Dominic made a choked sound as he stared at the chaise with agonizing intensity.

What on earth…?

Abruptly he urged his horse into a gallop and tore down the hill at breakneck speed. After a startled moment, Meriel raced after him.

Wondering what the devil was going on, Troth followed at a more sedate pace. Was some cherished relative visiting? That carriage didn't belong to Wrexham or Lady Lucia and her husband-Troth would have recognized those.

Dominic intersected the road and waved the driver of the chaise to a halt, then vaulted from his horse and wrenched the vehicle's door open. A thin figure emerged, almost falling into Dominic's arms.

Gods above, it couldn't be. It couldn't be!

Heart hammering, Troth kicked her mount into a wild gallop, clinging to the saddle desperately as she raced to join the small group by the chaise.

It couldn't be-but it was. Face haggard, Kyle was embracing his brother as tears ran down Dominic's face.

Barely managing to pull Cinnamon safely to a halt, Troth dismounted in a flurry of skirts, then hesitated, feeling it would be wrong to interrupt the brothers' reunion. Throat tight, she whispered, "This can't be happening."

Meriel glanced at her. "You didn't actually see him die."

Her comment cut to the heart of what had happened. Troth had heard the sentence of death, and listened to the blasting guns-but she hadn't seen Kyle die. She pressed one hand to her mouth as she accepted that miraculously Kyle was truly here, gaunt but alive. Alive!

Kyle turned toward the women, though Dominic kept one arm around him, as much for support as from affection. It wasn't hard to tell the twins apart now-while Dominic glowed with health, Kyle looked as though he'd just risen from a sickbed.

Troth's desire to embrace him was checked when he looked at her with blank, shadowed eyes. Dear heaven, he couldn't have forgotten her! Or perhaps- her stomach cramped as if she'd been kicked-he no longer wished to see her.

Then a faint smile curved his lips. "Troth. I'm glad you made it here safely."

At least he had acknowledged her. In England as in China, public affection between husband and wife was frowned upon. Even a couple as devoted as Dominic and Meriel were usually restrained in the presence of others. Telling herself that he was only following English custom, she stammered, "I… I was sure you were dead, my lord."

"I never really believed you were gone, Kyle," Dominic said, his face radiant. "Yet after listening to Troth's story of your execution, I had to."

"I almost was. Strange sense of humor, Wu Chong. He had a fondness for mock executions." Kyle shrugged. " Because of Troth's messages to Chenqua and the Company, I was rescued from Feng-tang before malaria could put paid to my account."

He stepped away from his brother and almost fell. Alarmed, Dominic caught him again. "You look like death walking."

"It's not that bad, Dom," Kyle muttered as he swayed on his feet. "Malaria takes a long time to fully heal. Troth will know how it's treated."

"I'm sure she does, but you're coming up to the house right now. I'll ride with you. Meriel, will you lead my horse back?" Not waiting for an answer, Dominic half lifted his brother into the chaise and they set off again.

It was the illness that made Kyle so unresponsive, Troth decided. He was exhausted by his imprisonment and the long journey home, and malaria was not a disease that one recovered from quickly.

Nonetheless, she felt a deep sense of hurt as she led Cinnamon to a rock so she could remount. He'd treated her like a casual acquaintance, not a cherished wife.

As she scrambled into her sidesaddle, awareness of what his return meant struck with the force of a blow: Kyle had proposed marriage only to protect her-he'd never intended for her to actually be his wife. She'd been his mistress. If not for his death sentence, that was all she would ever have been. Her hands began to tremble.

Meriel swung onto her own mount easily. "You mustn't be upset about the bond between Dominic and Kyle," she said gravely. "It takes nothing away from you or me. I think their closeness has made them better able to love their wives."

Troth swallowed hard, not sure whether to be glad or sorry that Meriel was so adept at reading minds. "Perhaps their bond takes nothing from you, but Dominic loves you. With Kyle and me… it's different."

Meriel started up the drive, leading Dominic's mount. "Different, yes. You never had the chance to know each other in normal circumstances." She glanced at Troth. "But you love him, and he would never have suggested marriage if he didn't care deeply for you. For now, he's exhausted from illness and travel. Have patience."

Troth had no other choice. But as she headed up the drive, she remembered bleakly her dream of her husband miraculously returning from the dead and sweeping her into his arms. Such a fool she'd been.

The marriage contracted with honorable intentions had gone disastrously wrong.


Kyle awoke gasping from a nightmare of Wu Chong's prison to find a warm female body lying beside him. The light of the bedside candle showed a cloud of dark hair spilling onto his shoulder. Fully dressed, Troth lay beside him on top of the covers. She must have been sitting up with the invalid and decided to rest for a bit.

It took every remaining shred of will not to roll over and put his arms around her. Not from passion-desire had died in Feng-tang. Yet he still had a weak, desperate craving to cling to her for comfort, especially when images of horror racked his mind.

On the long voyage home to England, he'd had ample time to think about Troth. If their marriage had been unquestionably legal, they'd have had no choice but to make the best of the situation, but the legality was doubtful at best. That meant it was his duty to release her from an obligation that had never been intended to last more than a few hours. She wanted-and deserved-freedom to choose her own life.

Yet now that she had been publicly and privately accepted as Lady Maxwell, it would be damnably difficult to undo their union without a scandal. Kyle owed Troth an unblemished name as well as freedom.

He'd hoped not to find her at Warfield. Ideally, she'd made it safely to England, brought the news of his death to Dominic, then gone on her way to Scotland, so he wouldn't be confronted with the temptation of seeing her again.

He'd been stunned when he saw her with Dominic and Meriel. In her riding habit she'd looked so beautiful and English that at first he hadn't recognized her. Shy Jin Kang and gallant Mei-Lian had vanished completely. If not for her wonderful Oriental eyes, he'd have thought she was some fashionable friend of Meriel's.

He pulled a quilt folded up at the foot of the bed over her. While the day had been springlike, night was definitely wintry. As he draped the quilt over her, he had a vivid recollection of her laughing as they made love. But that passion and playfulness seemed to have happened to another man. Now he was a stranger to her, and to himself.

Though he'd tried not to disturb Troth, her eyes fluttered open and she regarded him with unmistakable wariness. "Dominic stayed with you until Meriel dragged him away to give me a chance. I hope you are feeling better, my lord?"

"Much." Her apprehension was painful. He must reassure her that he didn't intend to force her to a bargain she had never intended. "I'm sorry, Troth. I made a terrible mess of things. In my arrogance, I thought I could visit Hoshan and return to Macao with no trouble. Instead, I almost got you killed, caused enormous suffering for my family, and cost Chenqua a lot of money and the European traders a huge amount of face. All because I wouldn't listen to reason."

"What's done can't be undone," she said pragmatically. "Tell me what happened."

Tersely he described the sham executions, confining himself to the facts. Even months later under cover of darkness, he couldn't bear to speak of his shameful fear and misery. Especially not to her.

"Then Chenqua rescued you?"

"Yes, though it took time. At first there was no rush because I was presumed dead, so the viceroy and his bureaucrats moved slowly. As soon as Chenqua learned I hadn't been executed, he sent his oldest son and his personal physician to Feng-tang along with a company of Bannermen in case Wu Chong proved difficult." Kyle smiled humorlessly. "Apparently the prefect was all bland cooperation. But of course they could take the foreign devil. He'd written to Peking for instructions-sending his letter by donkey cart, I suspect-but if the viceroy was willing to take responsibility for the prisoner, Wu was delighted to oblige. Not that I learned any of this until much later."

"What about Chenqua?"

"He scolded me as if I were a misbehaving schoolboy and refused to let me reimburse him for the fine he'd paid on my behalf."

"Was he angry about what I'd done?" Troth's elegant face was still as marble.

"He said he'd miss your kung fu." Knowing how important this must be to her, he said slowly, "I felt that he was very sorry to lose you, and not only because you were useful to him. Not angry at all. Just… sorry, and wishing you well."

Her expression eased. "I'm glad."

"Did you have any problems after you left Feng-tang?"

"None. Gavin Elliott was wonderful, and your whole family has been very kind, even the old dragon, your father."

"The old dragon-what a good name for him. He might be arriving at any moment, by the way. As soon as I reached England, I sent messages to him and my sister." He should have gone to Dornleigh first, but he'd never considered doing that. The lifelong bond between him and his brother was stronger than his often strained relationship with the earl. Stronger even than duty.