The China Bride

by Mary Jo Putney

  She’d known him in Canton, but she wasn’t yet ready to discuss that part of her life. “My father mentioned Logan sometimes, but my mother and I never met Papa’s business associates.” Except for Chenqua, who would sometimes visit Li-Yin and gravely present small gifts to Troth.

  “A cèilidh it is then.” Mairead glanced at her son and daughter-in-law. “Surely Troth should stay here while she’s in Melrose. The attic room the girls used is a wee cozy place. Would ye like that?”

  “I’d love it!” Troth exclaimed, her heart brimming with happiness.

  Mairead made a shooing motion at her son and Kyle. “Then off with ye. James, go tell yer sisters the news. Jean and I need to talk to our lass.”

  Troth looked at Kyle with such shining happiness that it made his heart ache. She had gazed at him like that in the beginning.

  Guessing what Troth’s grandmother had in mind, Kyle wasn’t surprised when James paused to light a clay pipe outside in the lane, then said, “I don’t believe you’ve mentioned your relationship to my niece, Mr. Maxwell. Are you betrothed?”

  “We’re friends.” Kyle weighed what version of the truth would be best. “Like Troth, I’m half-Scot, so to help her leave China, I suggested we handfast. The legality is arguable, but the year and a day will be over soon, so she’ll be free.”

  And when that happened, he suspected that she’d settle in Melrose forever, enfolded in the warmth of the family she’d always yearned for. He was happy for her—who could have seen her radiant face and not been glad?—but bleakly recognized that now that she had a family and a modest fortune, she no longer had any need for him.

  Schoolmasters by their nature were very good at spotting lies and evasions. “There’s a lot you’re not saying, lad,” James said shrewdly. “Are you intending to marry properly? You seem to be a good deal more than friends.”

  “She saved my life in China. I was presumed dead, and returned to England some months later than she. We’re now trying to decide if we want to be really married.”

  “But you’re willing to do the honorable thing?”

  “I’m willing. She has doubts, justifiable ones.” Responding to James’s questioning gaze, Kyle added, “I’m no libertine, if that’s what you’re wondering, but it’s Lord Maxwell, not Mr. Maxwell. I’m heir to the Earl of Wrexham, and Troth isn’t sure she’d fit into my world. Or if she’d even want to try.”

  “She has her father’s good sense, as well as his generosity. It’s like a miracle to see her here.” James puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. “If she decides to marry you, at least she doesna have to worry that you’re after her fortune, since it was obviously as much a surprise to you as it was to her.”

  “A surprise, but a good one. No matter what happens, Troth has enough money to secure her future. I’ve no need for her inheritance, though. My own is larger than any sane man would want.”

  The older man looked at him shrewdly. “So you’ve learned that money is as much curse as blessing. That’s why we did little with Hugh’s legacy. I’d rather have my sons be doctors and teachers than dissolute fops.” He waved his pipe at the next cottage. “My sister Annie’s place. She has three daughters, so be prepared for screaming when I break the news. It’s not every day one acquires a fascinating new cousin.”

  Nor was it every day that one lost a fascinating woman—but Kyle could feel it happening, inch by agonizing inch.

  Chapter 40

  The Montgomerys put on a cèilidh to remember. It took place in the assembly room attached to the inn and featured mountains of food, rivers of drink, a gaggle of musicians, and what appeared to be half the population of Berwickshire.

  As guest of honor, Troth was in constant demand for dancing and conversation. Kyle watched her from a quiet corner on the fringes of the celebration. This was her night, and she deserved to enjoy every minute of it. Face flushed and hair flying, she was beautiful. Wisely, she’d chosen one of her less elaborate gowns so she wouldn’t be overdressed for the occasion, and with her athletic grace she’d picked up the exuberant, foot-stamping reels with no problem.

  She looked as if she had been born for this place and these people. In fact, she had been. It had just taken her a long time to find her way home.

  Since she’d moved from the inn to her grandmother’s house, Kyle had seen less of her, and that always in company. He’d hoped for more from this courtship. But perhaps that was for the best. He was coming to terms with the bitter fact that he needed her while she really had no need for him.

  Two middle-aged women who’d been crossing the hall came to a stop in front of him. One said, her gaze on Troth, “Seems a nice girl, but verra foreign-looking.”

  “The Montgomerys don’t seem to mind,” the other said. “Though I certainly wouldna want my son to marry her.”

  “Even though they say she’s heir to a fine fortune?”

  “Och, I’d be a terrible mother to stand in the way of my son’s happiness,” the other said mockingly.

  Kyle was tempted to confront the two women, but neither Troth nor her family would welcome his creating a scene in the middle of the cèilidh, so he moved away. Though the Montgomerys had welcomed their prodigal granddaughter, some of the locals were more critical.

  “Maxwell! Will ye have a wee dram with me?”

  He turned to see Caleb Logan, the China trader down from Edinburgh, approaching with a bottle and a couple of small glasses. Though Kyle had run into him regularly in Canton, he hadn’t realized that Logan had once been Hugh Montgomery’s partner, or he would have done some quiet probing to learn more about what Troth’s father had been like.

  “Let’s drink to Scotland, and the most unusual lassie in the Borders!” Logan said jovially as he handed over a glass of clear amber whiskey.

  “To Scotland and Troth Montgomery.” Kyle tossed back the fierce spirits, glad he hadn’t had much to drink so far this evening. Logan was one of the more successful traders in Canton, and typical of his breed: shrewd, pragmatic, and determined to make a fortune large enough to allow him to retire to Scotland in grand style. “Good to see you again. How was your voyage home from China?”

  “Fine indeed. I traveled with a cargo of best Bohea tea, and sold it at a premium price.” Logan swallowed his dram and poured another. “Hugh would be glad to know his daughter has come home to Scotland.”

  “When Montgomery died in the shipwreck, was there any thought of sending Troth back to his family?” Kyle asked curiously.

  Logan shook his head. “Not that I know of. He kept her and her mother very private. Even I never saw her, though Hugh and I worked together daily when I first went out East. After Hugh drowned, Chenqua told me the girl was going to live with Chinese relations, which seemed reasonable enough. No point in uprooting the lass and sending her halfway around the world if she had family nearby.”

  Chenqua had said Troth had Chinese relatives? That was strange. Li-Yin had come from the north, and had no communication with her family after she was sold as a concubine.

  An uneasy thought struck him. Might Chenqua have told Logan that Troth had family so he could keep Troth’s linguistic skills for his own use? Kyle disliked the idea that Chenqua might have turned Troth into a virtual slave for purely selfish reasons. Of course, from Chenqua’s point of view, he might have been doing Troth a favor by offering a worthless mixed-blood girl-child a chance to be useful. “It must have been hard on your business when Montgomery and his ship went down.”

  “Aye, it took a lot of hard work, juggling of finances, and cooperation from Chenqua to stave off bankruptcy. By the next year, though, things were looking better, and I’ve done well enough since.”

  Remembering what Gavin had said, Kyle remarked, “In Canton, I heard hints of some kind of scandal about Montgomery. Why was that?”

  Logan gave him a hard look. “There’s no point in speaking ill of the dead.”

  “Did Montgomery do something that bad?”

  Logan made a negative gestu
re with his glass. “Don’t be thinking Hugh was a criminal. He was a damned good fellow in most ways. But…maybe a bit of a hypocrite.”

  Had Montgomery dealt in opium even as he preached against it? Or was there some other old scandal? Logan was right—there was no point in unearthing old tales, especially ones that might hurt Troth. He hoped she’d never heard any of the China traders disparaging her father. Changing the subject, he asked, “Do you have a family here in Scotland?”

  “Aye. My wife went out with me to Macao at the beginning, but she hated the climate, and after we had a couple of bairns, she decided to come home for fear of the fever and illnesses there. That’s why I come back regularly—to remind my family who their lord and master is.” He chuckled. “Of course, when I’m here I miss my China girl, but there will be a fine welcome waiting when I return to Macao.” His gaze rested on Troth. “There’s something about Chinese women that European females can’t match.”

  “Perhaps you should have brought your concubine along for your amusement,” Kyle said dryly.

  “I considered it, but all hell would have broken loose. By the way, what’s this I hear about you and Hugh’s daughter? Some say you’re married, some not.”

  Kyle pulled out the official story once more. “We just performed a nominal handfast to help her come to Britain. The term of that will end soon.”

  “Och, that makes sense. She’s a bonnie lass for sure, but a man in your position obviously couldn’t marry her for real.”

  If Logan had made a comment implying that Kyle had done the handfast so he could sleep with Troth, then discard her, Kyle would have broken the whiskey bottle over the other man’s head. Luckily, Logan had too much sense for that. Instead, he slanted a crafty glance toward Kyle. “I had some of Elliott House’s Earl’s Blend Tea. Fine stuff. Should do well. What’s in it?”

  Kyle smiled. “I may not be a real trader, but I know better than to answer that.”

  “It was worth a try. No matter, give me some time and I’ll figure out the blend,” Logan said, unabashed. “All’s fair in love, war, and business.”

  “When do you return to China?”

  “July, so I can reach Canton just as the new trading season opens. I wanted to spend spring in Scotland. I miss the summers, though not the winters. I hear you and your handfast bride are going to be taking a trip up to the Highlands?”

  “We’re leaving the day after tomorrow for Kinnockburn, north of Stirling. My mother was a Highlander, and she left some property there.”

  “Be sure to take Hugh’s daughter to Castle Doom on the way. That will give her a rare view of the Highlands. No doubt you’ve been there?”

  Castle Doom was the nickname of a ruined fortress on top of a ferociously steep hill, and it had some of the grandest views in central Scotland. “It’s been years since I visited the place, but you’re right, Troth would enjoy it very much. We’ll stop on the way to Kinnockburn.”

  He was determined to make her journey a memorable one, because he suspected that it would be his last chance to win Troth’s heart.

  So exhilarated that she discarded caution, Troth skipped over to Kyle and caught his hands. “Come, my lord. I swear you’re the only man here I haven’t danced with yet.”

  “You haven’t danced with me,” Caleb Logan said, his eyes gleaming with discreet lust. He was one of those men who was stimulated by the thought of mounting exotic women, Troth suspected.

  Face straight, Kyle said, “Troth Montgomery, meet Caleb Logan, who was once your father’s partner.”

  “Good evening, Mr. Logan.” Troth curtsied gracefully, as if she hadn’t seen him often in Canton. But Logan had obviously not made the connection between the interpreter Jin Kang and his old partner’s daughter, and she wasn’t about to enlighten him. “I heard of you from my father, of course, though it’s been many years.”

  “What did he say?” Logan asked curiously.

  “That you showed great promise, and you’d end up a rich man.”

  Logan laughed. “Hugh must have had a bit of the second sight.”

  While the trader was still chuckling, Troth detached Kyle and led him onto the floor as the dance music was starting. “I hope you haven’t drunk so much whiskey you’ll fall flat on the floor.”

  He smiled at her wickedly. “I’m enough of a Scot to dance best when I’ve had a wee dram or two or three.”

  It was the truth, too. He danced the old Scottish reels with passion, swift, sure footwork, and a clasp that dizzied her with his nearness when it was time to whirl her around. Damning the consequences, she gave herself up to the magic of the moment, for dancing was the closest thing to making love that she dared do with him.

  When the reel was done, he took her arm and steered her to the table where cool, tart lemonade was being dispensed. As they sipped their drinks, he asked, “Have you been doing your chi exercises? I came by the Montgomerys’ garden the last couple of mornings, but didn’t see you.”

  “I’m afraid not. My grandmother and aunt have been keeping me too busy. I had no idea that so many cousins existed in the world,” she said guiltily, knowing she could have found time if she’d wanted. But this early in her acquaintance with her father’s family, she didn’t want to do anything as strange as wing chun in the garden. Though they’d accepted Troth Montgomery without reservation, she’d wait a bit before introducing them to Mei-Lian. “Wouldn’t Mairead make a wonderful tai-tai?”

  Kyle laughed. “I think she already is.”

  James Montgomery leaped onto a chair and called out, “Now that we’re all here and merry, I’d like to propose a toast, so if ye havena a glass in yer hand, get one!”

  After everyone complied, James raised his glass to Troth. “’Tis blithe to meet, woe to part, and blithe to meet once more. May the sun always shine upon ye, niece, for ye’ve brought my brother home.”

  Tears in her eyes, Troth clutched her lemonade as everyone drank to her. She wanted to say something in return, but her throat had closed up.

  Then Kyle said in a voice that carried to all corners of the room, “And here’s to the Montgomerys of Melrose, who have proved that there is no hospitality in the world to match that of Scotland.”

  Everyone drank to that gladly. Troth’s tears almost spilled over as Kyle gave her an intimate smile. No one else in the world could understand what tonight meant to her.

  A wild skirling pierced the conversation, transfixing everyone in the room. “The piper’s come! Aye, the piper’s here!”

  As people flooded out into the courtyard, Kyle kept an arm around Troth to keep her from being squashed. He always made her feel so safe when there was physical threat. It was emotional situations that made her wary.

  Wind-tossed torches in the courtyard illuminated the approach of a Highland piper in full regalia, kilt swinging and bagpipes wailing to set the hair on a man’s neck straight up. Troth watched, rapt. No wonder soldiers would follow a piper to hell and back.

  She also understood why the pipes were played outdoors—the sound would be shattering inside. When the first tune ended and the crowd was applauding, she asked Kyle quietly, “I thought pipes were more from the Highlands?”

  “Yes, but all Scots mourned when Highland dress and customs were suppressed after the Forty-Five uprising. Now that kilts and pipes are legal again, they’re welcome everywhere in Scotland, especially since the Highland regiments won such honor fighting Napoleon. He called the Highlanders ‘devils in skirts.’ ”

  James Montgomery emerged from the crowd with a pair of swords and ceremoniously crossed them on the ground, then announced, “My sister Annie’s husband, who fought with the Gordon Highlanders at Waterloo, will do a sword dance.”

  Troth had met Tam Gordon, a slight, quiet uncle by marriage, but hadn’t known of his military past. The piper began to play and Tam stepped forward. His feet moving with dazzling agility, he danced around the swords, his arms raised and exultation on his face.

  Kyle said in her ear,
“It was considered an omen of victory the next day if the dance could be done without touching one of the swords.”

  “Can you do the sword dance?”

  “I learned it as a boy, but one must wear a kilt to do it properly. Trousers are too tight for true Highland dancing.” He placed a warm hand on her shoulder. “Dominic is fond enough of Scotland, but it never spoke to him as strongly as it did me. Perhaps it was because I was given a Scottish name and he wasn’t.”

  Troth had a brief, dizzying image of Kyle in full Highland dress. He’d be a sight to send any female heart into palpitations. Her skin prickled as she remembered their lovemaking among the apple trees of Dornleigh. For a brief time there, minds and doubts had not come between them….

  Sword dance finished, the piper began to play a reel. As couples formed, Kyle caught Troth around the waist and swung her into the music. “It would take a heart of stone not to feel like a Scot tonight.”

  “And my heart isn’t stone, my lord!” Laughing, she surrendered to his lead, her skirts swinging and her hair spilling loose as they danced with the fierce freedom their ancestors had known. Under the black sky and flaring torches, she forgot past and present, forgot everything except the wild wail of the pipes and the man whose masterful hands and strong body warmed the night and ignited all her senses.

  She tried to remember the good reasons for not lying with him again. But pain and pride seemed distant and unreal, while the call of the blood was hot and urgent and infinitely more compelling.

  Perhaps on their journey to the Highlands they could have one last fling—and the devil take the consequences.

  Chapter 41

  Despite her late night at the cèilidh, Troth rose early enough the next morning to creep from the cottage and do her chi and wing chun routines. She half hoped that Kyle would come, but he didn’t. He must have given up on her.

  After the previous night’s vigorous dancing, her muscles welcomed the gentler chi exercises. It was chilly, though. Even this far into spring, Scotland in the early morning was bracing. Not the best part of the world for outdoor exercise. Nonetheless, the familiar movements warmed and soothed her.