western tunes. Paper lanterns swayed unevenly in the tree branches, champagne corks popped, glasses clinked. Everyone was smiling, talking, laughing.
Eddie escorted April up the steps and across the wide Victorian veranda. Sir Claude MacDonald, the British minister, greeted them warmly and even embraced April, causing several of the ladies to frown in disapproval.
“April, my dear girl. I’m so pleased you could come on such short notice. Of course,” he added with a laugh, “I’m surprised anyone of us came on such short notice. The boys did a bang-up job, don’t you think?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. Sir Claude never waited for anyone. “You look enchanting; positively enchanting,” he said, offering his arm. “Come along and let me get you some refreshments. Mr. Wells can well look after himself.”
The crowd in the room parted, making an aisle for them. April saw the depreciative looks that she preferred to interpret as envy. She held herself aloof, unbending, reminding them all that she was of royal blood.
“I remember the first time I saw you, my girl, dressed like some ragged peasant.”
“A disguise,” April was quick to remind him.
“An American chap, I believe it was, who rescued you and your mother from an opium den or some such place. Wasn’t that it?”
“We were hiding from the Empress.” She looked up at him. “I always seem to be hiding from Her Imperial Highness.”
“Your mother?” Sir Claude asked. “She’s well?”
“We have both been rather remiss about corresponding. Last I heard she was in excellent health and her enterprises were thriving.”
“As beautiful as ever, I suspect. Beauty like hers and yours, my dear, always withstands the ravages of time.” He handed her a cup of punch. “A perfume factory, isn’t that your mother’s occupation now?”
“Empress Cosmetics, Products Fit for Royalty,” April proclaimed grandly, then laughed. “She has made a handsome fortune from what she refers to as her misadventures in China.”
Sir Claude rubbed the line of his jaw. “Yes, there was a bit of gossip about the bad blood between her and the old Dragon Empress.”
“Mother builds dynasties on bad blood,” April said, her voice bitter and hard. She saw him look surprised at her caustic remark and smiled sweetly. “I’d like for you to ask me to dance, if that is permitted.”
The old man laughed. “Like you, my dear, I was never very fond of conventions. Just like our Scottish lassies, you’ve got grit and spunk. I like that in a lass.” He took the punch cup from her hand. “If you are in a mood to dance with an old codger like me, then dance we shall, my girl.”
Eddie strolled through the crowd, watching them move off. Again an aisle opened up for him, as if the others feared contamination from this brash American who obviously preferred Chinese women to decent Occidentals like himself.
“Ah, Edward,” one of his friends from the American legation said, slapping Eddie on the back. “You’ve got more guts than I’ll ever have.” He moved his eyes toward April, dancing now with Sir Claude. “Look at the other men lifting up their noses and all the time we both know they’d give their eyeballs to bed her. What does that delicate little blossom see in the likes of you?”
Eddie grinned. “Because we are both delicate little blossoms from the same tree, Phillip.” He lifted his cup. “You just never took the time to learn what a sweet, innocent fellow I really am.”
His friend rolled his eyes. They both started to laugh.
CHAPTER FOUR
The cold rain started early Tuesday morning, just after dawn. April bundled Adam into his quilted coat and pulled the cap down over his ears. The boy’s eyes were bright with anticipation; his unmistakably American face looked eager and a bit defiant.
She glanced around. The room was suddenly a friend she was seeing for the last time, a friend who’d been true in its fashion, a friend she felt she shouldn’t leave. Perhaps she shouldn’t go.
She gave an impatient shrug as she finished packing Adam into his cocoon of clothes, reminding herself that she’d seen too much of these rooms. Besides, there was no time to stop and think, or worry about the dangers that might be waiting outside, or the fact that tomorrow might well never come for her.
With a swift sweep of her hand she gathered up her essentials. Adam first, and then the cloth bag of jewels and money, which she slipped into the lining of her coat.
Eddie had exacted his final payment last night and had told her to meet him at the storehouse next to the Marine barracks at seven o’clock. It was almost seven now. She picked up her reticule and without hesitating walked out, closing the door firmly behind her. This time she would make good her escape. She knew it.
“Are we going with the soldiers like Uncle Eddie said?” Adam asked, holding tight to April as they made their way out of the legation building.
“Yes, darling. Then when we reach the sea a ship is going to take us across the water to your grandmother’s big house in San Francisco.”
“Will she let us stay?”
“Of course she will.” At least I hope so, April said to herself, remembering the hard feelings that had existed when she abandoned everyone in Paris.
Under the command of a young lieutenant, a contingent of Marines, about twenty, were lining up in front of the arsenal when April noticed Eddie motioning to her from the doorway to the storehouse.
He hurried her inside where a soldier was hitching a team of horses to a canvas-covered caisson, attached to which was a small cannon.
“Inside with the both of you,” Eddie said cheerily. “I’ve thrown in some blankets and pillows to make the ride as comfortable as possible, but don’t expect luxury.”
“A munitions wagon?” April asked, hesitantly.
“A decoy. There aren’t any weapons or ammunition inside. The Marines are picking up a load in Shanghai. The cannon is just for effect. If the Chinese decide to harass us, seeing the cannon might give them pause to reconsider.”
He took Adam out of her arms and lifted him into the wagon. As he helped April in he said, “The caisson hasn’t any springs so I hope you two don’t get too knocked about.”
“Just so we get away.” She hugged him. “I’ll be only too happy to arrive black and bruised.”
“I’ll be riding alongside,” Eddie said as he pulled on his slicker and motioned to the soldier that they were ready to move out.
April settled herself and Adam in a mound of blankets and pillows as the wagon started off. Through the flap she watched the Marines in their ponchos step out briskly, seemingly ignorant of the icy rain that slashed at their faces.
When they started through the Tartar wall, passing the red stone lions that flanked the gateway, Eddie motioned to the open canvas flap. “Better close yourselves in until we are through the city. We wouldn’t want the old witch’s spies getting a look at you.”
April did as
