Chapter Twenty-Nine
Yihui thought for a long time about what Emmaline had said.
Sitting in the library with her herbs, she mulled over the words like a woman grinding seeds into paste.
It was clear that no one could imagine her as Max’s wife.
She shouldn’t be disappointed. As far as she could tell, England had the same social levels that China did.
As a merchant’s daughter, she might bring medicines to the elite, but she could never marry one of them.
Which meant she could no more marry Max than she could step into the Forbidden City and kiss the emperor himself.
It was an extraordinary twist of fate that she had come to Max’s attention at all, but that was a temporary thing. And if she were smart, she would make the most of this opportunity and be grateful for whatever she could get.
She had to put aside her feelings. It shouldn’t be hard. After all, she’d been trained from birth to be content with whatever meager portion she managed to grab.
So that’s what she did. She put away her fantasies, shored up the walls around her heart, and—most important—put away the memory of his hands on her body. By the time Max came down to carry her back to her bedroom, she had her plan in place. But that was immediately undone by the sight of him.
He was dressed exquisitely. She was used to large robes with elaborate embroidery in a riot of colors.
Not so for Max. He wore black in tight-fitting attire that showed his form to perfection.
Broad shoulders, trim waist, and powerful legs.
His waistcoat and cravat were a silky dove gray and his shirt snowy white.
Handsome, but austere. As if he couldn’t afford decoration, which she knew was not the case.
“You should have a jewel,” she blurted when she saw him. “And embroidery.” Even in her short time in London she had seen waistcoats with decoration.
He stopped and looked down at himself. “Truly? I’ve never found it necessary. But I suppose you prefer my father’s sense of style?”
She narrowed her eyes, trying to remember his father from the one time she’d seen him glare into her bedroom. She couldn’t recall except in the vaguest ways. “Was his waistcoat…?”
“Dizzying. He’s nothing like Chris, of course, who never found a color he didn’t want to splash all over the place.
But Father enjoys the ornate in his waistcoat.
Patterns too complicated for the eye to follow.
He hides it beneath his coats, of course, but I have seen him in his shirtsleeves. Never fails to give me a headache.”
He was teasing. She knew it by the twinkle in his eye and the curve of his mouth.
In China, it would be unheard of to so disrespect one’s father.
Or more accurately, her father would punish her severely if she did such a thing.
But she found it endearing that Max could make jokes about his parent without fear of reprisal.
“You have gone too far to distance yourself from your father. Your dress is too plain for a man of status.”
“You think so?”
She nodded. “One decoration would be enough. One jewel, one pattern—”
“Not a pattern!”
“A colored…” She touched her chest, forgetting the right word.
“Cravat? Gray isn’t enough?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Was he teasing her? He didn’t seem to be and so she spoke her mind. “Red is the color of celebration.”
He wrinkled his nose as he stepped to see his reflection in the window. “I’d feel like a man trying to be a flower. A rose or something.”
“Try a gem.”
“A ruby? Perhaps.” He waggled his brows at her. “I don’t want to be a dandy, you know.”
Whatever a dandy was, she guessed he was far from it. “You must follow your own heart.”
His expression sobered as he turned to look at her. The look was entirely at odds with his words. As if he were apologizing with his face even as he spoke words of flattery. “What if I wish to please you?”
How was she to answer that? She stared at him without voice. What did he want from her?
She must have made a sound of distress. Or perhaps he could read the confusion on her face.
He crossed immediately to her side but stopped short of dropping down on one knee to speak to her.
Instead, he pulled over an embroidered footstool and perched on it like an awkwardly large frog.
One in impeccable dress, which made it even more comical.
“Yihui, I must beg your forgiveness. I behaved abominably.” He reached out as if to touch her face but stopped halfway between them. “No true gentleman does…what I did. It was without honor, and I swear it will not happen again.”
She swallowed. She had already steeled herself to that possibility, and yet the reality still cut. She fought it by studying his face, by thinking about his mannerisms, and finally seeing what was the truth of him.
He was a man who had desires but was forced to suppress them. She didn’t understand the reasons for his control, but guessed they were significant. Either way, he denied his needs until they came spilling out in an unguarded moment.
At such a time, he would act. He would kiss her and touch her in ways that set her body soaring. But once it was done, he would leave in shame. He would disappear only to come back and apologize for his actions.
Her father was one such man. The main difference was that his outbursts were violent. His needs screamed so loud sometimes that nothing else could be heard and no one was safe.
Max was of a different sort. His needs were for pleasure.
His desires were to give happiness, but something about his life kept him in austere colors as he danced attendance upon a mercurial ruler.
Every moment they had been together he had tried to give her what he could—protection, healing, and physical delight.
What was wrong with the others in his life that they could not take such a thing from him?
That they rebuffed his need to make others happy?
She already knew his mother was perpetually sour.
Perhaps it was because of her physical pain, but the lady was sour even when she wasn’t in pain.
Yihui knew little of his father except that he made demands of everyone.
Emmaline had said as much. As for his sister, she adored her brother and yet never ceased picking at him.
It was often as a tease, but the rejection remained the same.
“You wish to see me happy?” she asked as she felt her way through her revelation.
“Of course.”
She almost smiled at that. No man said, of course he wanted to make a woman happy. Men usually wanted to make themselves happy and their wives needed to stay out of their way.
She nearly demanded that they wed. No other woman would see him as clearly as she did. With this knowledge, she could be the perfect woman for him. She would be faithful as he gave her whatever would make her happiest. Who wouldn’t want a husband like that?
But she knew there were restrictions. He would become very powerful when his father passed. She understood that much of English society. And she could not fit into that mold. Therefore, she would take what she could, even if it was less than she wanted.
“I want to have an apothecary shop. Can you find me a place to work?”
He frowned. “You don’t have to worry about that right now.”
“You do not have to worry about it, but I am a woman with nothing. If I do not look to my future, then who will?”
He nodded. “Very well, if that’s what you want. I shall find a place for you and help you establish it. But first—”
“I will learn whatever your mother wishes to teach me. I will act the perfect bride for you. I swear, I will become everything you need me to be.”
His breath eased out of him, not as a release of tension but an acceptance of a burden. “She will not be easy on you.”
Yihui nodded. “It is necessary. This is what you have asked of me, yes?”
“Yes.” Then he touched her hands. He wrapped his fingers around hers as if he wanted to shield her from this very task. “But you will tell me if my mother demands too much.”
“Yes,” she said. “I will tell you when you fulfill your other promise.” He had not made any other promises, but she was going to hold him to it nonetheless.
He frowned. “I don’t remember another promise—”
“I will be your perfect bride. And I will change my mind before we speak any vows.”
“I hate that you’re caught up in this nonsense.”
“I will do it because you want it.” She smiled. “And because every night…” She lifted her chin, forcing herself to be bold enough to grab what she wanted. Or at least a little part of it.
“Every night?” He stroked a finger across her brow, pushing the hair away from her eyes as he searched her face.
“You will come to me, and you will kiss me again.”
“Yihui—”
“I insist. I want a kiss from you. One a night.”
“Why?” His word was spoken low, the vibration of it sliding through her energy channels until her whole body tingled.
“Because I want it,” she said. Because she already knew her life would be difficult.
She intended to make medicines for women and live independent of all men.
That meant he would not be in her life. No man would be.
And if she wanted to feel the excitement of his mouth upon hers, if she wanted to experience the frantic beat of her heart as they dueled tongue against tongue, then it would need to be now.
Here. Once a night, every night until she was established on her own and saw him no more.
“Because I will not be your wife.”
“You cannot—”
“And I will not become a whore.”
He reared back. “Absolutely not.”
“Then I will have your kisses. One a night.” She bit her lip, trying not to let her nervousness show. “That is your second promise to me.”
He squeezed her hands, his thumb pressing a long stroke from her wrist to her knuckle. “And what if I want more? What if I cannot stop myself?”
She looked him in the eyes. “Would that be wrong?”
“Very.”
“It would dishonor you?”
“Yes. And ruin you for an honorable marriage later.”
Honor was of supreme importance to him, as it was with all good men.
“Then I will trust in your goodness.”
He groaned as he dropped his forehead to hers. “That is not a wise decision.”
“I know,” she confessed. “But it is what I want.” Then she pulled one of her hands out from beneath his. She touched his cheek and gently lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Will you do this for me? Will you accept this bargain?”
She knew the answer before he said it. She saw it in the softening in his eyes and the yearning in his whisper.
“I rather think it will be for me,” he said.
And then he leaned forward. She thought he was going to kiss her now.
She stretched her mouth for his, but he avoided it.
Instead, he slid his hands beneath her and picked her up.
He scooped her up and balanced her in his arms as she squeaked in surprise and then gripped his shoulders for balance.
Would it always be this way with him? Would he always surprise and unbalance her?
Heavenly Kwan Yin, she prayed to the Goddess of Mercy, please let it be so. If not forever, then at least for a time.
“I shall be away most of the evening,” he said as he settled her tighter against his chest. “So if you are done here…?”
It took her a moment to realize he waited for her answer.
“Oh yes. The herbs are set as needed.”
“Good. Then I shall take you to your bedroom now.”
“And…” She didn’t want to say it again.
He glanced down at her face, his smile growing as she realized his intention.
“Yes,” he said. “I think we should begin our bargain immediately.”