And the Bride Wore Red by Lucy Gordon Page B

there now as he regarded her picture. He was almost in tears over the little sister who had meant the world to him, and who he’d last seen when she was eighteen, departing for ever with the man she loved.
    â€˜And that’s him?’ Olivia asked as an Englishman appeared in the pictures.
    â€˜That’s John Mitchell, my grandfather,’ Lang agreed.
    He seemed about twenty-three, not particularly handsome but with a broad, hearty face and a smile that beamed with good nature. Meihui’s eyes, as she gazed at him, were alight with joy.
    Then there were photographs that she had sent from England: herself and John Mitchell, proudly holding their new-born son, Lang’s father. Then the child growing up, standing between his parents, until his father vanished because death had taken him far too soon. After that it was just Meihui and her son, until he married, and soon his own son appeared, a toddler in his father’s arms.
    â€˜Let’s leave them,’ Lang groaned.
    â€˜But you were a delightful child!’ Olivia protested.
    He gave a grimace of pure masculine embarrassment, and she hastily controlled her mirth.
    It was true that he seemed to have been a pleasant youngster, but even then his face held a sense of resolution beyond his years, already heralding the man he would become.
    There were some pictures with his parents, then with his mother after his father’s death, but mostly they showed the young Lang with Meihui. Then he appeared with his new family after his mother’s remarriage. Looking at them, Olivia understood what he’d meant about not having been at ease. His stepfather looked as though he had much good nature, but no subtlety, and his offspring were the same. Standing in their midst, the young Lang smiled with the courteous determination of a misfit.
    He grew older, graduated from school and passed his medical exams. One picture especially caught Olivia’s attention—it showed him sitting down while Meihui stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders, her face beaming with pride. At that moment she had been the happiest woman in the world. Instead of looking at the camera, Lang was glancing up, connecting with her.
    â€˜No wonder your family recognised you at the airport,’ she murmured, drawing him slightly aside. ‘Thanks to Meihui, they’d been with you every step of the way while you were growing up.’
    â€˜Yes, they said much the same. It made me feel very much at home.’
    He spoke just loud enough for Biyu to hear, making herglance up and smile. He smiled back, yet strangely Olivia sensed a hint of tension in him, the last thing she’d expected. Now she thought about it, she felt there was a watchfulness about him tonight that wasn’t usually there.
    She wondered if she was the cause of his concern, lest she make a bad impression, but his manner towards her was full of pride. What was troubling him, then? she wondered.
    As they left the room, Biyu announced, ‘Now I’m going to show you our special place, devoted to Jaio and Renshu. I know Lang has told you about them.’
    â€˜Yes, it must be wonderful having such a great family tradition, going back so far.’
    â€˜It is. We have mementoes of them which normally we keep locked away for safety, but in your honour we have brought them out.’ She gave a teasing smile. ‘Lang tells us that you may need a little convincing.’
    â€˜Oh, did he? Just wait until I see him.’
    â€˜You mean, it isn’t true?’ Biyu asked.
    â€˜Of course—Well, I think it’s a lovely story.’
    â€˜But perhaps a little unreal?’ Biyu sighed. ‘The world is so prosaic these days. People no longer believe in a love so great that it conquers everything. But few families have been as fortunate as we. We keep our mementoes because they are our treasures, not in the worldly way, but treasures of the heart. Come, let me show you our