Dear Future Husband

12. Do You Need Help?

1 May 1889

They landed in Hong Kong after more than two months of traveling. By that time, Maximilian had both gained his sea legs and become thoroughly fed up with the sight of blue ocean waves stretching endlessly around the ship. During their voyage, Lord Winthrop, sympathetic to Maximilian's situation, had spoken to the captain and allowed him to have a small cabin in the second class section of the RMS Etruria, free of charge. Grateful for and uncomfortable with the man's charity, Maximilian promised to make it up to him when they arrived in Hong Kong. He offered to run errands and do whatever menial tasks Lord Winthrop saw fit. However, instead of accepting the bowing and scraping that Maximilian had tried to emulate from what he'd seen in Edgar, Lord Winthrop had chuckled and said he would see about finding Maximilian a temporary position in one of his shipping companies if he did want to work.

The second-class cabin that Maximilian occupied was in fact already occupied by a boy a few years older than him. While the other boy was initially not enthusiastic about having to share his cabin-- he had the price of his ticket halved as compensation--he and Maximilian had formed a gradual friendship, which was perhaps hampered by the fact that his cabin mate spoke very accented English and Maximilian spoke no Chinese at all. The other boy was Lee Yi Fei, the son of a Chinese businessman in Hong Kong, whose father had sent him to be educated at Cambridge, in England. He was eighteen to Maximilian's almost fifteen, with a tall, lanky frame and a close-cropped head of black hair.

Maximilian had first addressed him as Lee before being informed that in Chinese, one's family name came before their Christian name. So, he called him Mr. Lee but as time passed, he began to revert to informally calling him by his surname. The other boy didn't mind, addressing him as Max.

"You still haven't finished packing?" Maximilian asked when he entered the cabin. To be fair, he had arrived with almost nothing but the clothes on his back, so it had taken him minutes to finish. Lee, however, was still neatly folding his clothes into a camphor-scented rosewood trunk, tucking them next to stacks of textbooks. "Do you need help?"

Lee waved a hand. "No, no, it is fine. Don't you have a girl to be chasing around?"

Ever since he'd discovered that Maximilian had an attachment with Rosalie, Lee had been frequently teasing him about their friendship. Maximilian adamantly maintained that it was not, however, an understanding. First of all, because they were far too young for such a thing. Second of all... her father had been one of the clients at Wakefield and Sons. Maximilian had worked for the earl. He would be considered too low class, too shabby, too impoverished, no matter how high he rose in society, to ask for Rosalie's hand. It was impossible for him to even consider such a thing, and he'd explained as much to Lee.

"Well, if you do not require my assistance..." Maximilian jumped off of the small bed in the cramped cabin, his possessions tucked under one arm. "Then I shall hopefully see you again, at a later time."

Lee nodded and pulled a card from the pocket of his trousers. "If you need anything in Hong Kong, this is my father's company."

Maximilian took the small sheet of card stock and tucked it in with the rest of his belongings. "Thank you, Lee. Adieu."

Lee echoed his sentiments, and then Maximilian exited the cabin, shutting the door behind him. He dashed up the stairs and toward the section of the ship where Rosalie and her father were staying. The RMS Etruria had docked that morning and would be letting off the first-class passengers in three hours. In the meantime, Maximilian would take Lord Winthrop up on his offer of a job, and he would breakfast with Rosalie under the watchful eye of her governess, Miss Wilson. As he neared the fancier, more ornate door, with its gilt and carved curlicues, he overheard a conversation, with raised voices. It was Lord Winthrop and another man, whose voice was unfamiliar to Maximilian's ears.

"What are you suggesting I do?" Lord Winthrop sounded tired.

The other man spoke in harsh tones. "Edgar Wakefield is a well-respected businessman. He and his brother have filed reports that you had their apprentice kidnapped. Do you realize how badly this would reflect on you and your bid for Parliament, my lord?"

His heart rose in his chest, wondering if Lord Winthrop would defend him.

"Edgar Wakefield is, pardon my language, a vile drunkard who might as well have sold his brother's apprentice to a corrupt naval captain in exchange for twenty pieces of silver," Lord Winthrop said, his voice rising in disdain. "I cannot forgive his twisting of the truth to suit his own narrative."

Maximilian's heart sank into its proper position when he heard Lord Winthrop's condemnation of Edgar.

"This Captain Hayes whom you speak of has disappeared, my lord," the stranger, who must have been a servant, said. "His ship sank in the West Indies a week ago, according to a telegram. It is your word against Edgar Wakefield's, and you realize your wife's disappearance all those years ago is being dredged up once more..."

"Do not mention Cornelia to me ever again," Lord Winthrop said, his voice going cold. It chilled his blood to hear it; he had never seen Lord Winthrop as capable of hurting a fly, but that was clearly not the case. "I will not have any more of this conversation..."

Maximilian stepped away from the door, unable to bear any more eavesdropping. No wonder the nuns had always told them to eavesdrop. Maximilian shook his head, rubbing his hands over the goosebumps on his arms. He was the source of Lord Winthrop's problems. And the man had treated him too well for Maximilian to allow him to suffer on his account. If he left, Lord Winthrop would not have to deal with him. He would not have to burden him anymore.

So, with one last glance toward the Winthrops' door, he did his very best not to think about Rosalie's golden curls or her bell-like laugh as he trudged back to where he belonged: the lower-class cabins.

Waves crashed and roared in his ears, the stench of fish rising stagnant off of the cobblestones. The hot August sun pounded down on Maximilian's shoulders. He wished for a conical hat like the coolies were wearing as they hauled luggage off the docks and shouted in a foreign language. Dodging a heavy trunk that swung over his head, Maximilian clutched the card that Lee had given him. His friend had disappeared, but he would find him. He had to. He had escaped England and the clutches of Edgar, but he would have to survive these foreign streets now.

"There you are!" Lee called, waving wildly as his trunk was carried by a coolie a few steps behind him. He motioned for Max to come over. "Did the earl's offer fall through?"

Maximilian nodded, wanting to forget it. He wanted to forget that he had ever met Lord Winthrop or his daughter. Bodies bumped and jostled into them, and Lee firmly withstood the bustle of the crowd in the way that one only could, when they were at home in a place and confident of their place in the world. Maximilian had never felt that way.

"Come on, I'll hail us a rickshaw," Lee said, whistling as a young, wiry man ran up to them, his body bronzed and lean, hands clutching the strange-looking vehicle behind him. It did not run with the use of horses, but rather... It seemed that the man himself would be providing the power needed to work the vehicle. "I can send word ahead to my father."

"Thank you," Maximilian finally said. "I appreciate it a great deal, my friend."

Lee nodded. Neither of them needed to say anything more sentimental, as the rickshaw driver took off, transporting them all the way to Lee's father's house. Maximilian, watched, speechless, as the surroundings flew by. Little market stalls with piping hot food, vendors selling bolts of colourful silk, and people going about their everyday business. Now and then, Lee would answer Maximilian's questions or pepper him with information about the unique features of the island city, but for the most part, they sat in silence.

The rickshaw driver let them off, and they dismounted. Lee tipped him heartily. "We have arrived."

Maximilian stared at the dragons carved on the doors of Lee's home and wondered if he had made the right decision, after all.