White Tigress (36 page)

Oh, Li Hua, I am happy. I know it is wrong. I am wrong. Evil. Wrong. Terrible.

I write those words to chastise myself. But I am still smiling
.
I am still so filled with joy, I cannot speak of it.

Pray to Heaven that Sheng Fu never finds out. But perhaps the beating would be worth it. Yes, I am sure I would brave a thousand beatings for one more day—one night!—like this.

I cannot say more. But I had to tell someone! Please, dear friend, keep my secret.

—Mei Lan

Knowing the truth is not difficult; it's knowing how to react appropriately thereafter which is really difficult.

—Han Zei Zi

~

Chapter 15

Ru Shan woke first, but not by much. The moment he stirred, Lydia opened her eyes. Her mind did not engage though, and she frowned in confusion. Why was Ru Shan...? She remembered. Her escape, Max's betrayal, and finally, her wedding and wedding night.

A smile curled through her entire soul as she pressed a slow, languid kiss to her husband's lips. He returned it, of course, but there was a reserve in his movements, a tension in his body that had nothing to do with her embrace. She pulled back, a question on her face, but he did not even let her ask.

"I must go now. I must help my family prepare for your arrival." He swallowed as he gently shifted her off him. "Fu De will be here soon with cosmetics and a palanquin. Truly, there is little ritual to the event beyond that, but I must prepare my family."

She nodded, absorbing the information. Yet something

didn't add up. Ru Shan seemed too nervous for a simple feast, and so she pulled herself to her knees, wrapping the blanket around her body. Then she watched warily as her husband donned clothing and shoes. He even combed out his long queue and rebraided it with deft fingers. All the while, her certainty grew: her husband was troubled to the point of twitchiness.

"What's the matter, Ru Shan?" she finally asked. "What aren't you telling me?"

He turned, an obvious denial on his lips. But then he stopped and sighed, his hands dropping to his lap. He shrugged. "You are too clever, my wife. It will be very hard for me to keep any secrets from you."

She raised a single eyebrow, doing her best to look insulted. "Is it a Chinese custom to keep secrets from wives?"

He nodded, obviously surprised. "Of course it is, Lydia. Chinese women are not educated in much beyond beauty and art. They have little knowledge of the world and little interest in gaining it."

"So you men believe. So men have thought for eons. But we women are not so stupid as you imagine."

He sighed. "Yes, I am learning that." Before she could do more than smile, he was abruptly before her, dropping to his knees in earnestness. "But this I swear to you, Lydia. I shall not keep secrets from you. Whatever you wish to know, I will answer. You have only to ask." He raised her hands to his lips, his expression as ardent as she could ever have wished. "You are my heart, Lydia. I shall not release you."

She stared at his bowed head and felt his lips pressed against the backs of her hands. He quickly flipped her hands over to drop kisses onto her palm. She meant to ask more of him, to find out exactly what was going on behind his impassive expression. But his lips tickled, and his tongue sent shivers through her body. When he began sucking on her fingers, she had to pull away, giggling.

"Ru Shan, you make my head spin."

He gave her a smug smile, which made her laugh even harder.

"Very well," she said, deciding to guess his thoughts. "Your family will not be happy with an English wife." She shrugged. "I don't suppose my family will be thrilled with you either. They were absolutely set on Max, you know."

"And what about you, Lydia? Are you happy with your choice?" His tone was so sober, so serious that her gaze sharpened in surprise. Surely he understood how she felt? Surely he knew...

Apparently he did not, because she saw doubt in his eyes, worry in the lines that creased his forehead. She stood, moved before him, and as she did, she let the blanket slip from her shoulders so that she stood before him completely naked in body and soul. She made no attempt at seduction. In fact, it was a completely asexual gesture. It was a simple presentation of herself for whatever he willed.

"I am your wife, Ru Shan Chang. And I am greatly content in my choice."

He stepped forward, mesmerized, and she saw that his jade dragon had come alive. His hands lifted slowly, reverently, before he smoothed his palms across, around, and beneath her breasts. She closed her eyes, loving the feel of his hands on her body. She heard him smell her skin as he pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, then to her neck and shoulder.

"You cannot know how precious you are to me, Lydia. You are a pearl of great price, and I am a man most blessed."

He was speaking to her shoulder, so she reached out, needing to kiss his lips, to feel his mouth merge with hers.

There was a knock at the door.

They groaned in unison, and then Ru Shan leaned forward, quickly grabbing the blanket and wrapping it gently around her. Then he turned, speaking in rapid Chinese too fast for Lydia to understand. She gathered he was giving instructions to Fu De, because no more knocking sounded. In the meantime, he began smoothing out his clothing, preparing to leave.

When he turned to her, his words were formal and he spoke in slow Shanghainese. "We will rest our heads on the same pillow and tune our zithers clear and pure. Our music is always harmonious."

She smiled at him, flushed with love and joy and an overwhelming peace at his words. She wanted to respond in kind, but her Chinese was not that fluent. Before she even began, he was already bowing out, closing the door behind him. A moment later, she heard the front door open and close, and she knew he was gone.

Fu De appeared, knocking on her door, politely offering her clothing for the morning event. Paints for her face. Flowers for her hair. All the details of beauty that had to be relearned in the Chinese style.

Thankfully, Fu De seemed well versed. She had little time for thoughts beyond not wanting to appear like an unkempt idiot before her new in-laws. Well, that and the memory of Ru Shan's face as she'd stood naked before him. That memory alone could last her through any number of trials.

Or so she prayed.

* * *

She felt starched and primped and ridiculous by the time she was done, in her high wooden shoes and strange Chinese dress. The decorative ivory sticks lifted her hair high, but her veil kept tickling her nose and making her sneeze, which naturally dispersed the extensive amount of white paint on her face. Silly that—painting her already white face white. But Fu De assured her it was traditional, and so she did as he said.

Now she sat in a covered litter carried by four big Chinese men, on her way to meet her new in-laws. She kept thinking she ought to feel like a princess. Instead, she felt like a total fool. What had she been thinking? Marrying into a culture she truly knew next to nothing about. And why had Fu De said her feet were too large? He had bragged that it was impossible to buy special bride shoes for a woman with feet her size, but that he had somehow managed.

And what was wrong with her feet? The same thing that was apparently wrong with all of her. According to Fu De, she was too big. Bridal attire could not easily be found in her size. Her feet were huge, her body too tall, her face too large, her waist too thick, and her breasts too plump. Apparently, she was perfectly acceptable as a pet, but not as a wife.

She knew it was simply her nerves, but instead of being delighted with her new Chinese finery, Lydia found herself hating everything about it, her body, and her new family. Before she'd met any of them.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake," she snapped at herself. "Quit being such a ninny." Except she was a ninny. A newly married ninny whose palanquin had just stopped somewhere outside of the Shanghai foreign territories.

Fu De's head appeared as he lifted the bright fabric away. Since she had no one to present her to the family, he had been given the honors. Indeed, since Ru Shan didn't want his family to know that he had purchased her at a brothel, Fu De was apparently going to claim her as a daughter of a friend of a distant relative, or some such thing. Lydia had already forgotten the story.

Whatever the case, it meant that Fu De handed her a ball of red ribbon even as the litter was set on the ground and she stepped out. She teetered on her high wooden shoes. He steered her through a gateway in a high wooden fence without gaps. Beside the archway fluttered red paper with black ink characters, but she had no time to read them, especially as the wind and her veil obscured much of what could be seen.

"Watch your footing," Fu De whispered, but his words were lost as she struggled to both stand and hold a fan and his large ball of red ribbon. Especially as he was pulling it away from her by one end. She held the other end, watching as he stepped backwards, allowing the long, long piece of corded fabric to dip and sway between them, revealing the elaborate coil that decorated the center. It was a beautiful piece, and she was momentarily distracted by it. But then she looked up at Fu De, only to see that someone else held the end of her ribbon.

Ru Shan. Wonderful Ru Shan, dressed in a red silk tunic, covered in elaborate embroidery too varied for her to follow.

The ribbon jumped in her hand, tugged by Ru Shan. She held fast, her eyes trained on her love. But he continued to tug, pulling her step by tottering step into his home.

She made it through the courtyard, unable to see much of anything because she remained focused on her husband. He would see her through this.

Except, of course, he was walking away. Backing up as he tugged her into a recessed chamber. She knew what it was. Fu De had already told her.

She was going into the Cheng family ancestral place. That was where she would be formally introduced to all of Ru Shan's family. Before the ancestral altar. So she followed Ru Shan's tugging ribbon, walking calmly, pleased that she was getting the hang of these ridiculous wooden shoes.

Until she saw the other obstacle. The large slat of wood at the base of the doorway. It was there by custom because the Chinese believed ghosts could not climb over obstacles. Therefore, traditional doorways had a long slat of wood before the entrance. If forced the humans to step over the board to enter. Ghosts, of course, were blocked.

Whatever the reason, it made it excruciatingly difficult for her to maneuver in her high shoes and tight gown. She ended up gripping Fu De's arm and trying to half jump, half stumble across the threshold. Not the most auspicious way to enter the ancestral temple.

She thought she made it. She was hauling herself up by sheer will, no doubt nearly yanking poor Fu De's arm off as she went. But her gown got caught behind and beneath her. In English shoes, she might have made it. Without grace, certainly, but not bodily harm. In high Chinese formal shoes and a foreign gown, she hadn't a prayer. Her feet went out from under her, and she released a puppyish yip of alarm as she began to fall.

Her fan and the ribbon went flying, her free arm started flailing, and she couldn't even get a knee under herself to catch her fall. Her gown was still half a step behind her, preventing her from finding any purchase beyond flat-out on her face.

It was horrible, especially as it seemed to happen in excruciatingly slow motion.

Just before she was about to land face-first in a smear of oily water, she felt her body stop. It took a moment before she realized she had not hit the floor, but that strong arms had caught her.

Another breath, and she knew who had saved her. It was Ru Shan, of course. And what an entrance she'd made, falling flat out at her husband's feet.

Or rather almost flat out. Instead, he was holding her, gently supporting her while Fu De apparently released her gown from whatever demon nail had grabbed hold. It was another long moment before he could gently, carefully, set her on her feet. Especially as her knees were weak and she had to find the strength and balance to stand again on those damned shoes.

But that didn't matter now, she reminded herself. Because Ru Shan had caught her. Ru Shan was here. In fact, he was smiling warmly at her as he slowly lifted her veil off her face.