of Lord Maxwell."
He frowned. "Tell me."
She gave a succinct explanation, starting with the message from Teng and ending with her helping Maxwell back to his hong. She told everything except that the Englishman had discovered her true identity, and not only because Chenqua would be displeased. Speaking of that rare interval of honesty would destroy its magic.
After she finished, Chenqua asked, "Did you recognize any of the attackers?"
"One was Xun Kee, of the Red Dragon gang. I think they were all Red Dragons."
He stroked his beard. "Zhan Hu, the Red Dragon leader, would never condone such an attack—it must have been a private commission. I shall consult Zhan. Between us, we shall learn who hired these louts, and assure that they are suitably punished."
Troth felt a chill down her spine. Her identification had just condemned half a dozen men to torture and death. Though they undoubtedly deserved it, she was enough her father's child to deplore the ferocity of Chinese justice.
Chenqua continued, "You must protect Lord Maxwell until he leaves Canton. Stay close to him. Enlist Elliott's aid to achieve that if necessary—he will also be concerned for Maxwell's continued health."
Dismayed, she knelt before him. "Please, lord, choose another. I am not worthy of so great a responsibility."
"You saved him from six Red Dragons bent on murder. There are few men in Canton who could do as much, and none are in my employ." Instead of accepting dismissal, she said, "Maxwell is more perceptive than most Fan-qui . I fear that if I spend much time with him, he may see through my disguise."
Chenqua gave her a faint, dry smile. "I have faith in your ability to deceive him."
She bowed again, then withdrew, weary to the bone from fatigue and the bruises she'd acquired in the fight. Though Maxwell and Chenqua had been impressed by her performance, she knew that it had largely been the element of surprise that enabled her to prevail against so many. She'd certainly taken her share of blows.
In her room, she undressed and donned a cotton robe, then released her hair and gazed into the mirror. The image that looked back at her was harsh and unattractive, but it was undeniably the face of a woman, not sexless Jin Kang.
Slowly she ran her fingers through her hair, loosening it into waves that fell to her waist. What about her had brought that intensity into Maxwell's gaze? Her sheer strangeness, probably. Yet for a moment she let herself believe it had been admiration. If nothing else, at least he had not been shocked by the fact that she was a mongrel.
Are you content with your life ? She turned from the mirror. Of course she was content. Only a fool yearned after the impossible.
Have you ever wished to visit your father's land ? Dear gods, how she had wished for that! For the first dozen years of her life she'd looked forward to the day when her father would take her to Scotland as his acknowledged daughter. She had not known then how doting a parent he was compared to most. In his eyes, she had been beautiful, and while his uncritical love had not prepared her for what others would think, she could not be sorry that she had been his beloved pet. If only he had not died…
Wishes could not change fate. She knelt before the small altar and lighted three joss sticks in honor of her father and mother. The scent of the burning sandalwood soothed her. She was fortunate to be part of a powerful household, to be educated in two languages from birth when many Chinese women could not even read or write, and to have the freedom to move around Canton. She would have gone mad if Chenqua had turned her into a maidservant who was never allowed to leave the compound.
But was this the life her father would have wanted for her? She watched the smoke spiral up from the glowing tips of the joss sticks. He would have been grateful that Chenqua had saved her from starvation— with her looks, she would not have been desirable as even the lowest kind of
He frowned. "Tell me."
She gave a succinct explanation, starting with the message from Teng and ending with her helping Maxwell back to his hong. She told everything except that the Englishman had discovered her true identity, and not only because Chenqua would be displeased. Speaking of that rare interval of honesty would destroy its magic.
After she finished, Chenqua asked, "Did you recognize any of the attackers?"
"One was Xun Kee, of the Red Dragon gang. I think they were all Red Dragons."
He stroked his beard. "Zhan Hu, the Red Dragon leader, would never condone such an attack—it must have been a private commission. I shall consult Zhan. Between us, we shall learn who hired these louts, and assure that they are suitably punished."
Troth felt a chill down her spine. Her identification had just condemned half a dozen men to torture and death. Though they undoubtedly deserved it, she was enough her father's child to deplore the ferocity of Chinese justice.
Chenqua continued, "You must protect Lord Maxwell until he leaves Canton. Stay close to him. Enlist Elliott's aid to achieve that if necessary—he will also be concerned for Maxwell's continued health."
Dismayed, she knelt before him. "Please, lord, choose another. I am not worthy of so great a responsibility."
"You saved him from six Red Dragons bent on murder. There are few men in Canton who could do as much, and none are in my employ." Instead of accepting dismissal, she said, "Maxwell is more perceptive than most Fan-qui . I fear that if I spend much time with him, he may see through my disguise."
Chenqua gave her a faint, dry smile. "I have faith in your ability to deceive him."
She bowed again, then withdrew, weary to the bone from fatigue and the bruises she'd acquired in the fight. Though Maxwell and Chenqua had been impressed by her performance, she knew that it had largely been the element of surprise that enabled her to prevail against so many. She'd certainly taken her share of blows.
In her room, she undressed and donned a cotton robe, then released her hair and gazed into the mirror. The image that looked back at her was harsh and unattractive, but it was undeniably the face of a woman, not sexless Jin Kang.
Slowly she ran her fingers through her hair, loosening it into waves that fell to her waist. What about her had brought that intensity into Maxwell's gaze? Her sheer strangeness, probably. Yet for a moment she let herself believe it had been admiration. If nothing else, at least he had not been shocked by the fact that she was a mongrel.
Are you content with your life ? She turned from the mirror. Of course she was content. Only a fool yearned after the impossible.
Have you ever wished to visit your father's land ? Dear gods, how she had wished for that! For the first dozen years of her life she'd looked forward to the day when her father would take her to Scotland as his acknowledged daughter. She had not known then how doting a parent he was compared to most. In his eyes, she had been beautiful, and while his uncritical love had not prepared her for what others would think, she could not be sorry that she had been his beloved pet. If only he had not died…
Wishes could not change fate. She knelt before the small altar and lighted three joss sticks in honor of her father and mother. The scent of the burning sandalwood soothed her. She was fortunate to be part of a powerful household, to be educated in two languages from birth when many Chinese women could not even read or write, and to have the freedom to move around Canton. She would have gone mad if Chenqua had turned her into a maidservant who was never allowed to leave the compound.
But was this the life her father would have wanted for her? She watched the smoke spiral up from the glowing tips of the joss sticks. He would have been grateful that Chenqua had saved her from starvation— with her looks, she would not have been desirable as even the lowest kind of
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