The China Bride

gentleman would see her and fall instantly in love. She'd been very young then.

She skimmed her hands down the coat, the embroidered roundels faintly rough against her palms. Peonies for spring, bats for good fortune. Feeling deliriously feminine, she slowly pirouetted, the heavy silk swinging away from her body. Would Maxwell find her pleasing if he could see her now?

Her glance touched the mirror on the opposite wall, and her expression crumpled. East or West, she was ugly. Why did she torment herself by dressing up and pretending to be what she could never be? As a girl in Macao, she'd admired the beautiful Fan-qui ladies with their varied hair colors and features. With her hulking body and huge servant-girl feet she would be less conspicuous among them than with the delicate Cantonese ladies, but never would she be considered pretty.

A rap sounded on the door. 'Jin Kang?'

It was Ling-Ling. 'Lovely Bell' was Chenqua's Fourth Lady, the youngest, prettiest, and liveliest of his wives, and Troth's closest friend in the household. Not wanting to be caught in her forbidden garments, she called out, 'A moment, Ling-Ling.'

Swiftly she removed her finery and folded it back into the chest, then pulled on her trousers and tunic. There wasn't time to replait her hair, but as Ling-Ling called impatiently Troth yanked out the pins and shook it loose over her shoulders. Only then did she open the door.

Ling-Ling entered, exquisitely made up and swaying gracefully on her tiny bound feet. Her 'golden lilies' were only three inches long, a fact of great pride to her. She looked up at Troth, surprised. 'What a lot of hair you have, and with that odd yellow color. Not properly black. Your Fan-qui blood, of course.'

Troth suppressed a sigh. Her friend was nothing if not forthright. Dressed in a queue, Troth's hair looked decently dark, but loose it showed rusty highlights. 'We can't all be as fortunate as you, Ling-Ling.'

'Very true.' Smiling mischievously, Ling-Ling perched on the only chair. 'You've unbound your breasts, I see. You're so large.''

'More of that dreadful Fan-qui blood.'

Ling-Ling nodded. 'The barbarians are enormous, aren't they? And so hairy. The last time my lord entertained some at dinner, I watched from behind a screen. How horrible it would be to belong to one!'

'A terrible thought. You might have ended up with a child like me.'

'It's not your fault you have tainted blood.'

Knowing her friend meant no insult, Troth settled on the bed, stretching out her injured ankle. 'Did you come up here for some special reason? '

Ling-Ling leaned forward in the chair, her eyes glowing. 'I think I am with child!'

'That's wonderful! Are you sure?'

'Not quite yet, but I feel it in my bones. I will give my lord a son!'

'It could be a girl.'

Ling-Ling shook her head. 'I have prayed at the temple of Kuan Yin, and burned joss sticks to her daily. It will be a son. My lord wants that, too, or he would not have released his seed. He will be so pleased.'

Ling-Ling's frank chatter had taught Troth much about what happened between men and women in bed. She always listened with queasy interest, intensely curious but feeling that it was improper to hear about such private matters. She couldn't imagine Chenqua as a lover, though according to Ling-Ling, his kung fu strength was equaled by his amatory endurance. If he'd fathered another child at his age, he was fit indeed.

'Boy or girl, I envy you, Ling-Ling.'

The girl tilted her head to one side. 'Truly? I didn't think you were interested in a woman's life.'

'I've had no choice but to be Jin Kang.' Troth's mouth twisted. 'No man would have me.'

'No Chinese man would, of course, but a Fan-qui might,' Ling-Ling said thoughtfully. 'Such a man would be honored to have a concubine who carried the blood of the Celestial Kingdom.'

Troth had often secretly studied the European traders, wondering what it would be like to be with one of them. Gavin Elliott in particular appealed to her, for he reminded her of her father: tall and handsome, honorable and clever, courteous to all. But Lord Maxwell-Troth flushed when she thought of him. He had fired both her blood and her imagination, even though any such relationship was unthinkable.

'Aiiee, is there one you fancy?' Ling-Ling asked eagerly. 'Shall I ask my lord tonight when we lie together to give you to the Fan-qui you desire?'

'No!' Troth made herself shrug as if indifferent. 'I may be half barbarian myself, but that doesn't mean that I want to mate with one.'

Ling-Ling nodded approval. It was a very proper sentiment.

A lie, of course. Though marrying a Fan-qui was impossible, Troth certainly dreamed of mating with one.

Gavin poured a cup of steaming tea into a handle-less Chinese cup and offered it to Kyle. 'What do you think?'

Kyle tasted it thoughtfully. Under his friend's tutelage, he'd become something of an expert at evaluating teas. 'Rather bland.'

'You're being charitable. It's dead boring. But… offered at a very attractive price…? I wonder if it's worth shipping all the way to Boston.'

Kyle took another sip. 'What if you add some kind of flavoring? The basic tea taste is fairly strong. Blending in something else will add interest.'

Gavin looked intrigued. 'Any suggestions?'

'I've had tea flavored with cardamom in India. It has a lovely taste and scent. Or you might try some kind of citrus. Either lemon or orange.'

His friend nodded thoughtfully. 'I'll order a goodly amount of the tea, and we can start experimenting with flavors. I'll make a merchant of you yet. Care to help establish a London branch of Elliott House?'

'You're expanding your trade into England?'

'It's the logical next step. Britain has many more customers than the United States.' Gavin grinned. 'When I was a lad in Aberdeen, I quite fancied myself as the master of one of the world's great trading companies.'

'You're well on your way.' Kyle hadn't done badly himself. He'd started dabbling in trade to learn whether he was capable of success unrelated to his rank, and he'd found satisfaction and profit in his ventures. Though he was returning to the staid life of an English gentleman, he wanted to maintain his connection with the East, and that was probably a factor in Gavin's decision to expand Elliott House's operations. 'I think a London office is an excellent idea-it will save me from respectability.'

It would also give Kyle an excuse for future travel, though not until he'd done his duty by marrying and getting an heir or two. It was a dull prospect, but no longer unbearable, as it had been when he'd left England. Surely he could find a good-tempered young woman who would make him a comfortable, undemanding wife. He did not expect great love. That came only once in a lifetime.

Gavin added some figures to a sheet of paper he produced from an inside pocket. 'I'm late for a meeting at Consoo House. Will you ask Jin Kang to write this letter to Pao Tien, the merchant who sent me this tea sample? I need to place an order.'

'Can Jin read English?' Kyle asked, surprised.

'I doubt it. Just read the letter out loud. He'll translate it into Chinese and add all the right flowery phrases.'

'I'll take care of it right away.' Kyle was glad of an excuse to seek Jin Kang out. Perhaps he could learn why the young man had made such an impression on him at their first meeting.

He was turning to leave when Gavin said, 'Don't forget that tonight is the grand dinner in your honor at the English Factory.'

Kyle groaned. 'I've been doing my best to forget it. Why do the East India Company fellows feel the need to give me an official welcome? I've already met every Western trader in Canton, I think.'

'Because there's damned little to do in Canton. No wives or mistresses allowed, all of us confined to a piece of land not much bigger than a cricket pitch- any excuse for diversion will do. Entertaining a visiting viscount is a good reason to break out the best silver.'

That made sense. Though Kyle was intrigued by China, he'd go mad if he had to spend half a year living such a restricted life. After only three days, he was already longing for a good gallop through open country. That would