The China Bride by Mary Jo Putney

stirrings and wanting to please, she had obediently done as Chenqua requested.
    By the time she arrived in Canton, Troth Montgomery had been replaced by Jin Kang, who was useful as Mei-Lian never would have been. She'd accepted her life in Canton without question, grateful for the security of Chenqua's household. Though he was a distant master with high standards, he had not been unkind to a penniless orphan. He'd been the anchor of her existence ever since, and he treated her differently from any other member of his household.
    Spending so much time with the Fan-qui traders had allowed her to keep her English language and nature alive, yet her life was narrow and had few rewards beyond security. Did she want to stay Chenqua's sexless spy forever? As a child she had thought in English and considered herself more Scottish than Chinese. Though she'd spent more than half of her life in Canton and now thought in Chinese, her Scottish nature endured. It might not be too late to seek a place in her father's land.
    Starting over in a strange country without friends or money would not be easy. Even finding the fare would be difficult, though she would probably have enough if she sold all of her possessions. Could she bear to sell her mother's jewelry and the beautiful robe Maxwell had just given her? The thought was wrenching.
    Even if she could book a place on a Fan-qui ship, leaving Canton would be difficult. Chenqua would not willingly allow her to go as long as she was useful to him.
    Might one of the Fan-qui traders help her, perhaps hire her to do translation in Britain? She frowned. Possibly one of the East India Company men might find work for Jin Kang, but she doubted they would be pleased to know she had deceived them all these years. Yet she could not bear the thought of continuing as Jin Kang when much of her reason for going to Britain was so she could live as a woman.
    She sighed as she thought of all the problems that would have to be overcome if she traveled to her father's land. Perhaps the freedom to live as she wished was within her grasp. But did she have the courage and wisdom to reach for it?
    She feared she did not.

Chapter 10
    « ^ »
    England
    December 1832

    Exhausted from tears and troubled sleep, Troth was dozing when a tap on the door heralded a maid with a breakfast tray. The pearly light in the bedroom indicated that it was another dreary, overcast morning. The maid crossed to the bed, her expression uncertain. "Lady likee-likee tea?"
    Where had the girl learned such an absurd parody of pidgin? Troth said rather dryly, "Tea would be very nice, thank you."
    The maid flushed scarlet. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I'd heard you were a foreigner."
    "True, but some foreigners do speak English." Not wanting to embarrass the girl further, she asked, "Your name is… ?"
    "Sally, ma'am." She set the bed tray over Troth's lap, trying to conceal her fascinated gaze. Troth had received many such glances—and blatant stares, too—on the voyage and after her arrival in Britain. Had there ever been a Chinese visitor to Shropshire? Even in London, she had been an oddity.
    "Would you like anything else, Lady Maxwell?"
    "No, thank you, Sally. This should suffice."
    The maid bowed and left Troth with a breakfast tray that included bacon, eggs, and sausage, plus warm bread, butter, and marmalade. She'd become accustomed to such British breakfasts, though a meal still seemed incomplete without rice. Hungry, she ate everything and emptied the teapot, which contained quite a nice Young Hyson variety.
    Ready to face the day, she rose from the bed and found that the dress she'd worn the day before had been brushed and laid out on a chair. The rest of her paltry possessions were folded in the clothespress. Warfield Park took good care of its guests.
    After dressing, she emerged from her room to find Lady Grahame curled up in a chair opposite the door, reading a book. This morning the countess wore a simple green gown, and her