The China Bride

shook her hair loose the way her husband had liked it. 'Kyle said you hadn't known Hugh Montgomery left a son. That's because he didn't. My father left only a weak, worthless daughter named Troth.'

'Sweet Jesus.' Elliott stared at her. 'All of these years, you were disguised as a man? Unbelievable-and yet now that I look at you, I wonder why I was ever fooled.'

'People see what they expect to see.' Except those like Kyle, who looked closer. 'I was of no use to Chenqua as a female, so Troth Montgomery vanished.'

'Just as today, Jin Kang vanishes.'

She relaxed a little, grateful for how quickly he'd grasped the dilemma that had ruled her life for so many years. 'There's more, Mr. Elliott.'

She raised her left hand to reveal the Celtic ring. 'Kyle married me in prison the day before he died. I thought he was mad, but he said that a mutual pledge was all that was required in Scotland. I don't know if it was legal, but it was what he wanted.'

'And what you wanted also, I think?' Elliott said gently.

His perception crumbled the willpower that had held her together in the weeks since Kyle's death. She began to cry, great, agonized tears that racked her body. She spun away, humiliated at her complete loss of control, but unable to check her wrenching sobs.

Warm arms encircled her as if she were a child. 'You've had a damnable time of it, lass,' Elliott murmured. 'But you're safe now.'

Strange how much differently he treated her now that he knew she was a woman and half-Scottish. Though he'd always been courteous and respectful of Jin Kang, to Troth Montgomery he gave the kindness of a big brother. She burrowed into his arms, crying for the loss of a rich, vital life that had so much to offer the world. For the loss of the man she'd loved, and had hardly begun to know.

When her tears finally ran out and she drew away, she saw that Elliott's eyes were damp. He'd lost not only a partner, but a friend.

Turning practical, he said, 'I'll order refreshments-you look as if you haven't eaten for a week. Tea, or something stronger? '

'Tea. And any kind of food.' Wearily she sank into a deep chair as he rang for a servant and ordered a quick meal for his guest.

He took the chair opposite. 'Forgive me for the impertinence, but might you be carrying a child that could be Maxwell's heir?'

'No.' She closed her eyes. The night she'd discovered that, she'd curled up in an anguished ball and wept until dawn. 'Unfortunately.'

'I'm sorry-but it makes your situation easier,' he said pragmatically. 'Maxwell's family is unlikely to challenge the marriage if you aren't a threat to them. Even if they do prove difficult… well, I'm willing to accept you as his heir, which means you own a quarter of Elliott House.'

Her eyes snapped open. 'I… I never thought of that.'

'You've had more important things on your mind. Even if the Renbournes refuse to acknowledge you as Lady Maxwell, your share of Elliott House should provide you with enough income to live comfortably. More than comfortably, if I have my way.'

'It…it seems too much when we were married for less than a day.'

'Maxwell married you to insure your future. Don't feel that it's wrong to accept what he wanted to give.' Elliott eyed her speculatively. 'I'm planning on opening a London office. If you're a partner and living in England, you can have a strong voice in running it. You know things about China no Fan-qui ever will.'

She covered her eyes with her hands, not prepared for this new world opening in front of her. It was hard to grasp that she, who had been a minor hong employee, was now a partner in a powerful American trading company.

Guessing her thoughts, Elliott said, 'This must all be a shock, but you'll have five or six months to prepare yourself for the role of the widowed Lady Maxwell. Just take everything one step at a time.'

One step at a time. 'I… I must have European clothing made. All I have is what I'm wearing.'

'And the sooner that's burned, the better. I know a seamstress who specializes in clothing for European women. She'll take care of you.'

A servant arrived with a tray of food and a pot of tea. Elliott sipped a cup while Troth ate. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. When she finished, she said, 'Peng mentioned that you're off for Singapore in two days.'

Elliott frowned. 'I'm afraid so. I can delay perhaps another day, but no longer.'

'There's no need for you to change your plans on my account.' She gave a wintry smile. 'I'm used to managing for myself.'

'But you don't have to now. That's why Kyle married you.'

Close to tears again, she poured more tea. 'The most important thing for you is to arrange for his body to be retrieved so he can be buried in England. I think it's best to go to Mr. Boynton, since he's head of the East India Company's Chinese operations.'

'A good idea-he has more influence with the viceroy in Canton than any other European. I'll go this afternoon and tell him the whole story. Since Maxwell was a British nobleman, the Company will cooperate fully.' Elliott frowned. 'Does Chenqua know what happened?' When she shook her head, he said, 'You'll have to tell him.'

He was right, of course. She'd mentally tried to compose a letter during the long walk from Feng-tang. Though she hadn't liked the role Chenqua chose for her, he'd acted honorably as head of his household and her guardian. She owed him gratitude for all he'd done. And, though she'd always feared him a little, she also felt respect and affection. 'I will write him before I leave Macao.'

'You'll stay here, of course, even after I'm gone.' Elliott frowned thoughtfully. 'There's an English ship in port now. It will be sailing for London early next week. Just long enough for you to take care of necessary business and acquire a wardrobe.'

The sooner, the better. She yearned to escape China and its ghosts. Rising, she asked, 'Is there a guest room ready? I'm very tired.'

'Of course.' He rang for the comprador, who ran the household, then escorted her to the drawing room door. 'Anything you want, you have only to ask.'

She gave him an uneven smile. 'You're very kind. Kyle provided for me well when he married me out of pity.'

Elliott raised her chin with one hand and studied her face, surprising warmth in his eyes. 'He didn't marry you from pity, Troth Montgomery.'

After that cryptic remark, he turned her over to the comprador, then left for the Company's headquarters. Grateful that Kyle's death was no longer her burden alone, Troth went to her room and fell onto the bed without stripping off her filthy garments.

She slept for twenty hours.

Though Troth had lived in the household of a powerful man for fifteen years, she'd never had that power exercised on her behalf. Over the next days, Elliott organized her life with dizzying speed and efficiency. By the time he left for Singapore, a day later than planned, her voyage to London had been booked and her wardrobe was well under way. He also arranged a letter of credit on his London bank, explaining that the money was simply profits due to Kyle. She felt well cared for indeed.

The seamstress clucked disapprovingly when Troth insisted on dark colors and sober styles for her Fan-qui wardrobe. Though she was a bastard who had lived a highly irregular life, she would look respectable when she visited Kyle's family.

Her private obligations were the hardest. The first was to compose a letter to Chenqua in which she explained her actions and Lord Maxwell's death. Though she begged his forgiveness for her disobedience, she did not suggest returning to Canton and her old life. She'd paid too high a price for freedom to relinquish it now.

Then she visited the Protestant cemetery where her parents were buried side by side. A peaceful, walled enclave, it was as much garden as burial ground. Her father had helped buy the land and establish the cemetery, which had been badly needed since the only other Christian burial ground was Catholic, and neither the Catholics