Authors: Mary Jo Putney
"When Montgomery died in the shipwreck, was there any thought of sending Troth back to his family?" Kyle asked curiously. Logan shook his head. "Not that I know of. He kept her and her mother very private. Even I never saw her, though Hugh and I worked together daily when I first went out East. After Hugh drowned, Chenqua told me the girl was going to live with Chinese relations, which seemed reasonable enough. No point in uprooting the lass and sending her halfway around the world if she had family nearby."
Chenqua had said Troth had Chinese relatives? That was strange. Li-Yin had come from the north, and had no communication with her family after she was sold as a concubine.
An uneasy thought struck him. Might Chenqua have told Logan that Troth had family so he could keep Troth's linguistic skills for his own use?
Kyle disliked the idea that Chenqua might have turned Troth into a virtual slave for purely selfish reasons. Of course, from Chenqua's point of view, he might have been doing Troth a favor by offering a worthless mixed-blood girl-child a chance to be useful. "It must have been hard on your business when Montgomery and his ship went down."
"Aye, it took a lot of hard work, juggling of finances, and cooperation from Chenqua to stave off bankruptcy. By the next year, though, things were looking better, and I've done well enough since."
Remembering what Gavin had said, Kyle remarked, "In Canton, I heard hints of some kind of scandal about Montgomery. Why was that? " Logan gave him a hard look. "There's no point in speaking ill of the dead."
"Did Montgomery do something that bad?"
Logan made a negative gesture with his glass. "Don't be thinking Hugh was a criminal. He was a damned good fellow in most ways. But… maybe a bit of a hypocrite."
Had Montgomery dealt in opium even as he preached against it? Or was there some other old scandal? Logan was right—there was no point in unearthing old tales, especially ones that might hurt Troth. He hoped she'd never heard any of the China traders disparaging her father. Changing the subject, he asked, "Do you have a family here in Scotland?"
"Aye. My wife went out with me to Macao at the beginning, but she hated the climate, and after we had a couple of bairns, she decided to come home for fear of the fever and illnesses there. That's why I come back regularly—to remind my family who their lord and master is." He chuckled.
"Of course, when I'm here I miss my China girl, but there will be a fine welcome waiting when I return to Macao." His gaze rested on Troth.
"There's something about Chinese women that European females can't match."
"Perhaps you should have brought your concubine along for your amusement," Kyle said dryly.
"I considered it, but all hell would have broken loose. By the way, what's this I hear about you and Hugh's daughter? Some say you're married, some not."
Kyle pulled out the official story once more. "We just performed a nominal handfast to help her come to Britain. The term of that will end soon."
"Och, that makes sense. She's a bonnie lass for sure, but a man in your position obviously couldn't marry her for real."
If Logan had made a comment implying that Kyle had done the handfast so he could sleep with Troth, then discard her, Kyle would have broken the whiskey bottle over the other man's head. Luckily, Logan had too much sense for that. Instead, he slanted a crafty glance toward Kyle. "I had some of Elliott House's Earl's Blend Tea. Fine stuff. Should do well. What's in it?" Kyle smiled. "I may not be a real trader, but I know better than to answer that."
"It was worth a try. No matter, give me some time and I'll figure out the blend," Logan said, unabashed. "All's fair in love, war, and business."
"When do you return to China?"
"July, so I can reach Canton just as the new trading season opens. I wanted to spend spring in Scotland. I miss the summers, though not the winters. I hear you and your handfast bride are going to be taking a trip up to the Highlands?"
"We're leaving the day after tomorrow for Kinnockburn, north of Stirling. My mother was a Highlander, and she left some property there."
"Be sure to take Hugh's daughter to Castle Doom on the way. That will give her a rare view of the Highlands. No doubt you've been there?" Castle Doom was the nickname of a ruined fortress on top of a ferociously steep hill, and it had some of the grandest views in central Scotland. "It's been years since I visited the place, but you're right, Troth would enjoy it very much. We'll stop on the way to Kinnockburn."
He was determined to make her journey a memorable one, because he suspected that it would be his last chance to win Troth's heart.
So exhilarated that she discarded caution, Troth skipped over to Kyle and caught his hands. "Come, my lord. I swear you're the only man here I haven't danced with yet."
" You haven't danced with
me
," Caleb Logan said, his eyes gleaming with discreet lust. He was one of those men who was stimulated by the thought of mounting exotic women, Troth suspected.
Face straight, Kyle said, "Troth Montgomery, meet Caleb Logan, who was once your father's partner."
"Good evening, Mr. Logan." Troth curtsied gracefully, as if she hadn't seen him often in Canton. But Logan had obviously not made the connection between the interpreter Jin Kang and his old partner's daughter, and she wasn't about to enlighten him. "I heard of you from my father, of course, though it's been many years."
"What did he say?" Logan asked curiously.
"That you showed great promise, and you'd end up a rich man." Logan laughed. "Hugh must have had a bit of the second sight." While the trader was still chuckling, Troth detached Kyle and led him onto the floor as the dance music was starting. "I hope you haven't drunk so much whiskey you'll fall flat on the floor."
He smiled at her wickedly. "I'm enough of a Scot to dance best when I've had a wee dram or two or three."
It was the truth, too. He danced the old Scottish reels with passion, swift, sure footwork, and a clasp that dizzied her with his nearness when it was time to whirl her around. Damning the consequences, she gave herself up to the magic of the moment, for dancing was the closest thing to making love that she dared do with him.
When the reel was done, he took her arm and steered her to the table where cool, tart lemonade was being dispensed. As they sipped their drinks, he asked, "Have you been doing your
chi
exercises? I came by the Montgomerys' garden the last couple of mornings, but didn't see you."
"I'm afraid not. My grandmother and aunt have been keeping me too busy. I had no idea that so many cousins existed in the world," she said guiltily, knowing she could have found time if she'd wanted. But this early in her acquaintance with her father's family, she didn't want to do anything as strange as
wing chun
in the garden. Though they'd accepted Troth Montgomery without reservation, she'd wait a bit before introducing them to Mei-Lian. "Wouldn't Mairead make a wonderful
tai-tai
?" Kyle laughed. "I think she already is."
James Montgomery leaped onto a chair and called out, "Now that we're all here and merry, I'd like to propose a toast, so if ye havena a glass in yer hand, get one!"
After everyone complied, James raised his glass to Troth. " 'Tis blithe to meet, woe to part, and blithe to meet once more. May the sun always shine upon ye, niece, for ye've brought my brother home."
Tears in her eyes, Troth clutched her lemonade as everyone drank to her. She wanted to say something in return, but her throat had closed up. Then Kyle said in a voice that carried to all corners of the room, "And here's to the Montgomerys of Melrose, who have proved that there is no hospitality in the world to match that of Scotland."
Everyone drank to that gladly. Troth's tears almost spilled over as Kyle gave her an intimate smile. No one else in the world could understand what tonight meant to her.
A wild skirling pierced the conversation, transfixing everyone in the room. "The piper's come! Aye, the piper's here!"
As people flooded out into the courtyard, Kyle kept an arm around Troth to keep her from being squashed. He always made her feel so safe when there was physical threat. It was emotional situations that made her wary. Wind-tossed torches in the courtyard illuminated the approach of a Highland piper in full regalia, kilt swinging and bagpipes wailing to set the hair on a man's neck straight up. Troth watched, rapt. No wonder soldiers would follow a piper to hell and back.
She also understood why the pipes were played outdoors—the sound would be shattering inside. When the first tune ended and the crowd was applauding, she asked Kyle quietly, "I thought pipes were more from the Highlands?"
"Yes, but all Scots mourned when Highland dress and customs were suppressed after the Forty-Five uprising. Now that kilts and pipes are legal again, they're welcome everywhere in Scotland, especially since the Highland regiments won such honor fighting Napoleon. He called the Highlanders 'devils in skirts.' "
James Montgomery emerged from the crowd with a pair of swords and ceremoniously crossed them on the ground, then announced, "My sister Annie's husband, who fought with the Gordon Highlanders at Waterloo, will do a sword dance."
Troth had met Tam Gordon, a slight, quiet uncle by marriage, but hadn't known of his military past. The piper began to play and Tam stepped forward. His feet moving with dazzling agility, he danced around the swords, his arms raised and exultation on his face.
Kyle said in her ear, "It was considered an omen of victory the next day if the dance could be done without touching one of the swords."
"Can you do the sword dance?"
"I learned it as a boy, but one must wear a kilt to do it properly. Trousers are too tight for true Highland dancing." He placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Dominic is fond enough of Scotland, but it never spoke to him as strongly as it did me. Perhaps it was because I was given a Scottish name and he wasn't."
Troth had a brief, dizzying image of Kyle in full Highland dress. He'd be a sight to send any female heart into palpitations. Her skin prickled as she remembered their lovemaking among the apple trees of Dornleigh. For a brief time there, minds and doubts had not come between them…
Sword dance finished, the piper began to play a reel. As couples formed, Kyle caught Troth around the waist and swung her into the music. "It would take a heart of stone not to feel like a Scot tonight."
"And my heart isn't stone, my lord!" Laughing, she surrendered to his lead, her skirts swinging and her hair spilling loose as they danced with the fierce freedom their ancestors had known. Under the black sky and flaring torches, she forgot past and present, forgot everything except the wild wail of the pipes and the man whose masterful hands and strong body warmed the night and ignited all her senses.
She tried to remember the good reasons for not lying with him again. But pain and pride seemed distant and unreal, while the call of the blood was hot and urgent and infinitely more compelling.
Perhaps on their journey to the Highlands they could have one last fling
—and the devil take the consequences.
Despite her late night at the
cèilidh
, Troth rose early enough the next morning to creep from the cottage and do her
chi
and
wing chun
routines. She half hoped that Kyle would come, but he didn't. He must have given up on her.
After the previous night's vigorous dancing, her muscles welcomed the gentler
chi
exercises. It was chilly, though. Even this far into spring, Scotland in the early morning was bracing. Not the best part of the world for outdoor exercise. Nonetheless, the familiar movements warmed and soothed her.
She was startled from dreaminess by her grandmother's voice. "Is this some kind of heathen dancing, lass?"
Troth spun around, a little embarrassed to have been caught in her loose Chinese garments. "It's not really dancing. In China it's believed that
chi
, the energy of life, is in all things, and the right kind of movement helps balance it."
Mairead's brows rose skeptically. "I suppose the exercise is good, if ye don't catch lung fever dancing about in those indecent trousers. I came out to see if ye'd like some breakfast after such a vigorous night."
"It was a wonderful
cèilidh
, and breakfast would be lovely." Shivering a little now that she wasn't moving, Troth accompanied her grandmother inside, then raced up to change into a dress while Mairead fried eggs and toasted bread.
Properly garbed, she enjoyed the meal and the relaxed time alone with her grandmother, since James and Jean were both away from home. She was just finishing her meal when Mairead disappeared for a moment, then returned and set a ribbon-tied bundle of papers on the scrubbed pine kitchen table.
"I thought ye might like to read some of yer father's letters," Mairead explained as she poured more tea.
Troth caught her breath as she took the first letter from the bundle. Plainly it had been read over and over again, but she would recognize her father's bold, clear hand anywhere. Since his own father had been a schoolteacher, he'd been taught to write well.