Fragrant Flower Page 10

  Because she felt perturbed and so upset after what her uncle had said, she could not settle down to sew after Lady Osmund and the twins left in an open carriage for Government House.

  The Governor was giving a garden party and all the most fashionable people in Hong Kong were to be present.

  The party set off without saying goodbye to her and she stood a little forlornly in the hall, conscious that the Aides-de-Camp who accompanied Lady Osmund had glanced at her in a somewhat embarrassed manner.

  They had learnt by this time her position in the household, and that even the smallest efforts on their part to be polite to her were frowned upon both by the General and his wife.

  Azalea walked upstairs to her bedroom to stand, for a moment looking out over the trees towards the blue water in the Bay and beyond it to Kowloon.

  The sunshine seemed to glitter like gold, and yet there was a darkness within herself which overshadowed the joy of being warm again.

  It was then she made up her mind. She had promised Mrs. Chang she would go to visit her, and this was her opportunity not only to see someone she thought of as a friend, but also to have a lesson in Chinese.

  “Come any time!” Mrs. Chang had said. “You always welcome in my husband’s house.”

  Bravely, because she knew that if it was discovered her aunt would be furious, Azalea put on her hat and, taking a small lace-trimmed sunshade which had once belonged to one of the twins, she went downstairs and asked for a rickshaw.

  A servant summoned one to the door and she got into it feeling it was an adventure to be pulled swiftly down the drive of Flagstaff House and out into the road.

  The rickshaw boy had bare feet and his clothes were ragged. But he hummed a tune as he ran, and Azalea had the feeling that he was happy.

  Mr. Chang’s house was, Azalea knew, a little way up the side of the Peak, above the elegant white houses built by the Europeans in Victoria.

  When they reached it she saw with delight that it was completely Chinese with its green tiles and carved eaves ornamented with porcelain dragons.

  She paid the rickshaw boy, knowing she would not be able to afford to keep him waiting for her, and was bowed into the house which was built Chinese-fashion round several courtyards.

  It was, Azalea saw, a very impressive and luxurious residence even for a rich Chinese.

  Kai Yin Chang was delighted to see her.

  “You honour us with your presence,” she said bowing almost to the ground, then forgetting ceremony she clapped her hands to exclaim, “I hope you come! I much to say! You very welcome!”

  Azalea saw her apartments and felt she could have spent hours looking at the long, scroll-like Chinese pictures on the walls, the pottery which she knew was very old, and the exquisitely carved pieces of jade. Never had Azalea imagined that jade could range in colour from pure white through clear emerald green to dark, almost black, green.

  There was a nephrite dish of warm bronze exquisitely carved with feline figures.

  “Chow dynasty,” Mrs. Chang told her.

  A carving of a flowering lotus was in white and pale green, so delicately executed that Azalea felt she could almost see the petals move.

  “Ch’ing dynasty,” Mrs. Chang said.

  Most elaborate was a white jade bottle ornamented with rubies and emeralds in a gold setting, but Azalea preferred a coral carving of Wang Mu riding above the clouds.

  “Honourable husband say jade come from Heaven, heals body and gives immortality,” Mrs. Chang said in Chinese.

  “I am not certain I want to live for ever,” Azalea replied, “but I would love to own even a tiny piece.”

  “Jade also keep away evil thoughts,” Mrs. Chang went on. “Bring plenty good luck.”

  “Then I must certainly try to possess a small piece,” Azalea said wistfully.

  She looked at the jade again, feeling almost as if it had the power to help her.

  “What wonderful pieces Mr. Chang has collected!” she exclaimed.

  “He buy many, many, some he sell, some he keep. Best he keep for home.”

  Azalea was sure that was true but she found that Kai Yin Chang knew really very little about them or their value. She only liked, as women of every nation do, to have beautiful things around her.

  An ayah brought in Jam Kin looking attractively doll like, and then he was taken away for a rest.

  “What we do?” Kai Yin Chang asked.

  “Please show me more of your wonderful possessions,” Azalea begged. “They are so exciting for me.”

  “Show you my clothes,” Kai Yin Chang replied. She brought from cupboards and chests the most exquisitely embroidered tunics that Azalea had ever seen. To go with them were trousers in brilliant coloured satin, and coats for the winter that were lined with sable and rich furs.

  Kai Yin Chang was wearing a tunic of dark emerald green with trousers of orange satin. When she left the house and on formal occasions she wore a petticoat which was a straight square of embroidery in the front and at the back, and open at the sides. This was richly embroidered like a mandarin’s robe.

  “What do you wear under your tunic?” Azalea asked.

  “Very little! You try one – very comfortable.”

  Azalea hesitated, but there was something fascinating in the thought of trying on anything so beautiful.

  Kai Yin Chang chose for her a tunic of deep rose pink embroidered with flowers of many colours.

  It was lined and piped at the neck and down the side of the slits with a pale leaf green, and as soon as Azalea put it on she realised what a difference the colour made to her skin and to the lights in her hair.

  Now she realised how pastel shades which were so becoming to Violet and Daisy made her seem sallow and took away her natural colouring.

  It seemed very daring to put on the satin trousers which matched the lining of the tunic and were turned up with rose pink.

  They made her feel how large her feet were compared with Kai Yin Chang’s. She, like all Chinese women, had had her feet bound as a child.

  Kai Yin Chang had told her about it when they were on the Orissa.

  “Only slave girls not bound,” she had said.

  Azalea had listened in horror to the details. At eight years of age when the bones of a girl’s foot had become sufficiently hardened to bear the incessant pressure – the binding began.

  The pain was excruciating, the discomfort was actual torture, to contract the feet into such a small compass that they would fit into a shoe of two to three inches in length.

  “I scream, cry, all day – all night!” Kai Yin Chang said almost proudly.

  “When did the pain stop?” Azalea asked.

  “Three – four years!” Kai Yin Chang answered. “But Honourable husband think feet beautiful!”

  “You are very brave!” Azalea said, but Kai Yin Chang only smiled.

  “Now wear hair like me,” she said, to change the subject. She let down Azalea’s long hair and tied it with a pink ribbon and decorated it with hair pins which had beautiful carved green tops.

  “You very beautiful!” she exclaimed. “I lend earrings.”

  It was such fun dressing up, and Azalea could hardly believe the difference the Chinese dress made to her appearance.

  “You best in bold Chinese colours, not milky ones,” Kai Yin Chang said, and they both laughed.

  When Azalea stood up she realised that she and Kai Yin Chang did in fact look very much alike.

  “Two Chinese girls!” Kai Yin Chang said as if she read Azalea’s thoughts. “No one think you English!”

  “I am very happy to be Chinese,” Azalea smiled.

  There was a sudden light of mischief in Kai Yin Chang’s eyes.

  “We play joke on Mr. Chang,” she said. “I introduce you as Chinese friend.”

  “No! We had better not!” Azalea cried quickly, but she was too late. Kai Yin Chang had run from the room. When she returned she said,

  “Servants say Honourable husband i
n room. Come with me. We surprise him!”

  She drew Azalea by the hand and because she did not want to spoil Kai Yin Chang’s excitement she did not protest.

  They ran across the courtyard into another part of the house, which Azalea saw contained even more wonderful treasures than those in Kai Yin Chang’s apartments.

  There was a servant standing outside Mr. Chang’s room, the door of which was made of black walnut, ornamented with magnificent gold carving.

  He opened it, and pulling Azalea by the hand, Kai Yin Chang moved forward.

  “You make obeisance like me,” she whispered.

  Inside the door she sank onto her knees putting her head on her outstretched hands. Azalea did the same.

  “Honourable husband, I beg permission to introduce Honourable friend,” she heard Kai Yin Chang say.

  “You have my permission, wife,” Mr. Chang replied.

  Azalea glanced sideways out of the corner of her eye at Kai Yin Chang.

  She was raising just her head and then her body until she was kneeling on the ground.

  Azalea followed her example.

  Then as she looked a little shyly at Mr. Chang, wondering if he would immediately penetrate her disguise, she realised he was not alone.

  Sitting beside him on a carved ebony chair was Lord Sheldon!

  Chapter Five

  For a moment Azalea was unable to move – then, frantically, she hoped Lord Sheldon would not recognise her. But Mr. Chang saw immediately that his wife was playing a trick on him.

  He rose to his feet and bowed to Azalea.

  “It is a very great honour for you to enter my humble house,” he said. “Whether you come as Miss Osmund or as ‘Fragrant Flower’ you are always welcome!”

  Azalea was suddenly very conscious of her Chinese dress and that Lord Sheldon was staring at her in his penetrating manner which always made her blush.

  Before she could speak Kai Yin Chang exclaimed in mock exasperation,

  “You guessed! You guessed who she was! Honourable husband too clever to be deceived! Very disappointing!”

  Azalea would have withdrawn from the room, but as she turned away, embarrassed and uncertain of herself, Lord Sheldon said to Mr. Chang,

  “I wonder if it would be possible for me to speak alone with Miss Osmund?”

  “But of course, my Lord,” Mr. Chang replied. “My house is yours!

  “I am sure Miss Osmund would like to see your beautiful garden,” Lord Sheldon said. “And so should I. I am told it is one of the sights of Hong Kong.”

  “You are very gracious,” Mr. Chang replied.

  Leading the way he made a gesture to invite Azalea to follow him.

  There was nothing she could do but obey. At the same time she longed to run away – to hide – to change herself back into her own clothes and, most of all, not to have to talk to Lord Sheldon alone.

  Yet she was well aware that to argue or protest would merely make her appear ridiculous and would insult him quite unnecessarily in front of Mr. and Mrs. Chang.

  She therefore followed her host across another beautiful courtyard and along a passage until they reached a door which led out into the garden.

  Mr. Chang opened the door and Azalea and Lord Sheldon walked onto a veranda beyond which lay the garden.

  As they appeared they disturbed a number of birds moving about on the grass. They rose as one flock into the air and there was a dazzling glimpse of blue feathers.

  “The blue magpies!” Azalea exclaimed.

  “Let us hope they bring us luck,” Lord Sheldon said. Azalea smiled remembering what she had said about them on the ship to Mrs. Chang. Then she said almost beneath her breath,

  “I need luck!”

  They walked side-by-side down a twisting path edged with sweet-scented flowers.

  Azalea had read that Chinese gardens were unusual because of their unique, unsurpassed landscaping.

  She had been told that even a small and uninteresting piece of ground could, by skilful arrangement, be given an impression of space and beauty. But in a large acreage on the side of the Peak, Mr. Chang had created a poem of imaginative delight.

  There were clever groupings of rock-work, high bridges over ponds covered with water-lilies, small streams and cascades which produced an element of surprise.

  The flowers and shrubs were arranged in a harmony and colour that was almost indescribable.

  Roses, hydrangeas, peonies and azaleas, many of the dwarf variety, made a carpet of colour on the ground, while creepers of every hue hung from the boughs of trees and from the eaves of exquisite little pavilions.

  Apricot, peach and orange blossom gave the garden a fairy-like quality and the magnolia trees were pure white against the blue of the sky.

  “It is lovely! More lovely than any other garden I can imagine!” Azalea exclaimed.

  They had moved a little way from the house to stand looking at the pink-and-white water-lilies on the silver surface of a pond.

  “It is very beautiful!” Lord Sheldon agreed, “and so are you in your Chinese costume!”

  She looked at him in surprise because the compliment was unexpected – then, seeing the expression in his eyes, she looked quickly away again.

  She was trembling.

  “I have to see you, Azalea,” Lord Sheldon said. “You must realise that.”

  “It is – impossible!”

  “But why? Why must you go on pretending that there is nothing between us?”

  “There can be nothing!”

  “Why? Why? Ever since I have known you, Azalea, you have presented me with insoluble problems, with questions to which I do not know the answers. It cannot go on!”

  There was silence for a moment while Azalea clasped her fingers together, her eyes on the water-lilies.

  “Your skin is like a magnolia!” Lord Sheldon said. “I know now what has been puzzling me about you before.”

  He paused but as Azalea did not speak, he went on,

  “It is because you wear clothes of the wrong colours. The pink of that tunic gives you purple lights in your hair and makes your skin as beautiful as the petal of a flower.”

  “You should not – say such – things to – me,” Azalea answered in a low voice.

  “Why not?” he enquired. “Why should I not say what any other man would say if he had the chance?”

  “Because I must not – listen. You know that my uncle and aunt would disapprove.”

  “I am quite certain they would disapprove much more of your being here alone with me in a garden belonging to a Chinese gentleman,” Lord Sheldon said with a hint of laughter in his voice.

  “They are my friends,” Azalea said as if he challenged her.

  “You could not have chosen better,” Lord Sheldon answered. “Mr. Chang is a very remarkable man. I had heard about him when he was in England and he was one of the first people upon whom I wished to call when I reached Hong Kong. However we met first on the Orissa.”

  “Why did you wish to meet him?” Azalea asked because she was curious.

  “I wanted Mr. Chang’s opinion on how the Colony is run,” Lord Sheldon replied, “on the reforms that the Government is trying to put into practice, but most of all I needed his help personally.”

  He saw the surprise in Azalea’s eyes and smiled.

  “You are not the only person who admires Chinese beauty. I wish to add to my collection of paintings, jade and pottery. There is no one here more knowledgeable than Mr. Chang.”

  “I saw some of his treasures in Mrs. Chang’s apartments. They were even more exciting than I thought they would be.”

  “You must get Mr. Chang to tell you the history of some of the pieces he owns,” Lord Sheldon said. “And perhaps one day I will be able to tell you about mine.”

  There was a note in his voice which made Azalea quiver as if she vibrated to strange music, then she said quickly,

  “That is – something that will never – happen. I must be frank with you, my
Lord – and tell you that we can – never even be – friends.”

  “Why not?”

  The question was sharp.

  “Because my aunt would never allow it, and you have already offended my uncle by supporting the Governor.”

  She made a little gesture with her hands.

  “That is immaterial where I am concerned, but for reasons I cannot tell you I am not allowed to have even an acquaintance with any – man – let alone you.”

  “Why me particularly?”

  “Because you are too grand – too important. But even if you were not – I should be kept – away from you. As you must realise by this time, I may play no – part in my aunt’s – social life.”

  “I am well aware of that,” Lord Sheldon answered. “I instructed the Governor’s secretary to be quite certain that you were invited to the garden party this afternoon. When your aunt refused on your behalf I guessed you would seize the opportunity to visit your friend Mrs. Chang.”

  “You came here to look for me?” Azalea asked in astonishment.

  “It was one reason, and the most important one, for my visiting Mr. Chang for the second time since my arrival.”

  Azalea said nothing and after a moment Lord Sheldon continued,

  “Look at me, Azalea!”

  It was a command, and although she wished to disobey him, she found herself unable to do so.

  Then as she turned her head to look up into his face she could see him silhouetted bare-headed against the pink blossom of an almond tree. It seemed to give him an almost magical appearance.

  There was something different about him from other men, she told herself.

  It was not his good looks, it was not his air of distinction or authority – it was something else, something that she knew the Chinese would have found when they looked beneath the surface.

  “Can you really believe, Azalea,” Lord Sheldon asked in his deep voice, “that we can walk away from each other and forget what our lips have said, not in words, but in a kiss?”

  Azalea felt the colour come into her cheeks and she could not take her eyes from his.

  “It is – what we – have to do,” she whispered.