Free The China Bride by Mary Jo Putney Page A

teahouse they stopped at a shop specializing in perfumes. Under the pretense of offering advice, Troth had an intoxicating session of sniffing and enjoying. If she were allowed to be a woman, she'd always wear scent. The next visit was to a dealer in spices and flavorings. Maxwell bought samples of many, frowning when he reached the final jar. "Dried bergamot peel, I think."
    Troth had never heard of it. "Bergamot?"
    "A fruit something like an orange." Maxwell added it to his substantial order, and they moved on to the last stop, the grandest silk showroom in the Settlement.
    The owner had heard of Lord Maxwell's expensive passage through Thirteen Factories Street and waited with deep anticipation for their arrival. When Troth brought Maxwell into the showroom, the owner bowed low.
    "You honor my humble shop, my lord. Pray allow me to show you my poor wares."
    At his nod, assistants began unwinding bolts of silk. Yards of shimmering fabric cascaded to the floor until the showroom was a festival of brilliant colors. After Maxwell chose two dozen bolts of the finest material in the shop, he said, "I should also like to purchase ladies' garments made in the Chinese style. Do you have any made up?"
    "A few." Another order, and a dozen finished robes were brought from the back of the shop and laid reverently across a table.
    The garments would not have disgraced the ladies of the imperial court in Peking. Trying to conceal her longing, Troth stroked an exquisite peach-colored robe made from kesi , a brocade with patterns woven into the fabric. "The quality is acceptable," she murmured, as if her only interest were in its value.
    Maxwell said, "That looks as if it might fit my brother's wife, and the color would be good on her."
    "A Fan-qui lady is so small?" Troth asked, surprised.
    "Meriel is, but my sister is tall." He lifted the largest garment, a brilliant scarlet splashed with embroidered flowers and butterflies. Probably it was a bridal robe, since red was a fortunate color and always worn for weddings.
    "Lucia is about your height."
    He held the robe up to Troth's shoulders. "Would a woman like this, Jin?" As soon as his fingers brushed her shoulders, a wave of energy pulsed through her, even stronger than when she'd shown him how to hold a calligraphy brush. In his eyes she saw the same shock. After a frozen moment, she said, "Your… your sister would surely be well pleased with such a magnificent gift, my lord."
    He swallowed, then stepped back and laid the scarlet robe across the table. "Thank you for your opinion."
    As he completed his purchases, she retreated to a corner of the showroom. He had not given away her identity—yet the fact that he knew she was a woman had changed everything between them. She could not be sorry.

    After the shopping expedition, Troth returned to her desk to complete her translating tasks, though she would have preferred to go home after a day that had been tiring in more ways than one. Shadows were darkening the office when she finished her work. She had just cleared her desk when Maxwell appeared and handed her a bulky paper-wrapped parcel. "For you. A small thanks for your help."
    Startled, she said, "I deserve no special gift for doing my duty, sir." His voice dropped so that no one else in the room could hear his words.
    "Last night you saved my life. Can I not give you a token of gratitude? " Understanding his desire not to be under an obligation, she said, "As you wish, my lord."
    "I wish. Good night, Jin." He gave her a private smile, then left the office. Though she burned with curiosity, she could not open the package in front of others. Expression carefully blank, she left the hong and crossed the river with a boatman who often transported her. Only the tightness of her grasp on the parcel revealed her excitement. She hadn't felt such anticipation since she was a child awaiting her father's return from a journey. Now that she was grown, she realized that what she'd felt was not