Authors: Bonnie Dee
Like a piece of glass it cut her. She felt the sharpness in her chest as she understood all in a moment exactly what her situation was. Still she prayed she was wrong, that he wasn’t suggesting she would become a courtesan.
“Honorable Xie Fuhua, forgive my ignorance, but I do not understand your meaning,” she demurred.
He heaved another sigh. “I own many properties and businesses in this city, including houses of pleasure. You are not so innocent that you don’t know what those are?”
She nodded.
“My various establishments offer many levels of entertainment depending on what a man can afford.
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Captive Bride
You, my princess, will not be subjected to the filth of the cribs or a cheap brothel. I will bill you as royalty and charge highly for your favors.”
“Sir.” She bowed deeply, doing her utmost to remain calm. “I cannot comply with your wishes. I regret your expense in bringing me here and apologize for the misunderstanding, but I wish to return home.
I’m sure my parents will repay you.” He straightened from his casual lounge against the desk.
“No. That is not what’s going to happen.” His smooth voice was no longer gentle. The glass grew sharper and slashed her into ribbons. “You’ve been paid for. You belong to me, and there’s no one in this city who will deny my rights. I’m the most powerful man in Chinatown. No one dares cross me. So don’t even think of attempting to try to escape this house.
There’s no place for you to run to and no one who will help you.”
Huiann’s head spun. There seemed to be no air left in the room and the edges of her vision grew black.
She feared she would pass out. She forced herself to draw a deep breath and steady her nerves.
“Now, I order you again to remove your robe.” The glass turned to cold steel.
Huiann weighed her options. She could attempt to run from the room, and Liu Dai would grab her and rip the robe from her body. She could scream or weep or faint on the floor at Xie Fuhua’s feet, but no matter what she did, there was no doubt in her mind he would have his way. He would see her naked, conscious or unconscious, struggling or submissive. She’d rather be in control of the moment, hold her head high and not Bonnie Dee
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allow him to see her horror and shame. Let him believe she was completely cowed and, the moment she had a chance, she
would
run away even if she had no place to run to.
With shaking fingers she loosened the tie and slowly opened the robe. In the quiet of the book-lined office, she heard Liu Dai’s quick intake of breath as the fabric slid over her shoulders and pooled on the floor around her feet. Huiann longed to cover her breasts and her sex, but forced her hands to remain clenched at her sides. She held her chin up, no longer gazing politely at the floor. She stared past Xie Fuhua’s shoulder at the wood mantel over the fireplace that dominated one wall of the room.
Her nipples grew taut, although the room wasn’t cold. The lips of her sex also became tight and stiff.
Fire burned in her belly and tears stung her eyes. She stared even harder at the fireplace, willing her eyes dry.
“Exquisite. Very lovely, Liu Dai. Are you positive she’s a virgin?”
“Yes, sir.” His voice cracked. “An untouched lotus.
She should fetch a great price.” Xie nodded. “Good. You’ve done well. Madam Teng, teach her what she needs to know.” He paused then added, “You may get dressed now, girl.” Huiann continued to bite the insides of her cheeks, stopping her lips from quivering. She blinked the moisture from her eyes and stooped to pick up her robe from the floor.
After she’d tied the robe around her trembling body, Xie Fuhua stepped close and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, gripping it tight. “You’re a very brave girl, Huiann. No tantrums, no tears. That pleases 32
Captive Bride
me, but it worries me too. Such a strong, brave girl might think she has the power to escape her fate.” He pinched her neck and a bolt of pain shot through her.
“Let me say again. Even should you escape this house, there is no place for you to run, no one who will give you shelter. I hold this city in the palm of my hand. Do you understand?”
Huiann nodded in compliance, but already she was making plans.
“The veal is excellent, Mrs. Dodge. Thank you so much for inviting me tonight.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Sommers. But you’re too kind about the meal. It’s only passable. Back home we had a cook who served delectable dinners. It’s so hard to find good servants here.” Mrs. Abigail Dodge, the banker’s wife, patted her lips before returning her napkin to her lap. The elaborate beading on her dress clattered like twigs and Alan wondered how many pounds all those beads weighed.
He turned his attention to the Dodges’ daughter, Cynthia. Her pale blue eyes were so wide they gave her a vacant appearance, but perhaps there was more depth to her than one would guess on first glance.
“Miss Dodge, how do you like San Francisco?”
“Honestly, I find it rather dismal. There’s far more fog and rain than I expected.” The young woman glanced at her mother’s disapproving frown then back at Alan. “But the bay is beautiful when the sun does make an appearance.”
“Yes.” He should ask her questions about the finishing school she’d attended or discuss the weather, but he was really only interested in the meal. Despite Bonnie Dee
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Mrs. Dodge’s protest, the food was delicious. But since he was invited as an eligible bachelor deemed suitable for the Dodges’ daughter, his payment for a meal demanded he make some effort.
“You must miss New England and all your school friends.”
“I do. Very much.” The vehemence of Cynthia’s words earned another frown from her mother. The young woman bit her lower lip as though remembering she was meant to charm their dinner guest, not show disfavor to the city he called home. “I understand you’re originally from New Hampshire, Mr.
Sommers.”
“Yes.” He pictured his parents’ house and the quaint town in a tree-shrouded hamlet a world away from the bustling commotion of San Francisco.
“What brought you to California?” Alan sipped his wine while he tried to decide how honest to be. “After the war I returned home but couldn’t seem to settle there, so I took a train headed west and kept going until I reached the ocean.” A truthful yet surface answer. His sense of disassociation from his old life, the melancholy and hopelessness that drove him to wander, were hardly suitable dinner topics.
Cynthia put a hand to her chest, drawing his attention to her décolletage. She seemed to be practicing flirtatious wiles someone had recommended and didn’t appear comfortable in the role. “My goodness, a war hero in our midst.”
“Not a hero, just a veteran,” Alan said.
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Captive Bride
“Whether you earned a medal or not, I’m sure your service was heroic.” Mrs. Dodge signaled for the servant to bring the next course.
“What outfit did you serve with?” Mr. Dodge leaned forward and gave Alan his full attention. “I was in the Third Cavalry.”
“Ninth Infantry. Enlisted, much to my father’s chagrin. I was rebellious and left college to enlist. At the time it seemed cowardly to continue going to class while everyone I knew was fighting for the Union.” Alan gave a small bitter smile. “I might as well have stayed put for all the good I did. I was felled by the concussion of an artillery shell in my first battle and spent the rest of the war in a Confederate prison.” Alan forked a few peas and occupied himself with chewing. That was enough. He’d already shared more than he wanted to with the Dodge family.
“It was a terrible time for our nation. Terrible.” Mrs.
Dodge sighed then quickly changed the subject. “Mr.
Sommers, you might be interested to know that a group of women is planning a fundraiser to erect an opera house for our community. The advent of culture is exactly what this city needs.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, happy to let Mrs. Dodge prattle on about the blossoming cultural scene. The woman clearly wanted to scale the walls of Nob Hill.
When Mrs. Dodge finally drew breath, Alan seized the opportunity to pursue his own agenda with Mr.
Dodge, picking his brain about city government and Alan’s chances of scaling
those
walls.
“You thinking of tossing your hat in the ring?” Mr.
Dodge finally surmised the reason for Alan’s questions.
“Well, good for you. We need a man who will fight for Bonnie Dee
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justice for the merchants. I know a number of men who would back you if ran for a spot on the Board of Supervisors. The city taxes have become outlandish, and a businessman can’t get a thing accomplished without bribing some do-nothing civil servant.”
“Gentlemen, please,” Mrs. Dodge interrupted.
“Heated discussions of politics go best with after-dinner cigars. Perhaps you might postpone your conversation until then.”
The talk turned to weather—rainy and foggy—and then back to society issues—balls and fundraisers—
until Alan was ready to yell from boredom. It didn’t help that Mrs. Dodge seemed even more interested in him as a matrimonial candidate for her daughter now that she envisioned him becoming a prominent local politician. She listed every accomplishment Cynthia possessed and managed to work in how useful such accomplishments would be for the wife of a community leader.
In the end there was very little time for his talk with Mr. Dodge.
“I’m not even certain I’m the right candidate for this office, but I do have the beginning of a platform and it won’t to be to everyone’s liking.” Alan sat across from Dodge in front of a dead hearth, holding a cigar he didn’t plan to smoke. “Stamp out corruption.
No more bribes or kickbacks or paycheck padding.
Honesty and a fair deal for everyone.”
“A good campaign slogan.” Dodge puffed on his cigar. “Ambitious. But a difficult promise to keep.
You’ll have to negotiate shark-infested waters and sometimes it’s necessary to feed the sharks a little in order to achieve your goal.”
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Captive Bride
Snakes and sharks. It seemed everyone had a favorite representation of those in power.
“But I like you, and I’ll see what I can do to rally support for you at my club.” Dodge chuckled. “A fresh breeze sweeping away the San Francisco fog. That’s what you’ll be.”
Alan was already regretting his rash impulse to get involved as he walked home later that evening with his coat collar upturned against a light drizzle. His hands were full with the store. Besides, was he really ready for a fight and for all the odious backslapping a politician had to do?
But someone had to make a change in this city—
this county—and it might as well be him. He could make up for his wasted years of inertia, interred in a prison camp, by doing some good at last.
His path home took Alan through the edge of Chinatown, a foreign world no white man should walk at night. He pulled his hat low over his face to hide his features and gripped the derringer in his coat pocket.
From taverns, gambling dens and restaurants floated singsong voices and the odors of alien foods. The mysterious Chinese symbols on the signs intrigued him. A small ornate temple in the midst of wooden shacks made a stark contrast between elegant beauty and ugly poverty. Stick-thin beggars wandered the streets along with wealthy businessmen out for an evening’s entertainment in gambling and opium dens and brothels.
Was sex with Chinese women really as different as some men claimed? What would it be like to stroke silken black hair, feel a petite body beneath his and smell the spicy scent of her foreign breath? He passed Bonnie Dee
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a squalid row of cribs where a man beckoned patrons to buy the girls in the small barred cells. Alan’s stomach turned at the grunting sounds of sex coming from inside. Treated like animals, these lowest of all prostitutes merely existed until they were worn out and died of some disease. But were these wretched creatures so very different from their well-dressed, perfumed counterparts in the better brothels—a few of which he’d visited from time to time?
Alan’s momentary burst of lust died away. He walked quickly past the cribs, not wanting to see the fingers poking between the bars as if beseeching help that would never come. They reminded him of other skeletal hands clutching at him when he could give no aid or comfort.
If he were elected to office, maybe he
could
do something, begin to make changes, one of which would be to ensure such slavery was eradicated.
Chinatown had been left to operate by its own laws.
Tong bosses ruled, and city police avoided the area unless the crime involved a white man. His platform of fairness and justice for all could include making certain the laws really did apply to everyone.
As he left Chinatown behind, Alan thought of the woman he’d seen on the wharf the other day, the golden splendor of her gown, her glossy hair and the turbulent emotion in her eyes. He wondered what she was doing right now and if she’d found happiness in her new home.
Chapter Three
Huiann carefully broke the hunk of bread in half and wrapped the extra piece in one of her handkerchiefs before adding it to the little bundle of food hidden beneath a pile of clothes in her closet. She chewed and swallowed every bite of the rest of the bread even though she wasn’t hungry. She must keep up her strength so she’d be ready to run when her moment came. She’d spent four days in the home of Xie Fuhua, locked in her bedroom—the fine furnishings not concealing the fact that it was merely a cage. In that time Madam Teng had given her lessons on what was expected from a courtesan.
“You must give the appearance of innocence ripe for the plucking yet exhibit accomplishment at sex.
Make the man feel that he is a king on this earth and he will come back again and again. He may even bring you gifts,” Madam had informed her yesterday while brushing Huiann’s hair. She looped a coil around each ear, fastening them with golden butterflies.
Her hands rested on Huiann’s shoulders for a moment as she met her eyes in the looking glass.