The China Bride

'Perhaps with your wing chun skill it would have been possible if I weren't chained to the wall. But it would take a good steel saw and several hours to free me of these, and we don't have either.'

'I'll steal the keys!'

He wanted to believe rescue was possible, but he couldn't fool himself. 'No, my dear girl. If there were one chance in ten-one in a hundred, even-I'd say try, but all you would achieve is your own death. I won't allow that.'

Her eyes flashed. 'How the devil would you stop me from trying?'

This time he did laugh. 'How fierce you are! But think of the dungeon, the guards, the archers, not to mention the walls around the yamen and the city, and the hundred miles of countryside between here and Canton. Can you honestly say there is a chance in hell of both of us escaping?'

Tears glimmered in her eyes. 'I can't leave you here! What… will become of me?'

He swore to himself. By getting himself killed, he was breaking the promise he'd made to see her safely to England.

What could be done? Dominic and his wife would help her, of course, and Gavin if he set up a London office, but they couldn't do everything for her that Kyle had intended. Unless…

'Troth,' he said urgently. 'Marry me.'

Chapter 26

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Her jaw dropped. 'Have you lost your wits?'

'Not at all. There's nothing that can be done to save my worthless Fan-qui life, but I want you to tell my family, Mei-Lian. They must know of my death. Leaving them to wonder for years would be cruel.' Especially for Dominic. Kyle had almost gone mad when his twin had been injured at Waterloo. Would his brother sense his death even before the news reached England? Perhaps-but he would deny that knowledge even to himself. For Dominic's sanity, he must be told as soon as possible.

'Of course I'll inform your family, but marriage is neither possible nor necessary.'

'Wrong on both counts. As my widow, you'll have an inheritance and the protection of the Renbourne family. It's the least I can do to make up for getting you into this mess. I know that in China widows aren't supposed to remarry, but in England remarriage is common. In fact, being a widow will be an advantage.' It would spare her questions about her lack of virginity when she found a real husband.

She frowned, perplexed. 'But how can we marry here, with no one to bear witness?'

'No witness is necessary.'

'Would that be legal?' she asked doubtfully.

'In Scotland all that's required is for two people to declare themselves married. Of course we're a long way from Scotland, but we're both half-Scottish, and I own property in the Highlands, so a good lawyer could certainly make the case that a marriage between us is valid. Since there is no reason for anyone to challenge the ceremony, it will be legal enough.' His voice dropped. 'Please, Troth. I wanted to do so much more for you, but I can't. My name is the only protection I have left to give.'

Her eyes squeezed shut, but couldn't prevent tears from sliding down her cheeks. 'It is a greater honor than I ever dreamed of, my lord. I will gladly be your wife, even if only for a few hours.'

He thought of his wedding to Constancia, performed by a Spanish priest as she lay dying. This time, he was the one who would end the marriage by death. He had no talent for being a husband. 'The honor is mine, my dear girl.'

'How do we marry ourselves?'

'Take both my hands.'

She stood on tiptoe and stretched her arms, which were just long enough so they could hold hands. The position flattened her across his body. Nice. 'One of the traditional forms of Scottish marriage calls for holding hands over running water,' he said wryly as the rivulet behind him flowed down the wall and between their feet. 'We've got that if nothing else.'

She bit her lip. 'How can you joke at such a time?'

'I'd rather you remembered me smiling. There will be time enough later for tears.' He interlaced their fingers. 'My dearest Troth Mei-Lian Montgomery, I pledge you my troth. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?'

She smiled up at him through her tears. 'I was named for my father's sister and grandmother. I always liked being called Troth.'

Hugh Montgomery must have seen into the future, for if ever a woman deserved her name, it was this one. Honest, loyal, and brave to the backbone. 'Now make your pledge to me, my dear.'

Voice trembling, she said, 'Kyle Renbourne, I pledge you my troth, to be my lord and husband as long as we both shall live.'

'You have the ring I gave you in Canton. It will do nicely for a wedding ring.'

She reached under her tunic, and after a moment extracted the golden Celtic knotwork band from one of the compartments of the money belt. She kissed it, then held it to his lips so he could do the same before she slipped it onto the third finger of her left hand, where it hung loosely. She pulled the ring off and returned it to the safety of her money belt. 'I don't want to lose it. I'll have it made smaller in Macao.' Nor was it safe for her to wear a piece of Western jewelry until she'd left China.

But the deed was done, and it seemed very right that a Scottish ring symbolize their union. 'Please kiss me, wife,' he said softly. 'We have a few minutes still, and I'd like to spend them with you holding me.'

Her mouth sought his with aching tenderness. Amazingly, desire flared, undimmed by the prospect of death. Or perhaps death sparked passion, a bright flame defying the oncoming dark.

She felt it, too. Her mouth trailed sweet kisses across his prickly, unshaven chin, then downward. ' I had not known a male body could be so beautiful, my lord husband,' she murmured, her breath warm in the hollow of his throat. 'No other man will ever bring me such pleasure.'

'Don't say that!' He caught his breath as she parted his slashed tunic and pressed her lips to each bruise and laceration. 'Mourn me for a while, but your life must not end because mine has. Search for love, because it's the most precious gift life offers.'

'Don't speak to me of other men, you fool! For now, there is only you.'

She tongued his nipple, the scalding pleasure obliterating his pains. Her hands slid downward, skimming his belly as she unfastened his damaged trousers. He closed his eyes, giving himself up to sensation as she stroked his heated flesh.

Then she took him in her mouth. He gave a choked cry, feeling as if he would burst from his skin. His hips began pulsing between her and the wall as passion coiled tighter and tighter. He couldn't bear for it to end, so he used the control he'd cultivated in the last weeks to stay on the knife edge of ecstasy. 'Christ, Mei-Lian,' he gasped, 'you will kill me with the sweetest of weapons, and God bless you for it.'

Sensing that his control was on the verge of fracturing, she straightened and stripped off her trousers, leaving him throbbing in the cool air for a moment. Then she locked one arm about his chest and wrapped a strong, supple leg around his hips. With her other hand she guided him into the liquid heat of her body. She made a slow tease of it with small movements that drew him in a fraction of an inch at a time.

When he could endure it no longer, he thrust away from the wall and buried himself fully inside her. The intimate clasp almost destroyed him, but she held absolutely still, her only movement the exquisite pulsing of her flesh around him.

She waited until she sensed that it was safe before she began tightening her internal muscles in a voluptuous rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart to the hammer of his. One spirit, one flesh. Her husband. Only passion existed, life so intense that it denied the future and the unbearable loss looming ahead.

'Troth,' he groaned, starting to pull back. 'Beautiful Willow.'