
Troth tore her gaze from the woman to look at him. Her blood drained away, leaving her chilled to the marrow. It wasn't possible. The man was lean and well built, with chiseled features and striking blue eyes. Waving brown hair, a hint of cleft in his chin, an air of natural authority. The face of a dead man. It wasn't possible.
That was her last, dizzy thought before she fainted dead away.
Chapter 1
« ^ »
Macao, China
February 1832
Kyle Renbourne, tenth Viscount Maxwell, concealed his impatience as he politely greeted dozens of members of Macao 's European community who had gathered to meet an honest-to-God lord. Then, his social duty done, he slipped outside to the veranda so he could contemplate the last, best adventure that would begin the next morning.
The sprawling house stood high on one of South China 's steep hills. Below, a scattering of lights defined the sweep of Macao around the eastern harbor. An exotic little city at the southeastern corner of the Pearl River estuary, Macao had been founded by the Portuguese, the only European power to find favor with the Chinese.
For almost three centuries the enclave had been home to merchants and missionaries and a rare mixing of races. Kyle had enjoyed his visit. But Macao wasn't really China, and he was eager to be on his way to Canton.
He leaned against the railing, enjoying the cool breeze on his face. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the wind seemed scented with unknown spices and ancient mysteries, beckoning him to the land he'd dreamed of since he was a boy.
His host, friend, and partner, Gavin Elliott, came through the shuttered doors. "You look like a child on Christmas Eve, ready to burst with anticipation."
"You can afford to be casual about sailing to Canton tomorrow. You've been doing it for fifteen years. This is my first visit." Kyle hesitated before adding, "And probably my last."
