Bride Trilogy - The China Bride Part 22

Then he heard murmurs of shock from the guests around him. He turned, and his heart caught when he saw her poised at the entrance to the ballroom. Tall and slim and swathed in shimmering scarlet and gold, she was a magnificent peac.o.c.k among pigeons. Her dark hair swooped up to reveal a slender neck, while her enigmatic expression made her a woman of splendid mystery.

Languidly she fanned herself as her gaze swept the room. Her brows rose fractionally when she saw him with Eloise Hamill. Forgetting the girl's existence, along with common sense and self-restraint, Kyle cut across the room and took Troth's hand. "You look stunning," he murmured. "Are you set on startling Northamptonshire out of ten years' growth?"

"Not at all." There was a wicked glint in her eyes as she glanced at Wrexham, who was regarding her with astonishment. "I am dressed as a modest Chinese lady."

"The like of which has never been seen in these parts." He couldn't take his eyes from her. She was lovely in all circ.u.mstances, but tonight's costume emphasized her foreign side. She looked like an exquisite Chinese concubine whose price was an empire.

He escorted her to his father, who was in a group with several local landowners, including the Duke of Candover, who was lord lieutenant of the county. Candover nodded to him. "I'm glad to see you returned in one piece, Maxwell."

"Not half so glad as I. Allow me to present my wife, my lords. We were handfasted in China."

Wrexham scowled, but Kyle decided to attribute that to the pain of gout rather than public disapproval of his temporary daughter-in-law. Troth bowed gracefully. It would have been interesting if she'd done a full kowtow, prostrating herself and touching her forehead to the floor, but Kyle was glad that she refrained. Good society in Northampton would have swooned at the sight.

Candover bowed in return. "I'm pleased to meet you, Lady Maxwell."

"By Jove, she certainly is a beauty," Lord Hamill exclaimed.

"I've heard that Chinese men can have as many wives and concubines as they want," Sir Edward Swithin said with interest. "How fortunate for them!"

Ancient Lord Whitby, known for his earthiness, cackled. "A handfasting, so you can sample the goods and then move on? Clever of you, Maxwell."

"On the contrary," Troth said in her crisp, Scottish-accented English. "The handfasting was purely a matter of form. My situation was difficult, and Lord Maxwell gallantly intervened to a.s.sist me in leaving China and coming to Britain."

There was a frozen silence as the men absorbed her words. The Duke of Candover recovered first. Humor lurking in his eyes, he said, "You have a remarkable grasp of our language, Lady Maxwell."

She gave him the full benefit of her luminous gaze. "My father was a Scot, so I've spoken English from the cradle."

"A Scot, eh? No wonder you look foreign," Sir Edward said.

Awkward moment over, they all laughed, even Troth. "My father would have turned over in his grave to know I was wed to an Englishman, but at least with a handfasting, I'll soon be free of the Sa.s.senach."

"One could argue about the legality of handfasting if not done on Scottish soil, but it suited the circ.u.mstances," Kyle said, wishing she wasn't quite so keen on pointing out the temporary nature of their arrangement.

Sir Edward said, "No gentleman could have refused a request for aid from such a beautiful lady."

Gloomily aware that Sir Edward was single, rich, and highly eligible, Kyle said, "Would you like to attempt the dancing, my dear?"

"Thank you. I should enjoy that."

He led her onto the floor. "Did you waltz at Warfield?"

"Hardly-I was in mourning for my dead husband. But I observed the dancing closely."

She moved into waltz position, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in his clasp. As she gave him a sultry glance, he realized how unwise it was to waltz with her. This close, long-dormant desire began to stir. Her Chinese costume didn't include gloves, and he was ridiculously conscious of the bare fingers resting within his own gloved hand.

She needed little instruction in the steps of the dance. Her observations, coupled with her natural athletic grace, enabled her to quickly learn how to follow his lead. He said, "You've a gift for this."

Her eyes glinted up through dark lashes with wicked provocation. "Waltzing is not so different from wing chun sparring."

Uneasily he recognized that she was sparring now. She was angry, not specifically at him, he guessed, or even his father. Rather, she had armored herself against a world that hadn't lived up to her wistful dreams.

He had a vivid memory of the temple cave, where they'd first made love and she'd taught him about chi. In the heart of a mountain, they had both discovered pure happiness. But ultimately, her relationship with him had cost her something precious. He could only hope that in the future she would be able to put aside the armor and find hope and trust with another man.

As they whirled across the floor, desire intensified. d.a.m.nation, he didn't need that now! He would miss her presence abominably when she was gone, and desire would only make it worse.

He'd better hope that the year and a day was over before he fully recovered his strength, because having her nearby without physical intimacy was going to be more difficult with every day that pa.s.sed. Yet in the weeks they had left he would be unable to resist her company, for he would need the memories when she was gone.

He would need them desperately.

Chapter 35.

Troth had expected the earl's gathering to be challenging, and it was, even with Kyle's support. The men weren't much of a problem. She cynically guessed that for many of them she represented an exotic fantasy, so naturally they were friendly, except for a few ancients who eyed her suspiciously.

The women were quite a different matter. When Kyle introduced her to a group of the most influential ladies in the county, a dozen pairs of eyes scanned her with varying degrees of curiosity and hostility. Not only was she foreign, but she'd stolen one of the most eligible men in England, and most of them probably hadn't yet heard about the handfast that meant he'd soon be available again.

Before any kind of conversation could begin, a servant came up to Kyle and murmured something. Kyle frowned, then glanced at Troth. "I'm sorry, I must leave for a few minutes. I'll be back as soon as I can."

She could feel his reluctance to leave her to the tender mercies of the local social arbiters. The first to speak was Lady Swithin, Sir Edward's widowed mother, who said in a voice of cool courtesy, "How do you find Northamptonshire, Lady Maxwell?"

Repressing a desire to say that it was easy, she'd just hired a chaise and the driver had found it for her, Troth replied, "It's very lovely, though colder than I'm used to."

One of the women said in a whisper that was presumably meant to be private, "What an odd creature! Where do you suppose Maxwell found her?"

"No place ladies like us should know about, I'm sure," was the malicious reply.

With a disapproving glance at the whisperers, Lady Swithin said, "I'm sure you'll be a most remarkable addition to society, Lady Maxwell."

The conversation ground to a halt. Then a grandly dressed lady joined the group. "Lady Swithin, introduce me to this lovely young woman," she said in a low, warm voice.

"This is Lady Maxwell, your grace." Lady Swithin glanced at Troth. "The d.u.c.h.ess of Candover."

The d.u.c.h.ess's golden hair was laced with silver, and the lines around her eyes proclaimed her as well into her forties, if not older, but she was still a stunning beauty. Based on the reaction of the other women, she was the tai-tai of this particular society. Troth bowed. "I am honored, your grace."

"The honor is mine. I've always been fascinated by China. I hope you'll be willing to tell me more about it." The d.u.c.h.ess touched Troth's sleeve. As she did, one gray-green eye closed in a definite wink. "Your gown is magnificent. I've never seen such embroidery."

The d.u.c.h.ess's approval warmed the atmosphere. The dim blond child Kyle had been talking with earlier said artlessly, "I always thought the Chinese are yellow, but your complexion is as fair as any Englishwoman."

"Chinese come in several shades, none of them yellow," Troth explained. "My mother was from a part of China where people are very light skinned, and of course my father was Scottish."

Since the ice had been broken, several of the younger women began asking Troth about her costume, cosmetics, and the lives of Chinese women. Enhancing one's appearance was a universal female interest. She also realized that language was the key to acceptance. Since she talked like one of them, the ladies soon began to forget her unusual appearance and spoke as if she were a proper Englishwoman. Or at least a Scot.

Kyle reappeared when Troth was sipping champagne and chatting with the d.u.c.h.ess, who was not only as welcoming as Meriel, but apparently had a colorful past of her own. Troth wondered if they'd ever have a chance to become better acquainted. Probably not, to her regret.

To Kyle, the d.u.c.h.ess said, "You've improved the quality of Northamptonshire conversation with this young lady, Maxwell. Well done."

He gave the older woman an affectionate smile. "I thought you two would enjoy each other's company. May I take my wife away for a dance?"

"If you insist." The d.u.c.h.ess surveyed the room. "Time I removed my husband from that group of bores and had a waltz myself." With a friendly wave, she departed.

As they began to dance, Kyle said, "Since the d.u.c.h.ess likes you, you're well on the way to acceptance." He smiled fondly. "I fell madly in love with her when I was a schoolboy. She was very kind about my infatuation."

Troth guessed that he'd always be a little in love with the d.u.c.h.ess; she was that sort of woman. "Is there something wrong? I saw that you left the ballroom."

"My father wanted to speak to me before he retired."

"He left his own reception?" Troth said as Kyle swung her around to avoid another couple. He really was a wonderful dancer.

"He had a flare-up of gout. It's a horribly painful inflammation of the joints, a big toe in my father's case. He's in his bedroom, swearing at his valet."

Troth felt reluctant sympathy for the earl. "My father sometimes suffered from gout. There's a simple Chinese treatment for it. Not a cure, but it might reduce the pain."

"You'd help my father after the way he's treated you?"

"I want him to feel well enough to leave tomorrow, as he planned," she said tartly.

Kyle smiled. "That's a good reason. Shall I take you up to him?"

She nodded, and when the dance ended they slipped upstairs as the other guests went in to supper. In Wrexham's bedroom, his elderly valet hovered in a corner while the earl occupied a ma.s.sive wing chair. His right foot was elevated on a cushioned stool and he was drinking a gla.s.s of spirits.

Kyle promptly removed his father's drinking gla.s.s and the decanter on the table next to him. "Unless your physician has changed his advice, you're not allowed to drink this, especially when you're having an attack."

"Give me that, you disrespectful pup!" Wrexham roared as he grabbed for the gla.s.s. He failed and fell back into his chair, his face shining with sweat. "And why the devil did you bring her? "

"My father had gout. Tui Na, Chinese ma.s.sage, usually helped him," Troth explained.

"I'll be d.a.m.ned if I'll let you practice your heathen ways on me!"

"As you wish, my lord." She bowed and started to withdraw.

"Wait." Wrexham's voice stopped her. "What would you do?"

The old dragon must be in dire straits to listen. "Lines of energy run through the body. Pressing in the right places can change the energy flow and relieve pain, sometimes even cure a condition. But I'm not a trained healer, you understand. I simply know the specific techniques for gout." She gestured at his right leg. "I would press very hard on several spots on the inside of your ankle. With luck, the pain might be reduced."

The earl shifted awkwardly in his chair. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try. But you go back to our guests, Maxwell. Can't have both of us gone."

Kyle gave Troth an encouraging glance as he left. She beckoned Wrexham's valet closer. "Watch what I do. If this helps, you'll be able to do the same in the future."

Nervous but game, the valet watched as Troth knelt and pressed her thumb hard on a spot inside the earl's ankle. The old man flinched, his fingers digging into the chair arms, but didn't ask her to stop.

Hoping she remembered the pressure points correctly, she set to work, quietly explaining what she was doing to the valet. When she'd done as much as she could, she got to her feet. "Do you feel any better?"

Wrexham eyed her suspiciously. "There's less pain, but that might have diminished anyway."

"Quite possible," she agreed. "Good night, Lord Wrexham."

Once more he halted her before she could leave the room. "Actually, the pain has gone down quite a bit," he said in a gruff voice. "Why did you help?"

"It is a good Christian deed to help one's enemies." She gave a glinting smile. "And when one does, the enemy suffers remorse."

Wrexham gave a bark of laughter. "I can't believe I thought you were bland."

"You never tried to know me, my lord." She bowed, then withdrew, knowing that she'd earned some respect from the old dragon. Not that it mattered, for soon she would be gone. But she wouldn't mind if he suffered pangs of remorse for his behavior.

Despite her late night, Troth rose early the next morning to do her chi exercises. The air was misty with a chill that bit to the bone, so she had to move to stay warm.

She was starting her second form when Kyle appeared and silently began to copy her movements. She wasn't sure whether to be amused or irritated. "You have a long way to go before mastering this, my lord," she said dryly as she began the slow, sinuous pattern called "cloud arms."

"Which means I'd better take the opportunity to learn from the only expert in Britain." He duplicated her graceful movements, wincing a little. "I'm still sore from riding. Do you mind my joining your practices? I promise not to talk, though I'll understand if you prefer to be alone with the chi and the mist."

She had been enjoying her solitude, yet his offer to leave made her realize that she enjoyed his company more. "As you wish. By the way, how is Lord Wrexham?"

"Well enough to leave for London today." Kyle grinned. "You impressed him."

Glad the old dragon wouldn't be around for her remaining time at Dornleigh, she resumed her tai chi routine. Kyle was quick, and he remembered his lessons from the trip to Hoshan. By the time she left Dornleigh, he'd be reasonably competent. The exercise would help restore his energy balance, which was still somewhat blocked.

Sliding into a meditative state, she half forgot his presence as she moved through faster and faster exercises. Then she saw him fold onto the damp turf, clutching his side. "Kyle!" She spun around and dropped to her knees beside him, placing her hand on his forehead. "Are you having a malaria attack? "

"Nothing so dramatic," he panted, clutching his ribs with one hand. "Just a st.i.tch in my side from too much exertion. I'm in wretchedly poor condition, Troth."

She sat back on her heels. "Actually, you're quite lively for a dead man."

"News of my death was greatly exaggerated." Warily he straightened his torso. "The worst thing about malaria, I think, is how long it takes to recover. I had my last attack somewhere around the Cape of Good Hope, but even months later, I'd lose if I wrestled a good-size puppy."

"I could defeat you with both hands tied behind my back," she agreed.

"Humiliating but true." He lurched to his feet, wincing. "I'd better stop for today before I have to be carried home on a hurdle."

"I've done enough for one morning also." The sun had burned off the mist, and the morning was acquiring some warmth, at least by the standards of a British spring. "Until later then. I want to explore the gardens. With the rain, I've seen very little."

He fell into step beside her as she started walking. "Planning how to change them to improve the feng shui?"

"I doubt much can be done in the time I have left-a good garden must be shaped over many years. Perhaps something could be done with water, though. Waterfalls and pools are restful."

His gaze went to the gray bulk of the house. "I've thought of building an orangery like the one at Warfield. Would that be good feng shui?"

"It could be. If you wish to continue with chi exercises, you should include an area in the conservatory where you can practice surrounded by living things. Very good chi, and most useful to have an indoor exercise area, given the beastly weather you have on this little island."

"Perhaps you could help with the design." He guided her down a brick walkway toward the rear of the gardens. "Can you explain the underlying principles of feng shui to me, or is it too complicated?"

"I'm not an expert, you understand. But the subject interested me, so when I saw a feng shui pract.i.tioner at work, I would follow and ask questions." Where to start? She thought about the ba-gua and its division into sectors, the myriad rules that governed color, form, placement, and every other aspect of the environment.

Remembering what an old Macanese geomancer had told her when she was a child, she said, "Basically, feng shui is intended to encourage a healthy balance of energy throughout a structure, and in the process to improve one's joss, one's fortune. Warfield Park has very good chi. Meriel had never heard of feng shui, but she and Dominic are sensitive to their surroundings, so the choices they've made have produced happy results. The same was true before their time, I think. Warfield seems like a house that has been much loved by those who live there."