"Ayeeyah, no unnerstan' Missee-tai-tai," Ah Soh grunted, petrified by the venom on her mistress's face and in her voice. "No 'unnerstan'!"

"Oh yes you do! Dew neh loh moh-ah," she spat out the Cantonese curse words as she had heard Malcolm use them at Chen once when he was angry with him and had seen Chen go white. He had never told her what the words meant but they had the same effect on Ah Soh whose legs nearly gave way.

"Ayeeeeeyahhh!"

"If you talk, Ah Soh, tai-tai will ..." Furiously Angelique stabbed her long nails to within a millimeter of her eyes and held them there. "Tai-tai do this! Understand?"

"'unnerstan! Sek'ret, tai-tai!" The frightened woman moaned some Cantonese, put fingers to her lips parodying a clamp. "Ah Soh no talk 'unnerstan'!"

Getting hold of her fury though her heart was still racing, Angelique pushed the woman towards the bed and got into it again. Imperiously she pointed at the coffee cup. "Dew neh loh moh! Pour my coffee!"

Saturated with humility and genuine fear, Ah Soh poured the coffee and handed it to her and stood there meekly.

"No talk, make all bed, clothes, clean.

Secret!"

"'unnerstan' tai-tai, no talk, sek'ret, 'unnerstan'."

"No talk! Or..." Her nails slashed the air. "Bath!"

Ah Soh scuttled away to get the hot water but first, breathlessly to whisper the news to Chen whose eyes would turn to heaven and he would say, "ayeeyah, what will Tai-tai Tess do now," on the run to speed the news on the fastest ship to Illustrious Compradore Chen who had commanded them to inform him at once, irrespective of cost.

The coffee was delicious. It soothed her stomach and spirit and took away the slight tumescence. One of Angelique's true joys in all the world was early morning coffee, most of all with croissants and Colette on the Champs-Elys`ees at one of the elegant street caf`es, reading the latest Court Circular and watching the world stroll by.

First church. I will pretend that nothing has happened yet--Ah Soh won't dare to say anything. Who to tell first? Hoag? Andr`e?

Edward? Mr. Skye?

She had already had a discussion with Heavenly Skye. His advice was that they had no option but to wait, to see what Hoag would do, and after that, what Tess would do. Tess's letter to him had been brief: Dear Mr. Skye: I know my son had dealings with you. Cease and desist in our affairs, my son's and mine. No good will come of it.

"Interesting choice of words," he had commented.

"You sound afraid, as though we've lost already."

"Not at all, Angelique. Our only posture can be to wait. She has the initiative."

"By the next mail I want you to write to Struan's solicitors, asking for an accounting of my husband's estate." This had been an idea Andr`e had given her, favoring opening of an immediate offensive.

"Gladly, if you want to fall into her trap."

"What?"' "Your only posture is the aggrieved, wronged child-widow who was enticed into an early marriage by a strong-willed man--not the impoverished, rapacious widow of a rich husband, a profligate minor, who had gone against his mother's wishes in marrying an impoverished lady of questionable antecedents--please don't be angry, I only tell you what can, may and probably will be said. You must wait, dear lady, pretending to hope that Tess will behave like a human being should.

If his child was, er, is en route, that would be a great assist."

"And if there isn't?"' "Let us consider that when it happens, I mean when it doesn't. Lots of time to con--"' "I don't have lots of time. I will run out of money."

"Be patient..."

Mon Dieu, patience! Men and their patience.

Now that Angelique knew beyond doubt she was not bearing Malcolm's child, she set aside all the ideas she had formulated in the event of a baby and concentrated on the other set.

An immediate onslaught on that woman? No, that comes later, Mr. Skye's right in that. I have to find out what she is going to do first. To do that I have to tell Hoag or Babcott. Hoag delivered her message so he will have to be the one. No need to have him paw me, either of them. I can tell him.

At once or later? Is it worth asking Andr`e, or Edward? I don't think so.

Having no baby to contend with, to consider, makes my life simpler, my chances of remarriage better. Whatever happens, like every girl in the world, I must have a protector, the right husband--or, at length, any husband.

As to my prospects: I don't have money enough to get back to Paris to set myself up there. I've no prospects except through a settlement with Struan's--no, not with the company, with that woman.

Even Edward is tied up in that. Especially him. Without a good settlement for me, and her benevolence on his deal, his marriage interest will evaporate. That's fair because mine will evaporate quicker. He's in love with me, I'm not in love with him though I like him a lot, but without mutual financial security the connection has no logic.

Always back to that woman, whatever idea comes up, Angelique thought, not a little pleased with the way her mind was working, coolly logically, not worrying, simply examining all aspects as a prudent woman should.

I can last a month or two, no more--if I don't give any more money to Andr`e. Soon my chits will run out, any day Albert can get orders to stop my credit and throw me out. I can almost read her spiteful mind. Never mind, I can move to the French Legation. But they won't support me for very long.

Sir William? No reason for him to do more than he has. Andr`e is the only one outside her grasp who can help. Think clearly, Angelique, that's wrong! When Andr`e sees that the money is drying up or has dried up, no telling what he may do in desperation. He could sell Tess that awful paper, he could give her proof about the... about the past. He's a cynic, callous enough or clever enough to have kept proof I paid for the medicine with the earrings I lost. He'd settle for much less money than I would. Even so he's the only man here evil enough to combat her.

Edward will go against her but only up to a point.

He won't lose Rothwell-Gornt.

Should I get Edward to go back to Hong Kong at once? Or Hoag, he's a friend, a sort of friend and he's the one she sent to me? Or Andr`e? Not him for then I wouldn't sleep a moment knowing he was in Hong Kong with that woman, unwatched.

For her church was a huge success, even with her melancholy. She had dressed as usual in black, a medium veil covered her hat and face. Prayerbook in hand she had set out on the blustery day, and when she passed the Catholic church on the promenade, joining the throng that headed for Holy Trinity, and went up its path and entered the church and sat in the empty back row, at once going to her knees and beginning to pray, a current went through the nave, already half full, echoed by latecomers, the current gathering strength and swooping through the Settlement and into Drunk Town.

"Godalmighty, the Angel's gone to church, our church..."

"Holy Trinity? Bollicks she's Catholic..."

"Bollicks or not she be in't Holy Titties, bright as a berry, all dress in red and no knickers on..."

"Oh for God's sake, don't spread rumors..."

"That's no rumor, she don't never wears knickers..."

"In Holy Titties? Holy God! Is she become one of us'n?"

"Old Tweety'll wet hiself with glee ..."

Maureen and Jamie had been behind her. They hesitated beside the last pew, readying to say, May we sit with you? but Angelique was still kneeling as if in prayer and did not acknowledge them though aware of their presence; and not a little envious of the joyous green of Maureen's dress and coat and matching hat, with its plume of yellow chiffon hanging down her back. In a moment they moved on, shoved ahead by the press of the others and not wanting to disturb her--which was what she wanted.