Chapter 41

Despite her late night at the cèilidh, Troth rose early enough the next morning to creep from the cottage and do her chi and wing chun routines. She half hoped that Kyle would come, but he didn't. He must have given up on her.

After the previous night's vigorous dancing, her muscles welcomed the gentler chi exercises. It was chilly, though. Even this far into spring, Scotland in the early morning was bracing. Not the best part of the world for outdoor exercise. Nonetheless, the familiar movements warmed and soothed her.

She was startled from dreaminess by her grandmother's voice. "Is this some kind of heathen dancing, lass?"

Troth spun around, a little embarrassed to have been caught in her loose Chinese garments. "It's not really dancing. In China it's believed that chi, the energy of life, is in all things, and the right kind of movement helps balance it."

Mairead's brows rose skeptically. "I suppose the exercise is good, if ye don't catch lung fever dancing about in those indecent trousers. I came out to see if ye'd like some breakfast after such a vigorous night."

"It was a wonderful cèilidh, and breakfast would be lovely." Shivering a little now that she wasn't moving, Troth accompanied her grandmother inside, then raced up to change into a dress while Mairead fried eggs and toasted bread.

Properly garbed, she enjoyed the meal and the relaxed time alone with her grandmother, since James and Jean were both away from home. She was just finishing her meal when Mairead disappeared for a moment, then returned and set a ribbon-tied bundle of papers on the scrubbed pine kitchen table.

"I thought ye might like to read some of yer father's letters," Mairead explained as she poured more tea.

Troth caught her breath as she took the first letter from the bundle. Plainly it had been read over and over again, but she would recognize her father's bold, clear hand anywhere. Since his own father had been a schoolteacher, he'd been taught to write well.

The first sentence said exultantly, We have a daughter! Li-Yin is well, though ashamed of not having given me a son, foolish girl. We've named the baby Troth Mei-Lian ("Beautiful Willow"), and I fell in love the instant I clapped eyes on her, for she's the bonniest infant imaginable.

Biting her lip, Troth read through the letters, hearing her father's voice in her ears. During her years in Canton, she had forgotten how well she had been loved as a child.

When tears blurred her eyes so much she could no longer read, her grandmother handed over a handkerchief. "Ye were the joy of his life, Troth. I only wish Hugh had lived long enough to bring ye home himself."

Troth buried her face in the soft, embroidery-edged square, wondering if it was a sign of pregnancy to cry so easily. "Thank you for letting me read the letters, Grandmother. I feel as if he's standing right here beside me."

"Sometimes when I couldna bear the thought that he was dead, I'd reread the letters and pretend he was alive and well on the other side of the world." Tenderly Mairead retied the ribbon around the bundle of letters. "It's nae good to outlive your children."

Feeling very close to her grandmother and wanting to talk about what was occupying her mind, Troth said hesitantly, "I… I think I may be with child."

Mairead glanced up swiftly. "Are ye sure?"

"It's too early to be sure-but my heart is convinced."

"Ye're probably right, then-a woman can know long before she has proof." Mairead smiled. "So ye'll be marrying Maxwell for good, then. I assume it's his-I wouldna like to think otherwise of my granddaughter."

"It's his, but I have my doubts about marrying him"

Mairead's brows drew together. "James talked to him, and Maxwell said he was willing to do the right thing. Is he a lying Sassenach?"

The right thing. Troth's resistance stiffened. "I'm sure he'd do his duty, but I don't want to be married from obligation. I don't know if I want to be married at all. I thought that with a handfast there was no shame to the woman if the couple decided not to stay together. Kyle doesn't have to know, since I can support my child without him."

"That's true for wild Highlanders, but handfasting is rare around here, especially for educated folk. What's wrong with Maxwell? Does he beat ye?"

"Good heavens, no! He's always been kind and considerate."

"Then ye'd better come up with a stronger reason for nae marrying him than romantic fancies." Mairead cocked her head. "Or is this some Chinese way of thinking?"

Troth smiled without humor. "Quite the opposite. In China I was told how I must behave for too many years, and don't want to be dictated to now."

"Ye're Hugh's daughter, right enough." Mairead drummed her fingers on the table. "Ye're a woman grown and we canna force ye to act against your will. But ye must think long and hard about the wisdom of going yer own way at any cost. It takes two people to make a baby. Will ye deprive yer child of his father, and Maxwell of his child? He doesna seem to be an uncaring man."

Troth never should have brought the subject up. Of course, pregnancy wasn't something that could be kept a secret for more than the first few months. "If I decide not to marry Maxwell, will I no longer be welcome here?"

Mairead's face softened. "Ye'll still be my granddaughter, lass. But there will be those in town who'd disapprove, handfast or no handfast. That could make life awkward for yer child if ye raise it here. And what would ye do if ye want more bairns?"

Troth's jaw set stubbornly. "I could marry someone else."

"I doubt there are many men around here that ye'd find to yer taste. I suppose ye could go to Edinburgh-my grandson Jamie moves in good circles, and maybe ye could meet a husband there." She stood and started tidying the table. "But ask yerself what ye'd want in a husband that Maxwell doesna have. He's enough to make a virtuous woman consider violating her vows."

"Grandmother!" Troth said, scandalized.

The old woman smiled mischievously. "I may be an eighty-year-old widow, but I'm nae dead yet, lass. If ye don't want Maxwell, I may decide to find out if he fancies older women."

Laughing, Troth retreated to her attic to pack for her trip to the Highlands. But a small, stubborn core of her resisted the idea of marrying Kyle simply because it was what everyone expected. She'd come to Britain to find freedom. She'd not yield it easily now.

"We'll see ye in a fortnight or so then." Mairead hugged Troth hard. Troth hugged back, then turned to embrace her aunt Jean. She was already missing them and she hadn't even left. Most of her possessions and Pearl Blossom would remain here, waiting for her return. The mere fact that her trunks were entitled to stay under this roof made her glow with warmth.

"I shall take good care of her, I promise," Kyle said.

"See that ye do," Mairead said gruffly as Kyle helped Troth into the rugged little curricle he'd hired for the trip to Kinnockburn.

Troth knelt backward on her seat, waving until she was out of sight of her grandmother and aunt. When she could no longer see them, she turned and settled down. "I hope that Pearl Blossom will be all right while I'm gone."

"I'm sure she will be. Your grandmother raised four children, she can certainly look after one undersized cat for a fortnight. Even one as hell-bent on trouble as Pearl Blossom." Kyle turned the carriage from the lane onto the main road through Melrose. "Have you decided to live here?"