“Do you now?” The taotai did not sound convinced.
“I ask only the right to establish telegraphic offices in treaty cities. This would give Chinese people worldwide the ability to communicate with anyone in China.”
Another shake of the taotai’s head. “That would allow those in treaty cities the right to communicate with anyone in China as well. Why even have treaty cities if foreigners will be able to make their presence known in every village anywhere in the country?”
“Taotai, you and I both know the West. What they do not get from politely asking, they will take by force. I’ve heard half a dozen Englishmen say they should just run a telegraph line to Shanghai in secret.”
The taotai did not react. He had undoubtedly heard the same.
“That,” Grayson said, “is your question. Not will there be a telegraph line to China, but when will you have it? Will you control it? And most of all, will you be a partner in the enterprise or will China be shut out of its future altogether? That’s what I’m offering. A partnership. A chance to own your own wires and set your own rules. It’s a chance to wrest the reins of your future from the West. It’s a shot at a more equal future for both of us. It’s up to you.”
“Thank you.” For a moment, the taotai tilted his head, as if he were about to say something else. Then he turned to the officials who had accompanied him. “We will discuss.”
It was not an outright no. It was also not a yes. It was as good an answer as Grayson had expected for now, and yet…
He held his disappointment in and instead executed a low bow. “Thank you. I look forward to hearing from you.”
On the way back to their offices, Grayson felt as if he were a frozen block. This was expected, he told himself. This was natural. But his dissatisfaction did not vanish simply because he knew it was irrational.
Mrs. Smith’s expression echoed his feelings. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, her brow furrowed. A blustery wind blew about them; long-dead ginkgo nuts crunched underfoot, letting out an unpleasant odor. They passed a gray stone bank, a brick trading house, and a genteel club before finding the street down which the Lord Traders Telegraphic Company offices stood.
He thanked everyone, repeated his thanks for their hard work, and gave assurances about their future success that he had to work to make himself believe.
Finally, he was alone with Mrs. Smith in her office. It was natural to speak with her at a time like this. Quite natural for him to close the door to discuss where they would next proceed. Yet the moment he had done so, he became aware of her. Of the bright expressiveness of her eyes infected by worry, of the purse of her lips.
She was watching him, her forehead wrinkling with worry.
“That…” She exhaled slowly. “I thought, during the presentation, that we were missing something. I wish I’d seen it earlier.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry.” He’d known it would happen, after all, and it was his problem to solve, not hers. “It went as well as it could have.”
“But in the middle of it I realized that the proposal was all about encoding and money, with not one word of the things that matter. If I’d made it better—”
He waved this all away with a sweeping gesture. “You made it to my precise specifications. If there is fault, it is mine for not advising you on the political situation here. We’ve come further than any telegraphic company thus far.”
“But…” She looked up at him. Her eyes were glossy with almost-shed tears.
“None of that,” Grayson said gruffly, coming to stand directly in front of her. “The only immediate answer the taotai could give was no. And I honestly suspect we’ll still hear that as well. It’s fine.”
For some reason, those words made her bite her lower lip and tilt her head down so he couldn’t catch her expression. She contemplated her hands as if they were endlessly fascinating.
“It’s fine,” Grayson repeated. He felt as if he were convincing himself as much as her. “I have always expected that we would be refused at first. But we will be first to introduce our code in Hong Kong, and as it catches on—”
She raised her head abruptly. There was something like fire in her gaze, something hot and indignant. “Captain Hunter.” His name felt like an admonition, and he stopped speaking.
“What is it?”
“It’s not fine.” She sounded so indignant that at first he didn’t understand the source of her ire. “You don’t think it’s fine, no matter what you’re saying. Don’t tell me it’s fine if it isn’t fine.”
He was stunned speechless.
“It’s not fine!” She took a step forward, jabbing a finger into his chest, glaring up at him. “I know what you sound like when you believe what you say, and it’s not that.”
He exhaled and wrapped his hand around her finger, arresting it midjab. She was close, so close that he could have leaned down and tasted her. “I believe what I said.” He felt weary. “I believe very much that your code is brilliant. That there was no fault in it, or in how you presented it.” He realized he was still holding on to her hand, warm in his, and dropped it hastily. “I believe in you. None of that is a lie.”
But, he didn’t say. But…
She heard it anyway. “But?”
He could not leave her in doubt of her accomplishments. That was it—the only reason he spoke.
“But,” he said softly, “my brother John would have done a better job of convincing the taotai, and I am very much aware of my own limitations.”
Said out loud, the words had weight to them, a cold crackling sharpness that cut through the emptiness in his heart, threatening to cleave straight through his studied equanimity into the well of grief he couldn’t let himself acknowledge. Grayson swallowed and looked away.
“We’d planned this together,” he told her. “What I said to the taotai was all a memory of what John had once told me. He said it better six years ago, with no time to study it. If he had been here, he would have done it right.”
His grief had edges, but it also had pressure. He could feel it on his soul—not just the pain of loss, but the unspeakable burden of carrying what must be done.
“Now you know why I didn’t tell you.” He made the words mocking. “It’s to my advantage if you don’t realize that the most grandiose portions of my plan aren’t even mine. Let’s pretend I never mentioned it.”
“Grayson.” There was a subtle reprimand in her tone. In the use of his Christian name. “I have been thinking much lately about why I… Never mind me.” She met his eyes. “I understand that sometimes it is necessary to lie and claim everything is well. I told myself I wasn’t doing it, but I was. But if you never tell anyone you’re not fine, who will take care of you?”
God. The sheer density of the load on him felt unbearable. Take care of him? The concept felt impossible.
Take care of him? Not Noah, his sweet younger brother. Not Harry, his longtime confidante. Not John. He thought of the flash of resentment in his mother’s eyes, of the five days he’d spent with his family, of her saying, I’m so glad you’ve taken a week from your busy schedule to see your family.