"My pleasure, Sir William. How was the meeting?"

"Damn fellow didn't turn up, didn't expect us I suppose."

"He's lost face from here to Timbuktu."

"Q." Which was the whole idea, Sir William thought with a secret smile and pointed to the trunks. "You're not leaving surely?"

"No suh, but I am going to Hong Kong by tonight's packet to arrange building supplies for ourselves and others."

"Good idea. Have a safe journey and safe return." He raised his hat and walked off with Seratard. Tyrer, sick with tiredness, reeled after them, hardly acknowledging Gornt.

"Put these aboard, Periera," Gornt said.

"Tell the Captain I'll be aboard in good time. Oh hello, Doc." Hoag hurried up with some coolies bowed under a sea trunk and bags.

"I say, Edward, heard you're on the Atlanta Belle too." Hoag was out of breath and harassed, his clothes and hands bloodstained and filthy, eyes red-rimmed. "Could I prevail on your people to put these aboard for me, I've still a dozen or so arms and legs to set and burns... thanks awfully." He rushed off, not waiting for an answer.

"Put 'em aboard, Periera." Gornt frowned. Why is Hoag in such a hurry to leave? he asked himself.

Everything packed that should be, everything done to ensure Brock's would operate correctly while he was away: which traders to give credit to, which to deny; tomorrow or the next day Choshu representatives were due to discuss arms shipments--a nice business to acquire for himself when the Brocks went under and, as also planned, he acquired the premises and staff here at... well, fire sale prices. He laughed to himself at the joke. Next, the Yoshi coal concession that he had heard might be transferred from Struan's to Seratard through the late Andr`e Poncin's trading company, might still be available to offers. He had instructed his shroff to make such an offer secretly.

Periera was left in charge. Last night, hearing from Maureen that Jamie's new offices were gone, he had planned to appoint Jamie, but to his surprise this afternoon Jamie had thanked him and refused, saying he thought he would be able to re-start his own business.

Jamie would be more icing on the icing, he thought.

Doesn't matter, Jamie'll take over for me when this is all Rothwell-Gornt's. He felt in his pocket.

Norbert's chop was there and the two backdated letters for Tess. His money belt was heavy with more than enough Brock silver Mex and gold for expenses. Good. All done.

Now for Angelique.

"Hello Edward," she said, her smile warm.

This was the first time she had received him in her upstairs boudoir. Ah Soh stood by a wine cooler and he noticed the door to the bedroom was closed, curtains were drawn though the light had not yet completely gone, oil lamps lit, the room feminine, inviting, her manner demure, odd. His tension increased.

"White wine for a change," she said pleasantly. "La Doucette. Bourbon if you wish."

"Wine, please, Ma'am. I've never seen you look better."

"Nor you, my friend. Please sit here, by the fire." Her afternoon, blue-black mourning dress was new, the cut enhancing, the neckline square-cut and modest. But for his pleasure, and hers, she had draped a multicolored silk shawl around her shoulders, the effect startling, a breath of spring on this January day.

"Ah Soh, wine," she said, and when they had the glasses, "Wait outside! I want, I call!" The maid shuffled out and carelessly banged the door closed.

Gornt said softly, "She'll have her ear hard against it."

Angelique laughed. "To hear secrets?

What secrets could there be between us? To a safe journey, Edward!" She sipped and put her glass down. "You're all packed?"

"Yes, yes I am. You look wonderful and I love you and would like an answer to my question."

Her fan slid open and she began using it as it should be used by a young lady of quality with an eligible man of quality--and ones of dubious reputation--to tantalize, flirt, to promise but not promise, to give answers, or avoid them, to questions that were dangerous to acknowledge openly.

The fan fluttered. "I admire you greatly, Edward."

"No more than I admire you. But a yes or a no?"

The fan snapped shut. Then she smiled and opened a box on the bureau, handed him an envelope. It was addressed: Mrs. Tess Struan. "Please read the letter. I am sending it by Hoag to Hong Kong in answer to hers."

Her handwriting was neat: Dear Mrs. Struan, Thank you for your letter, and generosity.

I agree to everything you requested: I solemnly swear and agree freely to relinquish all and any claims to your son's estate, I agree never again to use the title Mrs.Struan, I agree I am Catholic and was never married according to my Church, I agree never to set foot in Hong Kong except for transshipping, or will ever try to contact you and any of your family, I agree to remove myself from these premises within the week, and accept, with sincere thanks, the offer of a trust of Two Thousand Guineas a year until I am dead.

The space for her signature was blank and then below it: Verified as a true signature by Sir William Aylesbury, Minister Japan, and another space for his signature and date.

Gornt looked up. "You can't mean this. This gives her everything."

"Didn't you advise me to accept her conditions?"

"Yes, but to compromise--to renegotiate."

"Ah, yes, I remembered that. If you agree I'll ask Sir William to witness it now, before you leave. Dr. Hoag has promised to take it tonight on your ship, so it will be there when you arrive."

"But surely you know this yields everything--how can I, or anyone negotiate for you?"

"There's a second page." She took it out of the box, her fan slid open and began to move.

Gently.

Again he concentrated. The writing was not so clear and here and there smudged--could those be tear stains, he asked himself?

Dear Mrs. Struan, for obvious reasons this part must be separate as it is just between us, and no concern of Sir William. Again I thank you for your generosity. The kind offer of a third thousand if I remarry, or marry as you would say, within a year, I cannot accept because I do not intend to remarry or marry whichever you consider correct ...

Again he looked up at her startled. "Is this my answer?"

The fan fluttered. "Finish it," she said.

Now his eyes flashed down the page: Before God, I cannot avoid the belief I was married, though freely relinquish any public and legal pretension to that state as above. I will not take another... I do not wish to hurt or offend you but to marry again... no. It is my intention as soon as possible to settle in London, I feel more English than French, my mother tongue English rather than French, my aunt was my real mother.

I will never use the Mrs. title as I have agreed but I cannot stop others here referring to me as such. Sir William will not accept Angelique, or Angelique Richaud but insists that I sign as Mrs. Angelique Struan, nee Richaud, to make the above binding, for, according to him, and his understanding of English law, that is presently my legal name until I remarry.

"Has he said that?" he asked sharply.

"No, but Mr. Skye says if asked, he would have to agree."

"Ah." Gornt nodded thoughtfully, gulped some wine and went on reading, slower and more carefully: Should any of the above be unsatisfactory, please draw up what you further require, give it to Mr. Gornt who tells me he is going to see you again, then to return here almost immediately, and I will sign it. I commend him to you, he was a very good friend to your son, and has been kind to me--he advised me to accept your kind conditions as Mr. Skye was against. Sincerely yours...

Angelique.

Gornt sat back, exhaled and stared at her, awed. "It's marvelous. Marvelous. You agree to everything but still hold the sword of Damocles over her."