“Fuzhou to Hong Kong to Shanghai? That’s a roundabout journey.”
“The ship he came on was en route here, and the main office here in Hong Kong had some papers for me to sign.” Amelia put her nose in the air. “Be aware, Leland—I’m now an employed woman.”
He did not shriek in horror, which was unsurprising since he’d been the one to put her in Captain Hunter’s way. “How long are you here for?”
“I have another handful of hours before the Celerity departs.”
It was a shame. Not that Amelia had much love for Hong Kong; she’d only been twice before. Once had been shortly after her marriage to Mr. Alden, when they’d taken a ship to Bombay from Victoria Harbor. The second time had been on her return after his death.
She’d stayed a week with her brother then. For comfort, she’d told her mother, in her time of loss. But she hadn’t felt loss or sadness. She’d just felt relieved and guilty about feeling relieved.
On both occasions, she had thought Hong Kong humid and crowded. She’d no desire to stay here except for one thing. In Hong Kong, she knew Leland, and in Shanghai, she knew absolutely nobody.
Except perhaps… Amelia was so used to her unruly imagination that she tamped down this wayward daydream—a hint of wind, a lonely road, and a woman she didn’t know but instantly recognized—with scarcely a thought.
“Well then. Let’s not waste time. Would you like to go for a walk?”
Technically, Amelia did not want to go for a walk. Walking in Hong Kong was like swimming through air so humid she felt like a goldfish in a heated pond. And she was dressed in layer after layer after layer of clothing.
“Of course,” she told her brother because she was ridiculous. “Anything you like.”
He took her down by the harbor. “I’m glad you took Captain Hunter up on his offer,” he said after a while.
“I am too. It’s odd. It had never occurred to me that employment was a thing I could do. And yet here I am. I wish the idea had struck me earlier.”
“Weeeell.” Leland elongated the word, shaking his head in a way that seemed a touch bitter. “That’s Mama for you. She has only one definition of womanhood, and if you don’t want it, she’ll never comprehend.”
What an uncharitable thing to say. Not that Amelia would actually disagree now that he’d put it in words so plainly. She’d just never imagined that Leland—of all people, sweet and gentle Leland—would say it.
Amelia looked over at her brother. His nose was wrinkled.
“I wasn’t sure you would take Captain Hunter’s offer. You’ve always been a bit under her thumb,” Leland continued.
Amelia stared at him. Under her thumb? He’d never spoken like this before. Oh, he’d made a few gentle remarks about their mother previously; she knew they had disagreements. Large ones. Mother had wanted him to stay in Fuzhou. Why not be a missionary here? she’d asked. Leland had admitted to Amelia on more than one occasion that getting away was the entire point.
“And you, I suppose, are out from under her thumb?”
“She still wants me to marry,” Leland said with a shrug. “Honestly, it’s the only thing she can think of, man or woman. Is your future in doubt? Marry. Is your future not in doubt? Also marry. Marriage cannot be the answer to all of life’s problems. Especially since she is married, and…” He cleared his throat. “You know.”
Mr. Acheson was in Fuzhou maybe two months out of the year. They maintained very cordial relationships during that time, and not one iota of communication outside it. Amelia tried to think of a delicate way to respond. “It’s not the only thing she thinks of. She also takes in children.”
Leland let out a cackle. “Amelia! That was almost unkind. Look at you. My little sister is all grown up.”
She hadn’t meant it unkindly, and she didn’t see what any of this had to do with growing up. But he beamed proudly at her, and she didn’t want to make him frown. They lapsed into silence for a few steps more.
“Do you ever wonder?” Leland asked.
“I wonder often. Wonder about what though?”
“Why we’re here.” Leland gestured, encompassing the harbor around them. “What we’re doing. Why we even send missionaries. It was all well and good when I thought I was saving souls, but what if I’m not? Sometimes I think that everyone else’s soul is perfectly intact, and I’m the one without.”
She looked over at her brother. Amelia had wondered when she was in India. She had been seventeen when she’d first married and gone to Bombay. The first few months, she hadn’t thought much of anything; she’d been so wrapped up in the newness of her role. But after she’d settled in…well. She sometimes had thoughts.
It had felt to her like a horrible breach of manners to show up in someone else’s country and to tell them they were doing everything wrong, and as a consequence, God intended for them all to go to hell. She had felt herself cringing every time someone spoke those words.
She’d never allowed herself to repeat those sentiments to anyone else. The questions attached felt dangerous. If Amelia wasn’t supposed to be in India, it would follow that her mother shouldn’t have been in China, and Amelia’s whole life would be…what, exactly? Wrong? Bad?
She couldn’t allow herself to think it. It was too much to question the entirety of her childhood. Some thoughts were too dangerous to harbor.
Amelia shook her head as if to toss those treacherous ideas out. “You’ve always thought yourself to bits. Maybe you’re doing it now.”
“Maybe other people aren’t thinking enough,” he countered as if he’d heard her unspoken doubts. “Either I am doing the gravest of disservices or…” He trailed off. “Or I am not well. There is no choice that leaves me in the right.”
Not well? She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but it sounded like none of her own thoughts.
He sighed and shook his head. It was obviously an old argument he was having with himself, and he’d failed to rehearse large portions of it for her. She wasn’t following.
“Leland, I cannot imagine you doing anyone harm.”
“Can’t you?” He looked over at her, his eyes sharp. “Ah well. You don’t exactly know what I’ve done.”
“I don’t have the faintest inkling, but I love you. I will love you no matter what.” It was easy to do so; Leland was the one person in the world who understood her.
Like her, he’d been taken in. He had been the child of a soldier whose parents had both passed away; without Mrs. Acheson, he would have been shunted off around the world to some distant and impoverished relation he had never known. He’d grown up with their mother; he understood what she was like. He had been the older brother who taught her English and letters and mathematics, showering her with praise and encouragement. He’d loved Amelia without condition or requirement. It was easy to love him in return.
“That’s the thing,” Leland said, turning to her. “People talk a great deal about unconditional love, but what if it’s not merited?”
“That makes no sense. It’s not unconditional if it has a condition.”