Chapter 1478 - Boudoir

Hale pulled back his hood and shed his priestly garb. He picked up the Derringer and examined it meticulously, turning it this way and that. Soon he opened the hinged barrel, studied the chamber, then snapped it closed. He cocked the hammer and dry-fired repeatedly, listening carefully to the soft click of the firing pin popping out under ratchet control.

The Baroness noticed a note resting in the box—scrawled handwriting, evidently penned in haste. She picked it up and read aloud: "To the Rose of Manila, Baroness Ciarlo. From a devout soldier, Vincenzo Lando Vannanova."

"A man facing a duel in a matter of hours, yet he finds time to compensate you for the damage to your husband's armor." Hale set down the pistol and began fiddling with the accompanying ammunition: pea-sized spherical bullets integrated with percussion caps by paper casings. "Smoothbore," he grunted. "Flashy little thing. Still, far more useful than your husband's armor ever was."

"At least quite suitable for hunting parrots and sparrows in the fields—preventing them from stealing my corn."

"Stop prattling about your corn." Lucrezia stretched languidly, indifferent to her alluring breasts trembling above the splashing water. "I've already written to the steward on my estate. Except for the fields planted with cloves and nutmeg, half the remaining land goes to corn and the other half to sweet potatoes. And yes, I've also instructed them to prepare new sugarcane plantations. Ciarlo's armor means nothing to me—it was only ever a decoration. Put it from your mind."

"Did you purchase the goods I requested in your letter from Macau?"

"Don't remind me of the Australian goods you wanted—most were out of stock. Apart from rice vermicelli and strong liquor, which I bought in full, I could only get a third of the soap quantity. The rest fell even further short."

"And the instruments?"

"Only some of them. Certain items they refused to sell outright. But my servants can be very persuasive—they acquired them."

"You are truly my lucky star."

"Save your sweet flattery. I really don't understand—what do you want all these peculiar things for? And why so much rice vermicelli? Does Philippine rice not fill your men's bellies?"

"Of course, it is all in service to His Majesty the King and His Excellency the Governor."

A look of disapproval crossed the Baroness's face. As a Portuguese noblewoman, she harbored no reverence for the Spanish-Portuguese crown—to say nothing of the commercial hostility simmering between merchants of the two nations throughout Southeast Asia.

"Only by this means," Hale said, kissing her naked shoulder, "can I better serve the Baroness."

The widow smiled charmingly and whispered, "You are truly a devil." Then her tone shifted. "Tell me—who will win the duel? Vannanova or Sanabria? Whom do you favor?"

"Is this a wager?" Hale set down the pistol and bullets, closed the wooden box, and allowed himself a rare smile. "What are the stakes?"

"One gold coin," Lucrezia answered casually. Then her voice turned cold: "I bet the Count kills that liar—he deserves to die. From Goa to Macau, people everywhere tell me Sanabria swindled them with forged promissory notes from the Seville Chamber of Commerce and worthless Genoese bonds. My father's friends in Lisbon have filed charges in Madrid, but the result will certainly not be what they hope."

She did not elaborate on the source of her concern—just as few knew the true origins of her vast fortune. It was not solely because her late husband had received a Philippine land grant and purchased large tracts to cultivate spices, nor because she owned several purchase-and-sales permits for the Manila Galleons, entitling her to legally ship Oriental goods to Acapulco annually. In truth, her Portuguese origins and Jesuit connections meant that the Santa Casa de Misericordia she presided over in Manila commanded widespread support from Portuguese merchants across the Far East. Moreover, her lending rates were relatively low. In just a few years she had attracted business from many local Spanish merchants and converted East Indian maritime traders alike. Naturally, this sparked jealousy and resentment among Manila's other charitable fund groups—especially the city's oldest, the Misericordia Brotherhood. Sanabria was its only non-clerical director. Don Esteban Sanabria had done much behind the scenes to poach business from the Baroness.

"A pistole, then?" Hale drew a gold coin from his coat and placed it in Lucrezia's palm. At first glance, she noticed something different about it. Size, weight, and texture matched any other pistole; the material was certainly gold. But its shape was remarkably regular, its edges smooth without the burrs common to minted coins. Both faces were more polished and fluid than ordinary currency, the patterns unusually crisp.

"Exquisite! You made this?"

"Cast several blanks from the first batch of placer gold sent from Baguio. On the Governor's instructions, I struck a few for him in the workshop using the rolling mill and screw press we have for making brass parts. The German watchmaker in my employ spent a week engraving the die. Quite by chance, just yesterday His Excellency the Governor came personally to the workshop to supervise the work. He was astonished to watch our machine forge twenty coins in the time a Mexican mint craftsman would take to cast one."

"The Governor intends to open a mint? Here in Manila?" The Baroness tossed the pistole aside, selected a bottle of rose oil from the assortment of large and small bottles on the low table, and signaled Hale to apply it to her neck and shoulders. "Will the King and the Council of the Indies agree?"

"My dear protector," he obeyed, whispering in her ear as he worked, "this plan depends upon you and your friends to champion. You will silence the colonial judges and officials who would obstruct it. I assure you—not only the Governor but even Archbishop Lorenzo approves. Whether His Majesty the King, the Council of the Indies, or the Viceroy of New Spain, all would be delighted to see an end to the need for financial subsidies flowing to the Philippines."

Due to a lack of coinage materials and Spanish indolence, the Philippine colony had never possessed a mint. Whatever currency the colony required—precious metal currency—arrived from New Spain; base metal currency was supplied by Chinese merchants. This dearth of exportable products and absence of native coinage left the Manila colonial authorities economically exploited: silver coins from New Spain passed through Spanish hands only to fill the pockets of Chinese merchants, while the Philippines remained mired in chronic deflation.

"The mood of the King of Spain and his finance ministers has nothing to do with me..."

"It will if you become the mint contractor."

"You're mad. Such a benefit won't fall into my hands—"

"I guarantee you will obtain the Governor's authorization. Think of the profits involved. And if you secure the contract, we haven't even begun to calculate the ancillary benefits." His fingers slid over delicate skin.

The rich widow let out low pants. The difference between face value and intrinsic value represented an enormous profit—a temptation the Baroness could not resist.

"How much would I have to invest?"

According to the traditional practice in many medieval societies, the state bore no expense for minting; it adopted an "all-inclusive" model. The contractor needed only to deliver currency of specified purity and quantity per the contract; the rest was profit or loss to be borne alone. Securing a mint contract required substantial startup capital—buildings, equipment, workers, coinage materials, and fuel.

"Twelve thousand pesos, not counting raw materials."

"Not cheap." The Baroness fell into deep thought. The sum was within her means, but raising so much cash in the short term would require considerable maneuvering. Earlier, she had been one of the major shareholders in organizing the Baguio Company to explore and mine gold. Exploration and extraction had consumed a large amount of money, leaving her finances stretched.

The Baroness had always been Hale's greatest financial backer. It was thanks to this passionate, wealthy widow that his enterprise had advanced so smoothly. Even after becoming a legendary figure in the colony, his proposed Baguio exploration plan had met widespread skepticism. Apart from the Governor—who provided a small squad of soldiers and two ships in exchange for a fifth of the profits—all of Manila sneered at the scheme as "whimsical." The venture succeeded entirely because of the Baroness's funding.

"If everything proceeds smoothly, you will recover your entire investment within the first year."

"And the Governor and his friends?"

"All included."

"You are truly a devil," the lady said, her voice full of affection. "Do you know how much money I have spent on you since you arrived in Manila? First you wanted me to invest in water mills, then sugar presses, then gold mining. Now you want me to grow corn and sweet potatoes and act as a mint contractor..."

"Each time, was it not value for money?"

Hale's fingers were rough but dexterous. His forceful massage and kneading left flushed marks on the Baroness's fair skin. As his hands moved over her shoulders and descended deeper, Lucrezia's breathing grew heavier. "What else?" She struggled to keep her mind clear.

"There is a second matter. Please introduce me to Count Vannanova. I wish to meet him—provided he survives the duel. I am quite confident he will. As for the third thing, that is—" Hale bent suddenly, scooped the hostess from the bathtub. Lucrezia let out a moan-like cry, hooked her arms tightly around his neck, and let him carry her toward the great bed at the far end of the bedchamber.

(End of Chapter)