silver-haired angel. She was even wearing shoes.
The service ended. Voices softer and smiles warmer than usual, the worshipers left the church to return to their homes. Carriages waited for the Warfield party, but when Troth saw that a light snow was frosting the hills, she said, 'I'll walk back. It's not far, and the night is so pretty.'
To her surprise, Dominic said, 'I'll join you, if you don't object.'
'Of course not.' She took his arm, and they made their way to the footpath that led to the estate, traveling half the distance that the carriage road did. As always, she found bittersweet pleasure in Dominic's company. Though she tried not to think of Kyle, in the snowy night it was impossible not to dream of what had never been.
They were halfway to Warfield when Dominic said quietly, 'The holiday makes everything worse. I keep thinking that last year at this time, Kyle was alive. He spent Christmas in India, and wrote me that he missed having a proper English celebration. He… he promised he'd be here for Christmas with the family this year.'
'He was looking forward to coming home and seeing you all.' Troth's fingers tightened on Dominic's arm as she recognized why he'd wanted her company. As the only person at Warfield to have seen Kyle in seven years, her presence brought him a little closer to Dominic. 'Strange to think that a year ago, I hadn't even met Kyle. How could such a short acquaintanceship make such a difference?'
Dominic smiled a little. 'Meriel turned my world inside out in a matter of days. Love does that.' His smile faded. 'In my heart, I still can't quite believe Kyle is dead. Sometimes at night I feel like I could reach out and touch him. He doesn't seem gone, but there's an… an ache in my spirit when I try to find him.'
She understood that ache well. 'Perhaps that's proof that the spirit survives death. Somewhere he still exists, feeling sadness for what he has left behind.'
Dominic glanced at her. 'Do you really believe that?'
She sighed. 'I want to.'
They came to a stile. Dominic climbed over, then gave her his hand to help her across. Knowing him had helped her understand Kyle's gentlemanly manners, and why it had chafed him not to treat her with the gallantry he thought a woman deserved. She'd loved those occasions when Kyle had cared for her as if she were precious porcelain. Such a lovely contrast to the masculine life she'd lived for too long.
Her skirts brushed snow from the stile as she stepped down to the ground. Only a fluffy inch or so had fallen- just enough to change the wintry hills to fairyland. 'Kyle said that if you didn't believe I was his wife, I should ask you about the time you were trapped in the Dornleigh priest hole. You never doubted. Surely it must have occurred to you that I was an impostor.'
'Never.' Dominic took her arm again as they approached an icy stretch of path. 'Your love for him was unmistakable. No impostor could have shown that.'
Troth blinked against stinging eyes. Had she been so transparent? She wondered if Kyle had known how she felt about him. At the time she had tried desperately to conceal her unseemly emotions. He'd wanted a guide and a mistress, not a lovesick woman. She'd used all her carefully honed skills of deception to show him the face he wanted to see.
Now that it was too late, she bitterly wished she had told the truth.
BOOK II.
Chapter 28
Macao, China
Spring 1832
Bleakly Troth slipped unchallenged from Feng-tang and made her way across country, keeping to narrow roads and the smallest villages, sleeping rough to avoid attention. Her one ambition was not to be identified as the
Not daring to travel through Canton, where she might be recognized, she circled west and walked the extra eighty miles to Macao, using fatigue to numb her grief. It was a blessed relief when finally a fishing boat carried her the last stretch across the channel to the island city that was the only place in China where Europeans could live.
She felt a poignant sense of homecoming as she walked along the Praya Grande. Macao was home in a way that Canton had never been. On the streets were people of every race known to man, and mixed-blood faces that resembled her own. Her life would have been very different if she'd been taken in by a Macanese merchant rather than Chenqua after her father's death. Perhaps she'd be married and have children now.
But she never would have known Kyle, and instead of a happy marriage, she might have been forced into prostitution and an early death. Best not to question fate. She found a quiet corner and took Kyle's ring from the money belt, sliding it onto her left hand and clenching her fingers to ensure that it wouldn't slip off. Her wedding ring.
A few inquiries took her up the hill to Gavin Elliott's residence. It was close to the house she'd been born in, with a similar wide veranda and spectacular views over the city and the Pearl River. Praying that Elliott hadn't left Macao on a trading voyage, she rang the bell.
The porter who answered took one look at her ragged, filthy garments and said, 'Begone, boy. We'll have no beggars here.'
She caught her breath as she recognized the old man who had been her father's porter. Since he had some understanding of English and Portuguese, it wasn't surprising to find him in another European household. Taking off her tattered straw hat, she said, 'That's a poor sort of greeting, old Peng.'
His jaw dropped. 'Miss Mei-Lian?'
'Indeed.' She moved past him into the house as if she were still the young mistress. 'Is the Honorable Elliott in residence? I must speak to him.'
Peng bobbed his head. 'Aye, you're in luck. Another two days and he'll be off to Singapore. I'll tell him you're here.'
'Announce me as Jin Kang. That is how he knows me.'
Peng raised his brows at the masculine name, but went off obediently. Within a minute Gavin Elliott raced down the steps three at a time. 'Thank God you're back, Jin! You're weeks overdue. Where is Maxwell?'
Throat tight, Troth gestured him into the drawing room and shut the door so they had privacy. ' Lord Maxwell is dead.'
Elliott's face paled. 'Dear God in heaven. I had a bad feeling about the trip, but I'd convinced myself I was worrying unnecessarily.' He stalked to a window and stared out, his hands clenched tightly behind him. 'What happened?'
Voice faltering, she described how Kyle's identity had been accidentally revealed, and his arrest and execution. Saying the words out loud for the first time made his death seem real in a way it hadn't before. This was not a bad dream she would wake from.
'At least… it was quick.' Elliott muttered a blistering oath. 'So bloody unnecessary! I don't think Maxwell understood how much he could be hated because of the color of his skin and the shape of his eyes.'
That was true. Despite his aristocratic upbringing, Kyle had taken a rare and unbigoted pleasure in the world's diversity.
Elliott turned away from the window and regarded her with bleak eyes. 'What of you, Jin? Maxwell told me that your father was a Scottish trader, Hugh Montgomery, and that you were born here in Macao. Do you still want to go to England?'
'I must. I promised Kyle to personally take the news of his death to his family.'
Elliott's brows rose a little at her use of the familiar name. In a burst of defiance, she untied her queue and
