The China Bride (33 page)

"My father had gout.
Tui Na
, Chinese massage, usually helped him," Troth explained.

"I'll be damned if I'll let you practice your heathen ways on me!"

"As you wish, my lord." She bowed and started to withdraw.

"Wait." Wrexham's voice stopped her. "What would you do?" The old dragon must be in dire straits to listen. "Lines of energy run through the body. Pressing in the right places can change the energy flow and relieve pain, sometimes even cure a condition. But I'm not a trained healer, you understand. I simply know the specific techniques for gout." She gestured at his right leg. "I would press very hard on several spots on the inside of your ankle. With luck, the pain might be reduced." The earl shifted awkwardly in his chair. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try. But you go back to our guests, Maxwell. Can't have both of us gone." Kyle gave Troth an encouraging glance as he left. She beckoned Wrexham's valet closer. "Watch what I do. If this helps, you'll be able to do the same in the future."

Nervous but game, the valet watched as Troth knelt and pressed her thumb hard on a spot inside the earl's ankle. The old man flinched, his fingers digging into the chair arms, but didn't ask her to stop. Hoping she remembered the pressure points correctly, she set to work, quietly explaining what she was doing to the valet. When she'd done as much as she could, she got to her feet. "Do you feel any better?" Wrexham eyed her suspiciously. "There's less pain, but that might have diminished anyway."

"Quite possible," she agreed. "Good night, Lord Wrexham." Once more he halted her before she could leave the room. "Actually, the pain has gone down quite a bit," he said in a gruff voice. "Why did you help?"

"It is a good Christian deed to help one's enemies." She gave a glinting smile. "And when one does, the enemy suffers remorse." Wrexham gave a bark of laughter. "I can't believe I thought you were bland."

"You never tried to know me, my lord." She bowed, then withdrew, knowing that she'd earned some respect from the old dragon. Not that it mattered, for soon she would be gone. But she wouldn't mind if he suffered pangs of remorse for his behavior.

Despite her late night, Troth rose early the next morning to do her
chi
exercises. The air was misty with a chill that bit to the bone, so she had to move to stay warm.

She was starting her second form when Kyle appeared and silently began to copy her movements. She wasn't sure whether to be amused or irritated.

"You have a long way to go before mastering this, my lord," she said dryly as she began the slow, sinuous pattern called "cloud arms."

"Which means I'd better take the opportunity to learn from the only expert in Britain." He duplicated her graceful movements, wincing a little.

"I'm still sore from riding. Do you mind my joining your practices? I promise not to talk, though I'll understand if you prefer to be alone with the
chi
and the mist."

She had been enjoying her solitude, yet his offer to leave made her realize that she enjoyed his company more. "As you wish. By the way, how is Lord Wrexham?"

"Well enough to leave for London today." Kyle grinned. "You impressed him."

Glad the old dragon wouldn't be around for her remaining time at Dornleigh, she resumed her tai chi routine. Kyle was quick, and he remembered his lessons from the trip to Hoshan. By the time she left Dornleigh, he'd be reasonably competent. The exercise would help restore his energy balance, which was still somewhat blocked.

Sliding into a meditative state, she half forgot his presence as she moved through faster and faster exercises. Then she saw him fold onto the damp turf, clutching his side. "Kyle!" She spun around and dropped to her knees beside him, placing her hand on his forehead. "Are you having a malaria attack? "

"Nothing so dramatic," he panted, clutching his ribs with one hand. "Just a stitch in my side from too much exertion. I'm in wretchedly poor condition, Troth."

She sat back on her heels. "Actually, you're quite lively for a dead man."

"News of my death was greatly exaggerated." Warily he straightened his torso. "The worst thing about malaria, I think, is how long it takes to recover. I had my last attack somewhere around the Cape of Good Hope, but even months later, I'd lose if I wrestled a good-size puppy."

"I could defeat you with both hands tied behind my back," she agreed.

"Humiliating but true." He lurched to his feet, wincing. "I'd better stop for today before I have to be carried home on a hurdle."

"I've done enough for one morning also." The sun had burned off the mist, and the morning was acquiring some warmth, at least by the standards of a British spring. "Until later then. I want to explore the gardens. With the rain, I've seen very little."

He fell into step beside her as she started walking. "Planning how to change them to improve the feng shui?"

"I doubt much can be done in the time I have left—a good garden must be shaped over many years. Perhaps something could be done with water, though. Waterfalls and pools are restful."

His gaze went to the gray bulk of the house. "I've thought of building an orangery like the one at Warfield. Would that be good feng shui?"

"It could be. If you wish to continue with
chi
exercises, you should include an area in the conservatory where you can practice surrounded by living things. Very good
chi
, and most useful to have an indoor exercise area, given the beastly weather you have on this little island."

"Perhaps you could help with the design." He guided her down a brick walkway toward the rear of the gardens. "Can you explain the underlying principles of feng shui to me, or is it too complicated?"

"I'm not an expert, you understand. But the subject interested me, so when I saw a feng shui practitioner at work, I would follow and ask questions." Where to start? She thought about the
ba-gua
and its division into sectors, the myriad rules that governed color, form, placement, and every other aspect of the environment.

Remembering what an old Macanese geomancer had told her when she was a child, she said, "Basically, feng shui is intended to encourage a healthy balance of energy throughout a structure, and in the process to improve one's joss, one's fortune. Warfield Park has very good
chi
. Meriel had never heard of feng shui, but she and Dominic are sensitive to their surroundings, so the choices they've made have produced happy results. The same was true before their time, I think. Warfield seems like a house that has been much loved by those who live there."

"While Dornleigh has been endured, not loved. Where would you make changes?"

She looked back at the house, which loomed across the horizon. "I'd put in climbing vines to soften all those hard edges. It will take time for them to grow, but eventually they would make the house more welcoming."

"Ivy. What a simple solution." He studied the gray stone structure. "What else?"

"Sharp edges and angles are disruptive. In particular, the driveway runs straight from the entry gate to Dornleigh's front entrance. That is a 'poison arrow,' and it strikes to the heart of the house." She gave him a slanting glance, wondering if he would balk at her advice. "Change the course of the drive so it curves gently in front of the house."

He thought about it. "It would be hard to move the lower part of the drive because it runs between the rows of chestnuts, but the upper part can be curved without much trouble, and I think it will look better. Would that be good enough?"

She nodded, once more impressed at his flexibility. "Those changes would help the exterior greatly. Indoors, much can be done with the arrangement of furniture and changes in colors and draperies. Almost anything would be an improvement."

"Can I follow you around and ask questions?"

She almost smiled. He was definitely recovering some of his interest in life. "As you wish. Just remember that I don't have all the answers." If nothing else, when she was gone Kyle would be left with a happier house. Leading her under a trellised arch of climbing roses, the vines winter-barren, he asked, "What about this little Greek temple? It's called a folly, and was a favorite retreat for Dom and me."

She nodded approvingly as she stepped into the grassy clearing. "Very nice as it is. One can feel the good
chi
."

He was beginning to understand the correlation of good
chi
with a pleasant, appealing environment. What a treasure Troth was. Too much had happened to ever recover the closeness they'd shared on the journey to Hoshan; he could feel the barriers she'd put up. But at least they were now civil with each other. Friendly, even.

As they walked toward the circular temple, a tiny creature raced out and ran across Troth's feet. Her face lit up and she knelt, waggling her fingers.

"A kitten! Will you come to me, little one?"

It was a fat-tailed little beast, mostly gray with a white bib, paws, and whiskers. When it charged Troth playfully, she scooped it into her hands.

"What a darling! Do you know where this kitten is from?"

"The stables. I've seen her playing there with her brothers and sisters. She's the friendliest of her litter. Adventurous, too, to come this far." The kitten scrambled up Troth's sleeve and came to rest on her shoulder, small white whiskers quivering with curiosity. Troth scratched between the pointed ears. "We had a dog when I lived in Macao. I'm not sure what happened to him when I left and the household was closed down, but I've always feared that he ended up in a cooking pot."

Kyle shuddered. He knew the Chinese ate dog meat, and logically it wasn't that different from eating rabbits or pigeons, but he was too English not to find the thought abhorrent. "Perhaps your dog ended up guarding another house."

"I hope so. Watchdogs were treated well because they were useful. I wanted a pet at Chenqua's, but it was impossible to keep anything other than a cricket or a small bird, which was not what I wanted." Kyle swallowed as he watched the unconscious sensuality in the way she rubbed her cheek against the soft fur. "You can have this kitten. She's old enough to leave her mother, and I'm sure the stable has cats to spare." Her face briefly glowed with the bright pleasure he remembered from the journey to Hoshan. "Oh, Kyle, can I?"

"I suspect that Malloy, the head groom, will thank you for taking a kitten off his hands." He'd gladly shower Troth with diamonds, but if a small, living gift could produce such a smile, she could have every kitten in the kingdom.

"Do you love that sofa?" Troth asked.

Kyle contemplated the item in question, a relic of the so-called Egyptian style of several decades earlier. The sofa had been in the morning room as long as he could remember, and he'd accepted it as an unalterable fact of life.

"I do not love that sofa. In fact, I dislike it excessively. The crocodile feet have a certain peculiar charm, but it's horribly uncomfortable, and that's a really vile shade of green."

"Then out it goes." Troth gestured to a pair of footmen, who dutifully lifted the sofa and lumbered out of the room with it.

Over the past fortnight, she had worked her way through the main rooms of the house, following several basic feng shui principles: a room should contain nothing broken, no clutter, and no object that didn't please the residents.

In the two centuries since Dornleigh had been built, it had acquired a great deal of clutter. Troth cut a steely-eyed swath through clumps of old furniture, bad paintings, horribly worn rugs, and other objects that had accumulated over the decades. Kyle followed in her wake, passing judgment on things she wanted to exile. If he was attached to a particular item, she would allow it to stay, but he found that when she questioned something, it was probably expendable.

Troth's treatment of the estate office had sealed his belief in feng shui. The small room contained all of the agricultural texts and account books, but Kyle had always hated the place. He spent time there only when estate management work couldn't be avoided.

After a gimlet survey, Troth had the desk moved so that whoever used it no longer had his back turned to the door. As soon as Kyle sat behind the desk in its new position, he realized how he'd disliked the feeling that someone could stealthily enter behind him when he was working. Troth made a number of lesser changes, including the removal of a couple of spindly chairs and an unused table, and hanging a landscape painting he'd always liked. Kyle no longer had to force himself to do estate work.

Most of the ground floor had similarly benefited from her changes, and a new driveway was being laid out. It would take longer to implement her other suggestions, such as the ivy and new paint and wallpaper and draperies in several rooms, but he already felt more comfortable at Dornleigh than he ever had in the past.

The feng shui process made him think differently about the house he'd grown up in. He'd always been very aware that he was merely one in a long line of Renbournes. Nominally the house and estate would be his someday, but he was only a guardian whose job was to care for his heritage and leave it in good shape for his heir. The knowledge had always made him chafe at the restrictions that came with his inheritance.