She readily agreed. It seemed as if he were softening, pleased with her affection. With a little more daughterly attention, he might agree to give her what she wanted. So they went together to the galley. She helped him sit when another coughing fit gripped him. And she heated more water for tea. The tea leavesweren’t even as good as what was served at the temple, but it was all she found. And she served it to him as if he were the emperor himself.
He patted her hand and drank, his fit easing the longer she sat with him. But eventually she grew impatient.
‘I want to honour you,’ she said, ‘for the kindness you have shown me. What do you need from me—’
‘Nothing, Lucy. You don’t have to serve me or pay me anything. That is not why I brought you out of China.’
‘But you want me to be happy, yes? And you want to be remembered and honoured. Grandchildren will do that for you. They are the greatest legacy of all.’ She took his hand and squeezed it. ‘That is what you want, isn’t it? A good legacy?’
He nodded slowly, his expression wary. ‘It is,’ he slowly acknowledged. ‘But I do not think you understand what that means.’
Maybe not, but she had a good guess. ‘I will give you grandchildren,’ she vowed. ‘Little boys who praise your name. Girls who will bring you honour. I can give you what you want—’
‘But only if I let you marry Lord Domac?’
She smiled. ‘He is who I want.’
‘And you mean to bargain with me for him. Give you the dowry he wants, and you shall marry him and live happily ever after. Yes?’
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
The finality of the word hit her heart. There was such firmness in it that she knew he hadn’t softened at all. Had she pushed too hard? Did he need something else?
‘Lucy, you think that you need a dowry to be valuable. You are enough of a treasure.’
‘But he needs the boat! He will not marry me without it.’ That much she’d already understood. He was a fortune-hunter, and so she needed a fortune.
‘Then he does not see that you are the treasure.’ Her father sighed. ‘And neither do you, apparently. Don’t you want to be loved?’
Fancy words, idealistic words. Words that she thought only children believed. And yet here was this aging Englishman who adopted foreign girls and spoke in such ignorance of the world.
‘I want a man who will not beat me. I want a man who lets me help him earn coin. And I want his children to love. Lord Domac will do that.’
‘Or any of a hundred others. Wait until you are in London. You will meet other good men there.’
‘Let Grace meet all the other men. Give me her dowry so I may have the man I choose.’
He shook his head. ‘Even his own family calls him inconsistent. He may truly love you now, but it will not last. I will not make it easy for him to marry either of you.’
‘But you have given Grace the dowry he wants.’
‘She knows her worth. If he earns her respect, then perhaps I will allow the marriage. But you still think you have to buy your future from everyone else.’
‘But he doesn’t want her! He wants me.’
‘I’m sorry, Lucy. You don’t know your own value yet, and until you do, no husband will make you happy.’
She rocked back on her heels, angry and frustrated to the point of clenching her hands into fists. She would not hit him. That would risk everything she had to no point. But she was angry and had no way to express it.
‘You don’t understand!’ she cried. ‘How can I find value when you give me nothing!’ It was a ridiculous statement. He had given her a way out of a country that reviled her. He had givenher food and clothing. Even now he promised to care for her in his home country. That was a safe life. It was a good life.
But it was not a life with Lord Domac. And that was what she wanted.
‘Grace does not want him!’ she cried.
‘Then maybe he will wait for you.’