Leaving the temple, they went into the gardens behind. Designed in a series of grottoes ideal for contemplation, they were exquisite. In a small rockery of fantastically shaped stones, Troth said under her breath, "Would you mind waiting here for a few minutes? I want to go into Kuan Yin's garden and pay my respects before we leave."

"Of course." He settled on a bench in the shadow of a miniature mountain made of raw stone, glad she was moved to her own private worship.

It was peaceful in the rockery. The chanting was so faint that the sound might have come from another world. Nearer to hand was the faint splashing of a small waterfall that fell from the piled rocks into a pool. Bright birds he didn't recognize bathed in the water, singing joyfully. Since there was no one about, he turned and slid the bandage from his eyes so he could see Hoshan clearly once before leaving. It was even lovelier when not viewed through a haze of gauze.

His serenity suffered a severe jolt when an elderly monk entered the rockery, his footsteps inaudible over the songs of the bathing birds. The old man glanced at Kyle and froze in his tracks.

Damnation! Kyle swore at himself for forgetting the practical realities of his situation. In the afternoon sun his blue eyes were unmistakable, and once they had been seen, it was easy to discern European features under the swaddling bandages.

He reached inside for calm, and found it, along with a possible solution. Before the monk could raise a cry, Kyle stood and pressed his hands together in front of his chest in the classic Indian greeting of goodwill. "Namaste," he said quietly, bowing as he would have in India.

Recognizing the gesture, the monk's lined face relaxed into acceptance. Putting his hands together, he repeated, "Namaste."

Kyle bowed again, doing his best to convey sincerity and harmlessness, then withdrew from the rockery. He met Troth as she returned from the Kuan Yin shrine. "I was careless and a monk saw me for a Fan-qui," he said tersely. "I don't think he'll raise the alarm, but it's probably best to leave immediately."

Wasting no time with questions or recriminations, she took his arm and marched him to the landing. One of the boats was about to leave, so they found places and in a few minutes they were back on the shore.

They'd debated whether to spend a night at the lakeshore guesthouse, but now that was out of the question. Sheng was separated from his fodder and soon they were winding their way back along the track. This late in the day, there was little traffic. Kyle calculated that they should leave the treacherous track just as darkness fell. They could stay at the tiny mountain inn where they'd slept the night before.

When they reached the spur of the mountain that would block their view of the temple, he said, "Wait."

Troth nodded, and they both turned for a last look at Hoshan. In the waning light, it looked even more unreal than it had on their journey in. "I don't see any signs of pursuit." Kyle briefly explained what had happened, adding, "I felt at the time that the monk accepted me as an honest seeker and was unworried by the fact that I was an illicit foreign devil."

"Probably he was gratified at the knowledge that a foreigner would come so far and risk so much to worship here." Troth smiled. "Or maybe he thought from your gesture that you were an Indian, not a European. Whatever the reason, the peace of Buddha reigned there."

Kyle hesitated, then asked a question that he'd wondered about for some time. "How would you describe your religious faith, Troth?"

"My father raised me as a good Scottish Presbyterian, and that is my first faith," she said slowly. "But in China, one can follow more than one path. In my readings, I've found much in common between the Buddha and Christ, so I feel no conflict in my soul when I offer my prayers to Kuan Yin and the Buddha." She glanced at him. "Has Hoshan transformed you into a Buddhist?"

"Not really." He thought of an Italian painting in the Dornleigh gallery. A crucifixion scene, it depicted Christ with a spirituality as powerful as that of the Hoshan Buddha. He'd always been drawn to the painting, and now he knew why. "But I think that for the first time in my life, I am truly a Christian."

After a silent farewell, he turned away from the sacred valley and resumed climbing. The yearning that had drawn him to Hoshan had been perhaps the truest impulse of his life.

Chapter 23

Though Kyle's mistake at Hoshan hadn't brought on pursuit, as a precaution Troth chose a different route back to Canton. Not only did it take them through new country, but it would extend their journey by several days. That knowledge was a guilty pleasure, for every hour in his company was a delight. She had never been so happy as she was now, traveling with a man who fully accepted who she was.

On the third evening after leaving Hoshan, they approached the small city of Feng-tang. She frowned at the sight of the high mud-brick walls. "Perhaps we should go around. This is a second-class prefecture city, so there will be many government officials and troops."

"We made it through Canton safely, and that's far larger. Besides, to avoid Feng-tang we'd have to backtrack for miles or flounder through rice paddies, which would certainly irritate the owners. Safer to carry on as humble travelers."

With a nod, Troth tugged at Sheng's bridle and they continued into Feng-tang. Her disquiet returned when they passed through the western gate into a street teeming with people. Children raced by with scarlet paper streamers while their elders chattered with friends or watched street entertainers. As Sheng shied away from the explosion of a bamboo firecracker, Kyle asked softly, "What's going on?"

She glanced at the dragon kites soaring overhead. "Some kind of local festival. I'll ask when we register at the inn."

They were turned away from two inns before they got the last room at a third. The innkeeper was happy to answer questions, so when they were safe in their quarters Troth reported, "The local prefect is named Wu Chong, and this festival is for the birth of his first son. Apparently Wu is well along in years and none of his wives had borne him a child, so he's celebrating with offerings at all the city temples, a street fair, and a parade with a lion dance tonight."

"A lion dance? Let's go out later and watch." Kyle unwound the bandage from his head with practiced hands. She always loved the moment when he went from being grandfather to lover. Her lover.

She bit her lip, considering. "We should avoid public events. The festival will have drinking and rowdiness."

"I have faith in your ability to protect me." He removed the wig and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'd really like to see a festival. During Chinese New Year I kept looking out toward Canton and wishing I could join the celebrations."

She gave him a long, slow smile. "Persuade me."

"And what form should that persuasion take, my shameless one?" Eyes gleaming, he crossed the small room in two strides and scooped her into his arms. "Do you want to be ravished?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh, please!"

He had her tunic off before they reached the bed, and her trousers went flying moments later. How very deft he was, she thought breathlessly as he dedicated himself to a thorough ravishing. Sometimes she wanted to ask him if such fierce pleasure was normal between two people, but she didn't dare. She wanted to think that this was special, and that when they came together she was the only woman in his world as he was the only man in hers.