He replied in his stuffiest English accent. “I say, my good fellow. I have some questions to put to you.”
Having passed the language test, the man relaxed slightly. “But of course.”
“I’m looking for a woman, a relative of mine.” His neck felt overly warm in this heavy coat. How anyone bore it for any length of time, he would never know. “She’s very young.”
A tick. The bellman glanced at Benedict. He wasn’t so gauche as to let emotions show on his visage, but after a pause, he spoke. “Younger than you? So, a girl, you mean.”
Benedict felt a flush rise. “Maybe a year older than me,” he muttered. “So, a woman, I suppose.”
By now his sister Theresa would be a woman—old enough to marry if she wanted such a thing. If she had stayed in England, she would have been trotted out on the marriage market by his elder sister’s mother-in-law. She probably would have had offers—Theresa had some money coming to her—and she would have turned them all down.
Running away had been the more straightforward option. Instead of having to say no, no, no a thousand times, it had been one emphatic no, and now you can’t possibly stop me. Benedict had been tasked with stopping her. To do so, he also had been compelled to leave Britain.
Well, if that’s what it takes, he had said, trying to sound sincere. Duty to my family above all else!
Since everyone in Britain but his family hated him, it had been absolutely no hardship at all to volunteer to look for his sister. So long as he didn’t find her, he didn’t have to say no himself. No, I don’t want to go to university. No, I don’t want to marry one of these fine English maidens. No, I don’t want to petition to take my father’s title.
It was far simpler to search fruitlessly for Theresa.
Judith, his eldest sister, approved of Benedict’s pointless quest and wrote him commiserating letters. All Benedict had to do in return is keep her apprised of what he was doing to not find her. So long as he never found her, they’d both be happy.
He gave the bellman a winning smile.
“She would have been accompanied by an elderly lady,” he said.
The man waited for Benedict to continue. He waited a beat longer. After the silence had begun to stretch to uncomfortable lengths, the bellman spoke again. “Can you provide no other identifying characteristics?”
If anyone ever questioned Benedict about this particular tactic, he would have pointed out that identifying characteristics could be changed. He wouldn’t put it past Theresa to have dyed her hair or some other ridiculous thing.
“The young woman is rather determined,” he finally said because downright dictatorial would have been too specific. He should know; he had grown up with Theresa—or, as he had once called her—General Worth. He had been dragooned into her private army at the tender age of nine, and she had ordered him about for years. He still missed her.
“I see.” The footman stared at him. “You’re looking for a young woman and an old woman.”
“Yes.”
“Traveling together.”
“Yes.”
“With no other company?”
Benedict paused. “Probably not? But maybe so. I could not say.”
“When might they have come through?”
“Sometime in the past three years?” He shrugged carelessly.
It was a miracle that the bellman did not actually hit him. “Sir.” The man took a deep breath. “You could be describing dozens—no, hundreds—of people. Can you not narrow it down a bit more?”
Well, that was the entire point. Benedict was trying to describe as many people as possible.
He looked up, in apparent consideration. “Her nose looks like this?” Benedict inscribed a vaguely triangular shape in the air.
“Like a nose.”
“Well, you know. Like this kind of nose.” He repeated the triangular shape.
The bellman took a breath. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then inhaled once again. “Sir, my best advice to you is to speak to Secretary Larkin in the British Consul’s office. He sees a great number of people on a regular basis; he’s most likely to be of service to you in identifying these people.”
“What excellent advice.” Benedict cursed internally. “Thank you, my good man. There’s obviously a lot that must be done here.” Because he was trying to be incompetent and not a complete arse, he slipped the man a heavy coin. With a nod of his head, he left.
Outside, the sun had begun to heat the air in earnest. He could feel sweat begin to bead on his collar. This was the point where, if he were with another Englishman, they would exchange wry comments about the oppressiveness of the climate, the barbarousness of the humidity.
He was not with another Englishman. He was surrounded by them here in the British Concession, but he was—effectively—alone.
God, he loved not being in England.
It took ten minutes to return to the room he had let. It was outside the British Concession, near enough to the Lord Traders office that he’d be able to do his duties without much difficulty. A faint draft swept through the windows; he stretched out, positioned himself at a desk, found ink and paper, and began to write.
Dear Judith,
I have finally had a chance to get to Shanghai, and as you will see, there is much to do.
He smiled, thinking of the outrage the bellman had done his best to try to squelch. Benedict absolutely hated England; his search for his sister provided him with the best explanation for his continued absence.
I have asked about, and nobody seems to remember a woman of Theresa’s exact description.
Because he had not given an exact description. That would be one possible reason nobody remembered her.
That being said, there are many who seem to recall someone who might possibly be her, depending on the occasion and concealment that she might have utilized.
Amazing what one could accomplish when one’s description was “female, of some height, in possession of a nose.”
I shall do my utmost to track those rumors to all corners of the earth.
Better to track ridiculous rumors, after all, than his actual sister. He added a few paragraphs about his personal well-being, then signed the letter with a flourish, blotting the paper and folding it up.
He hesitated a few moments before pulling out another sheet.
General Worth, he wrote. Most people would think this an odd way to address one’s sister, but most people did not know Theresa Worth. If they had known her as Benedict did, they would have known she would be addressed as General Worth if she wanted to be addressed as General Worth. And she did.
It appears that I will be in Shanghai for at least a year or so. There may be intermittent visits to Hong Kong, so do not come to either place without informing me.
It was difficult work, pretending to search for his sister while actually being determined not to find her. In the beginning, Benedict had done too good of a job of it, and he’d actually caught up with her. Four months after he had left England, he’d encountered her in the lobby of a hotel in Bombay just as she was leaving.
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Theresa had groused at him as she’d come up beside him. “This world is not large enough for the two of us!”
From someone else, those words would have been a threat. From her, it had been the simple truth.