Mary Putney - The China Bride

What had it been like to be wrenched from a European-style household and immersed in China? While she said she respected Chenqua and appreciated what he'd done for her, he was obviously no replacement for the father she'd adored. Yet she'd adjusted to a new way of life, and if she thought fate had dealt unkindly with her, she did not complain.

He hoped that Britain lived up to her dreams.

"Heya!" With a powerful twist of his body, Chenqua hurled Troth to the ground.

She rolled and lithely regained her feet, ready if Chenqua chose to engage again. Instead, he bowed formally. "That is enough for this morning. My thanks, Jin Kang. Your chi is strong today."

"Not so strong as yours, Uncle." She tucked her hands in opposite sleeves and bowed with equal formality, her insides knotted because she knew she could delay her request no longer. "This unworthy one has a great favor to ask."

He straightened his plain exercise tunic. " Yes?"

"The trading season is almost over. Already many of the Fan-qui have left. Since my services will not be needed, I would like to travel to Macao to honor the graves of my parents." She held her breath as she awaited his answer. If he refused permission, it would be much harder for her to slip away.

His shrewd black eyes studied her. She dropped her gaze and forced herself to stillness, praying that she hadn't aroused his suspicions.

"You will sail to Macao with one of the traders?"

"Gavin Elliott says I may sail on his ship. He leaves in two days."

"Very well, you may travel to Macao on your honorable mission. Let the tai-tai know when you intend to return. Do you need funds for the journey?"

"No, Uncle." She kept her eyes down, feeling a twinge of guilt at his offer to subsidize her false pilgrimage. Though she would eventually reach Macao and visit her parents' graves, that did not alter the fact that she was lying to him now.

Suppressing the urge to confess, she impulsively knelt and did a full formal kowtow, touching her forehead to the velvety turf to express fifteen years of gratitude and respect. "I am most grateful for your indulgence."

"You have earned the privilege." Thoughts already on the business of the day, he headed back toward the house.

Instead of following, Troth strolled deeper into the gardens, a little melancholy as she visited her favorite spots. It was still early, not long after dawn, a good time to say farewell to the serene beauty that had been balm to her soul.

She paused by waterfalls that had been tuned like a musical instrument, each trickle of water contributing to the overall harmony. The colorful ducks in the pond were awake and busily seeking their breakfast. Every pool and rock and twisted tree had memories, and she tried to engrave them all on her mind, aching at the knowledge that she would never see these sights again.

Her last stop was at the teahouse where she had meditated and Maxwell had made the offer that was going to change her life. If he had not seen her that day, she would not be planning her flight now.

She entered the house through a circular moon gate, so different from the boring rectangular doors of the Fan-qui . Even after fifteen years, she had not visited all parts of the sprawling structure. It was home to Chenqua's grown sons and their families as well as the merchant's wives and servants, so many rooms were private.

She would miss the courtyards, the way buildings and gardens were so intimately woven together that it was hard to say where one began and the other ended. In Britain, she gathered, it was much too cold to build homes around open spaces.

She found Ling-Ling in the lily pond courtyard, perched on the edge and gazing down at the golden carp that glided soundlessly through the depths. As always, Chenqua's Fourth Lady was exquisitely gowned and made up, her beauty almost unreal.

"You have emerged from your rooms early," Troth remarked as she seated herself on the stony rim of the pool.

Ling-Ling glanced up dreamily. "It is certain, Jin Kang. I carry my lord's child." She spread one hand over her stomach, honoring the mystery of burgeoning life.

"How wonderful!" Troth said, trying not to be too envious. "May this be the first of many strong sons. His lordship and the First Lady must be most pleased."

"They are." Ling-Ling smiled. "The tai-tai says it has been too long since there was a baby in the house."

The tai-tai was Chenqua's first and most important wife. Shrewd eyed and silver haired, the First Lady ruled the household with firmness and wisdom. By personally choosing her husband's and sons' wives, she assured harmony in the compound. She'd always been kind, in a remote way, to the half-blood orphan her husband had brought home. Troth said, "In two days I'm going to Macao to visit the graves of my parents."

"Will you burn grave goods there, or don't Christians do that?"

"It is not a Christian custom," Troth admitted, "but I will still honor my mother and father in the Chinese way, since they lie in Chinese soil."

Ling-Ling toyed with the golden blossom of a water lily. "You won't be coming back, will you?"

Troth froze. "Why do you say such a thing?"

"There are many in Macao with mixed blood. You belong there, not here. In Macao, you might find a husband who will honor you and give you sons."

"You have guessed correctly," Troth said reluctantly. "I… I must seek a life elsewhere."

"My lord will be sorry to lose you."

"Please don't tell him!"

"I shan't give you away. You have the right to leave, since you're not a slave, but it will be easier if no one knows your plans." Ling-Ling flicked water from her fingertips, creating a cluster of expanding circles on the surface of the pool. "I've always known your path did not lie here in Canton."

"Really?" Troth said, startled. "I didn't know that myself."

"You were unawakened. But you have met a man who stirs your senses, have you not? You have been different in the last weeks. Will he make you one of his ladies?"

Troth watched her friend in fascination. Ling-Ling's youth and playfulness made it easy to underestimate her perception. "There is a man who has started me thinking," she said carefully. "He will help me establish myself in my new home, but he has no wish to make me his lady."

Ling-Ling arched her elegant brows. "You have much to learn of men, Mei-Lian."

"That is the first time you've ever called me by my true name," Troth said softly.

"It is fitting, since you are leaving to become a woman."

Troth touched her hand. "I shall miss you, Ling-Ling."

Tears glimmered in Ling-Ling's eyes. "And I shall miss you. There is no one else who lets me tease as you do." She glanced at her bound feet in their embroidered lion slippers. "I would not want your life. Yet… sometimes I envy your freedom."

It was said that feet were bound so wives could not run away. Ling-Ling was proud of her position as one of Chenqua's wives and would never dream of fleeing, but her life was a narrow one, and would become narrower still. Widows couldn't remarry, so with a husband forty years her senior Ling-Ling was likely to spend most of her life sleeping alone. She might be content with that-but Troth wouldn't be.

Feeling better about her uncertain future, she returned to her bedroom and washed. Then she opened her treasure box to choose what she would carry across the river today.

Gradually she'd moved her most valued possessions to the sturdy brass-bound trunk that Maxwell had provided. Her father's Bible had gone first, followed by her mother's jewelry and the women's garments that had meant so much during her lonely years as Jin Kang.

Today she took the last of her father's books and a beautifully painted scroll, tying them across her abdomen with a band of cloth before putting on her tunic. Then she made her way to the water gate so she could cross to the Settlement. This close to the end of the season the hongs were bustling, but in two more days they would be silent, and she and Maxwell would be on their way.