together. None at all.

“Isabella,” Phineas whispered in my ear.

I startled awake, bolting upright. “Yes?”

“We are here.”

The driver had already descended from the wagon to haul Phineas’s trunk outside what appeared to be a bamboo house. It certainly did not appear British or Portuguese in its architecture, as the buildings I had seen since we had landed in Macao.

“Where are we?”

“We are outside the walled city,” he said. He dropped a few coins into the driver’s hands, expressed his thanks, then rapped on the door. It swung open, and a Chinese man about the same age as Phineas bid us enter. He wore a long black queue and had his forehead shaved, a fashion I had seen many Chinese men sport in Macao.

Phineas led me inside. Once the door was closed, he gestured toward the man. “Isabella, this is Choi Sing-yiu, my good friend. Choi Sing-yiu, this is my bride, Isabella Goodrich.”

Choi Sing-yiu means “To Gain Glory,” but as he was a Christian, its implied meaning is “To Gain Glory for God.” He bowed, then said in good English, “I am pleased to meet you.”

A woman appeared from a back room, a baby on her hip. Glory ushered her forward, and she approached, smiling. Introductions were again made, and I learned that this was Glory’s wife, Lui Chun-bo, which means “Precious Spring.”

“Glory and Precious Spring are Christians,” Phineas said. “Glory is, in fact, an ordained clergyman.”

I blinked. Was this one of Phineas’s deceptions?

Glory laughed. “I see by your expression that you do not believe him. But it is true. I studied in England. Phineas and I met in London.”

“Like me, Glory has a British father,” Phineas said. “He could have stayed in England, but he wanted to return here. He feels that his people need him. There are several Chinese Christians near this area.”

“Phineas has promised to take you to them, yes?” Glory said.

“He has never said anything specific,” I said, feeling confused. “I thought perhaps he was bringing me to you to help with missionary work.”

Glory and Phineas exchanged a glance. Precious Spring appeared to try to follow the conversation, but it was apparent that she spoke little, if any, English. She did smile at me, however, which put me at ease. And her baby was adorable! Much better looking, I am ashamed to say, than my nephew Lewis with his pinched, demanding face. This baby actually smiled at me, which was something that Lewis certainly never did in the entire year that I knew him.

“Is your child a boy or a girl?” I asked in Cantonese.

Precious Spring looked startled. “You speak our language?”

I nodded. “It was a five-month journey. Phineas was a thorough teacher.”

Her smile broadened. “This is my son, Choi Ka-wai.” A beautiful name that means “Honor of the Family.”

Phineas took my hand. “Our time is short, Isabella. We have come here to be married, not to visit. We do not want to bring trouble to Glory and Precious Spring by your presence.”

“Forgive me,” Glory said, “but you are a foreign woman. Outside the city walls, you will be noticed. Our plan is to dress you in Chinese style so that you and Phineas can travel together to Canton. Your hair is dark enough so that with the proper attire and your ability to speak the language, you can pass farther inland.”

“But I thought I was to help you.”

“Precious Spring and I live here,” Glory said gently. “Phineas himself can take you farther inland.”

I glanced at him, and he nodded. “We can speak of this later, Isabella, but we must be wed and leave early tomorrow.”

I looked at Glory. “So you will marry us? You are, indeed, a real clergyman?”

“I am.” He smiled.

“Precious Spring has your wedding dress,” Phineas said. “If you will make yourself ready, we can begin the ceremony.”

Glory said something to Precious Spring, who took my hand. “Come with me,” she said, smiling.

I glanced back at Phineas, who gestured me to go with her. No turning back, indeed!

“You are taller than me, but I believe this will fit.”

I stared with awe at the beautiful skirt and tunic Precious Spring held up for my approval. The red silk could scarce be more opposite from Julia Whipple’s modest white frock. The silk was interwoven with gold brocade designs of dragons and phoenixes, something a lady in Britain would never imagine herself wearing, of course! The high collar was unlike anything I had ever seen in fashion.