The China Bride Read Online Free PDF

confined to a piece of land not much bigger than a cricket pitch— any excuse for diversion will do. Entertaining a visiting viscount is a good reason to break out the best silver."
    That made sense. Though Kyle was intrigued by China, he'd go mad if he had to spend half a year living such a restricted life. After only three days, he was already longing for a good gallop through open country. That would have to wait until he went home to Dornleigh. As he threaded his way through the crowded warehouse, he could almost feel a cool English wind on his face. Yes, it was time to return home.
    But he still had a month in Canton. Even if he couldn't arrange to visit the Temple of Hoshan, he must learn as much as possible about the China trade. When he inherited the earldom and took his seat in the House of Lords, he'd have to deal with issues of trade and foreign policy, and there was no substitute for firsthand knowledge.
    Opium was an integral part of the China trade, and public sentiment back home disapproved of the fact that British merchants were purveyors of drugs. Kyle agreed. A major reason he'd saved Elliott House from bankruptcy was because the American firm was one of the few companies that didn't deal in opium.
    Of course, America had furs and ginseng and other products the Chinese wanted. Traders from other nations weren't so lucky. China wasn't interested in European manufactured goods—but opium from Turkey or British India was quite another matter.
    He entered the office. Half a dozen clerks were there, most of them Portuguese. Jin Kang sat at a corner desk working the odd collection of beads known as an abacus. The thing looked like a child's toy, but was supposed to be useful for calculations.
    Making a mental note to get someone to explain it to him later, Kyle silently approached Jin. "How is your ankle, Jin Kang?" Jin gave a swift, startled glance before dropping his gaze to the abacus again. His eyes were indeed a warm brown rather than black. "It is well, sir." His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.
    Kyle drew up an empty chair and sat beside the desk. "Mr. Elliott gave me a letter that he'd like you to write for him."
    "Of course, sir." Jin set the abacus aside and pulled paper and other writing equipment from a desk drawer. Kyle watched with interest as the young man ground part of a black cake on a stone, then mixed in water to make black ink.
    When Jin was ready, Kyle slowly read the letter aloud. Using a brush instead of a quill or a pen, the young man painted a column of complex symbols down the page, starting on the right side of the paper and working toward the left. Occasionally he would pause and ask for clarification of a word or phrase. Though his English was slow and awkward, he was conscientious.
    When the letter was finished, Kyle remarked, "Chinese writing is very different from European writing. Elegant."
    "Calligraphy is a great art. My writing is crude. Fit only for trade."
    "It looks fine to me. So many different letters. Can you teach me the alphabet?"
    "It is forbidden to teach Chinese to a Fan-qui.'" Jin kept his head down. He was capable of carrying on an entire conversation without looking up.
    "Good Lord, why?"
    "It is not for me to try to guess the reasons of the Celestial Emperor." No doubt the prohibition was based on the general distaste of the Chinese for foreigners. Three days in Canton had taught Kyle that even the poorest Chinese looked down on the foreign devils. It was amusing to imagine how enraged a stiff-necked, bigoted English aristocrat would be to realize that a shabby Chinese boatman considered himself superior.
    Paradoxically, the Chinese Kyle had dealt with personally were the soul of courtesy, and he'd seen what seemed like genuine respect between Cantonese merchants and the Fan-qui with whom they did business. This was a nation of contrasts. "Surely teaching me the alphabet would not be the same as teaching me the language."
    Jin shook his head, his thick