Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Four

L i-Na woke with a start. She was in a foreign place and it was quiet enough to terrify. She thought for a moment she had died because of the silence that pressed in on her from all sides. Never in the last five years at the Lyon’s Den had it ever gotten quiet. Someone was always awake, and someone was always making noise.

But she wasn’t in the Lyon’s Den. She wasn’t even in London. And given the absolute, oppressive dark, Cornwall would be her tomb.

She tried to go back to sleep, but she couldn’t relax. She was used to working until nearly dawn. When she’d gone to bed after Mrs. Hocking left, she’d hoped to sleep through dawn. She’d certainly felt tired enough, but now, three hours later, she was wide awake and terrified.

Spirits walked in darkness this black. They manifested to her eye as strokes of ink that darted out, oozed around, or shivered at the corner of her eyes. Squiggles that lived outside the body to terrify the mind. They mixed with the sound of the wind blowing outside. It wasn’t enough to make anything howl, but she heard the low rush, trembled when something rattled or brushed against the wall, and did she hear scurrying feet? Rats? Insects? Spiders?

“Ignorance never makes life better.” She spoke Bessie’s words aloud to steady herself. Then she gathered her courage to get up and look around.

She rose from the bed and put her feet on the cold stone floor. She remembered that her room was large and sparse. Mrs. Hocking had said she had the “lady’s salon of the castle.” It held a bed, a wardrobe, and desk where the woman had set two candles. Then the housekeeper had bid her goodnight and left the grounds. Li-Na remembered it clearly because she’d heard the rickety cart rumble out of the keep. At the time, Li-Na had been grateful because she just wanted to lay flat on her back and rest. Now she wished the dour woman had remained close even if it was to scowl at her.

The first thing Li-Na did was to put on her shoes. She’d learned young that life was much safer with shoes on. She could kick better with shoes.

Next, she lit a candle and held it aloft. She always slept in a light dress rather than a nightrail. That had become her habit from very young, and so she was properly attired as she lifted the candlelight to chase away the darkness. It didn’t work except to create weird shadows that leaped everywhere she looked.

Squiggles and their shadows couldn’t harm her. Rats and people could. And since she saw none of either, she boldly grabbed the iron latch that fastened her door shut. The metal was cold, and she shivered as she gripped it. Then she threw the door open and thrust her candle against the dark.

No rats. No people. She could move forward.

She took a step into the next room, remembering what Mrs. Hocking had said. The castle was round, but half of it was unsafe. The center of the circle was a courtyard, then there were wooden steps into the main hall which was a huge empty room except for a long table and a stone fireplace. To the right was the kitchen, through the door to the left was the master’s chamber. To Li-Na’s shock, they’d walked straight through the master’s bedroom, bypassing stacks of books and what appeared to be paintings stacked against the wall. Then through that to the master’s workroom and then another door into the lady’s salon where she slept.

Two steps into the master’s workroom now. A dark figure loomed to her left and she jumped backwards. The figure moved weirdly on the far wall, and she bit back a scream lest she attract its attention. It was…it appeared…

A shadow.

From a statue. A figurine of a lady with a fan as she gazed into the distance.

And now that Li-Na looked, there were other small figurines set in a crate on the far wall, some packed, some half out. But this lady stood on top of a small table near enough to Li-Na to cast a shadow.

No vermin. No people.

She should look around some more.

She noted the framed paintings set against the wall such that she only saw their backs. There was an open ledger on the center table which she found very reassuring. Numbers in an account book were familiar to her. She wanted to study it, but she wouldn’t do such a thing while the dark void of the master’s chamber remained open. She walked through the workroom to cast her light into Lord Daniel’s bedroom.

She waited at the edge of the doorway first, listening for the sound of breath, the rumble of a snore, or the skitter of tiny paws whether from vermin or maybe a dog.

Nothing. She dared to cast her light into the room. Everything remained exactly as it had been when Mrs. Hocking took her so quickly through the man’s bedroom. Bed. Books. Dark fireplace. And shoes.

Li-Na smiled at the sight of those shoes. Heavy, work boots sat in order next to glossy hessians beside a pair of buckled court shoes. Two different court shoes, in fact, one with a silver buckle and the other sporting an older style shoe rose.

Four pairs of shoes which told her without a shadow of a doubt that Lord Daniel was wealthy. Five pairs, she now realized, unless the man was up and about without anything on his feet. And if the size of his wardrobe was any indication, then he had an equally large amount of clothing. Also, his bedding seemed lush given the curtains that surrounded it, and the carpet beside his bed was…

Her breath caught. It was an animal pelt of some sort and she had no wish to step upon it. Fortunately, the head was turned away from her, so she didn’t have to see the outline of eyes and mouth. She was more taken with the scent that filled the room. It was earthy, she thought, unlike anything she had encountered before. Not unpleasant, just different from anything she’d encountered in London. She smiled as she inhaled again.

“Crotchety beast!”

Li-Na jolted as she heard what she thought was a man’s voice. Her body tensed and that set the candle flame to dancing which made the shadows pulse and leer. She shut her eyes to them, straining to hear more.

Was that a whinny? Impossible to tell. But whatever it was, she had no desire to be caught standing here in the master’s chamber. She could return backwards to her room and wait or press ahead. It was a hard choice, but she reminded herself that ignorance helped no one. Knowledge lay ahead in the great hall, and so she went there.

No vermin. No people. But she saw an abundance of black squiggles made huge in the cavernous room.

She remembered the large table in the middle of the hall, and even if she didn’t, it was hard to miss because the squiggles seemed to love it. They rose from the bench or curled around the edges, but only in her peripheral vision. She skirted the whole thing as she walked steadily to the doorway. But long before she got to it, she heard the conversation.

“As if I’m to blame for the wind! He’s got a better bed then I do in this ramshackle place and still he must complain. Every. Single. Time.”

The door was hauled open, letting a gust of wind blow the large hall. She’d been standing near enough that her candle blew out. The sudden darkness wasn’t startling. The bite of hot wax on her hand was, and she gasped.

“Who’s there!”

It wasn’t a question as much as a demand. She knew better than to remain silent since this wasn’t a situation where she could slink away. And still the words were hard to push through her constricted throat.

“No one important, my lord,” she said.

He snorted at that as he brought a lantern inside and lifted it high. She remained still, her breath short and tight as he peered at her. He was no doubt inspecting her from top to bottom, but as the light was next to his face, she got a better view.

He had a broad face and thick eyebrows which gave him a dour look, especially as his eyes narrowed to look at her. She also saw that his nose and forehead were long and strong, reflecting the wealth he had now and that he would undoubtably maintain well into the future. A glance at his earlobes confirmed that as they were also full enough to indicate great luck.

According to the Chinese way of thinking, he had a fortunate face, but Li-Na knew to look closely at a man’s mouth. Too toothy a grin, and he was a liar. Too thin in lip, and he would suck sourness into every aspect of his life. A pursed mouth tasted and tasted and never committed to anything. And a mouth that moved constantly meant the man was chewing on grievances until he grew bitter.

And what did this man do? Everything in a fluid motion of sourness, commitment, grievance, and welcome. As if he would not settle on one thing but wished to feel it all. The smile was where he landed at the end. A curve of his lips without showing teeth as he rocked back on his heels.

Even frightened as she was, she saw that he was handsome. Especially when he spoke her name in a gentle tone.

“Miss Lina?”

It was him! The man who had talked to her that morning in Hyde Park. It was his voice that finally prodded her memory. The tone was brusque, and yet held an undercurrent of gentleness that soothed her. What was he doing here in Cornwall?

“Miss Lina? Are you all right?”

“Li-Na,” she corrected without thought. “And I am well, thank you.” She wasn’t well. She’d just now realized that he must have arranged this. Somehow he’d found her and brought her here, his home in remote Cornwall!

Why? Fear choked her. Meanwhile, he kept talking as if she weren’t poised between running like a terrified rabbit and standing her ground for whatever defense she could muster. “I’m Lord Daniel,” he said as he shut the door behind him. “What are you doing out here? Didn’t Mrs. Hocking show you your room?”

“She did, my lord.” How hard to push those words out as if she weren’t terrified.

He straightened his back loud enough that it cracked. “Is everything acceptable? Did she get you something to eat? Was your bedding fresh?”

His questions came in rapid fire, somehow calming her. It was that undertone, she realized. Nothing in his body or tone suggested violence. If anything, he was being protective of her. That realization allowed her to answer with some semblance of calm.

“Everything is in order, my lord.”

He nodded as he gestured with the light. “It isn’t safe to wander about alone, especially after dark. Were you looking for me?”

“No, my lord.”

He grunted. “Please stop milording me. Just answer my questions straight. Makes thing easier.”

“Yes my—” She cut off her last word.

“Right. Anything in the larder? I’m famished. All the vicar’s got is weak tea and strong ale.”

He didn’t wait for an answer but headed to the kitchen, his lantern swinging ahead of him. She followed a few steps behind, her eyes trained to the movement in his arms, the shift in his hips, and the length of his stride. She wanted to be able to run if she needed to, but he headed on as if he barely remembered she was there. And yet his conversation continued as if it were directed at her.

“My brother had nothing but praises for the vicar. Said he was young and had bright ideas. I don’t find nearing fifty to be young, and his bright ideas are about livestock. Admirable thing to know about pigs and sheep. I’m sure it helps in the parish. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about. So what does he do? Ply me with ale while he nods and goes, hmmmm. What does that mean, I ask you? A man who just says, hmmmm? I had a dog who did that, too. Hmmmm. Didn’t mean any more then except maybe, rub my belly, please.” He set the lantern down on a large table in the middle of the kitchen. His gaze grew distant as he looked out a window at the dark night outside. “I miss that dog,” he said.

She felt her shoulders relax. Men who talked about their dogs were usually safe.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “My apologies, Miss Lina. I’m a bit addled and a lot annoyed.” He grabbed a basket set in the middle of the table and pulled it open. In it sat a meat pie and hard cheese. “Excellent, Mrs. Hocking.” He lifted the meat pie and grinned. “She makes the best in Cornwall. I’m happy to share.”

Li-Na shook her head. “Mrs. Hocking left me a basket.”

“After she ate half of it,” he groused. “Come on, come on,” he said gesturing her to sit. “I’ve plenty here.”

She couldn’t eat. In truth, she hadn’t finished what had been in her basket. She cocked her head as if listening. “I think I hear your horse. I’ll go check on him.” She flashed him a smile. “Don’t worry. I’m very experienced with horses.”

She wasn’t, though she knew the raw basics. Her plan was to bed down for the night with the horse. Much safer than spending the night caged in with this very large man. She was well aware that the only way to leave her room was through his.

He turned to listen, his mouth pursed. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Best if I check—”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s a spoiled horse who will settle when he realizes he has no choice. And I wouldn’t send you out anyway. What kind of man would I be to send a guest into the dark to deal with that cantankerous beast?” He groaned as he pushed to his feet. “Are you sure you heard him?” he pressed. “All I can hear is the wind.”

Alarm shot through her. What would happen if he realized she’d lied about the sound? How angry would he be? “Oh, of course. Probably the wind,” she said. “Please sit back down, my lord. I’m sure I imagined it.”

He looked at her, his brows drawn down in confusion. She stayed as still as she could with an apologetic, wide eyed expression on her face. He shook his head.

“Damn horse,” he muttered. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He gestured about the kitchen. “Find something to eat or drink. Work will come early and Mrs. Hocking won’t get here until noon.”

She nodded. What else could she do? She crept behind him, watching silently as he muttered and grumbled his way out the door. Then she peered through a window into the dark courtyard to watch him. She didn’t see much of anything. His lantern bobbed in the dark until it was out of view.

She waited while her heart beat painfully in her throat, and she cursed Mrs. Dove-Lyon for sending her here. What kind of man let her run away in Hyde Park but then arranged to have her at his castle in Cornwall? Who was he? What did he want from her?

He was coming back. The lantern bobbed and weaved as he lumbered back. A big man, a windy night, and no one around for miles to hear her if she screamed.

She rushed back to the kitchen, searching quickly until she found the knives. She put a small one in her pocket. It might not do anything against him, but it still gave her comfort especially as he came back in. She made sure she was exactly where he’d left her.

“All right and tight,” he said, “and looking like I’d lost my mind. I wouldn’t put it past him to set up a whole commotion just to get me outside again to check on him. The beast is crotchety that way. But we’ve been together since the day he was born, and I can’t bring myself to discipline him as I ought. So, it’s my fault really.” He looked at her. “Did you get something to eat? You look like you’re about to blow away in a stiff wind.”

She smiled. “Yes, I ate some cheese. It was very delicious. Thank you.”

His brows rose as he studied her face, the table, his untouched hunk of cheese, then back to her eyes. “Miss Lina,” he said slowly, “I can ignore a lot of things. Mrs. Hocking takes from my larder every day. I’ve told her she could without knowing the woman eats as much as three horses. I got a man who tends the kitchen garden. He does a decent job though he spits and curses worse than any sailor I ever met. And he never bathes which is why I talk to him outside.”

He paused in his speech, and she nodded in response though she had no idea why he was telling her these things.

“What I can’t abide is a lie, especially if I ask you a direct question. Someone who lies in the little things will lie in the big ones, too. I can’t have that. Mrs. Dove-Lyon said you were more honest than any man of God. She said I’d never have cause to question you and that your work would be above reproach. Was she wrong?”

Bessie had little respect for men of God, so her comment was skating the edge of ridiculous. But the rest was true, and so Li-Na responded with a meek, “No, my lord.”

“And do you have any reason to think I would damn you for not eating?”

“No, my lord.” Should she ask? Should she tell him she knew he was the man who had tried to talk to her in Hyde Park?

“So…?”

Not yet. Not until she knew more. Not until he showed his true colors whatever they may be. She swallowed then gave him a serene smile. “I have eaten plenty, my lord. Thank you.”

His studied her, but then settled back down in his chair. “Suit yourself.” He picked up his meat pie and took another bite. It seemed he wanted to sit in silence now. She wondered if she should excuse herself to bed. Or perhaps hide somewhere else in this strange place. But she wasn’t given a chance as he pinned her with a dark glower.

“Did you truly hear Fool?”

“Fool?”

“My horse.” He shrugged. “I let my nephew name him.”

He’d named his horse Fool? Cornwall was a very strange place. “I heard something,” she said which wasn’t exactly a lie. “Obviously, I was wrong.”

He chewed his food, his gaze heavy on her. Then he closed his eyes as he dropped his head on his chin. “I’m weary tonight and as cantankerous as my horse, thanks to that supercilious vicar.” He took another bite of his meat pie. “He called me boy,” he said as he glared down at the cheese. “I’ve been all over the continent, I’ve a gentleman’s education, and I’ve seen things most couldn’t imagine. Yet he thinks he can call me boy and tell me I don’t understand the way of things. Me. As if Cornwall is so different.”

It was different, as far as she could see. Night and day different from any place she’d ever been. But she didn’t say a word as he grumbled on.

“Do you know there are countries where the women manage the money? They hand it out to their men like a mother giving a treat to a child. And places where if a man hit a woman, he’d be whipped like a dog.” He lifted his chin as he stared off into the space over her left shoulder. “I’ve sat with women who would do the whipping themselves. Damned scary they were. Like Amazons. And yet he calls me boy and tells me to have patience. Women here don’t cast out their men, no matter how bad they are. He said I don’t know Cornwall, though I’ve lived here all my life.”

Obviously not if he’d traveled the world.

Lord Daniel leaned back on his stool. “Foreign ideas don’t hold here. That’s what he said.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Do you know what I said to that?”

She shook her head.

“That every idea is foreign if you don’t know it. Then when you do, you test it, you think about the logic of it. You see if it works. And if it does, then it isn’t a foreign idea, is it? It’s just an idea that worked.”

He finished off the last of the meat pie then lifted the cheese to tilt it in her direction.

“Last chance? Do you want any?”

She shook her head.

He grunted, then tossed it back into the basket as he pushed to his feet. “That’s it then,” he said. “I’m for bed.”

Her gut clenched in fear. She took a step backwards under the guise of giving him room to head for the door. But he didn’t cross before her. Instead, he held out a hand gesturing for her to go first.

“Don’t go wandering about at night,” he said. He held the lantern high while she grabbed her candle. She had the knife still in her pocket and the candle in her hand. Both could be used to hurt a man, though probably not stop him. “I’ve set the ledger out on the table. If you wake before me, you can start on it.”

“Do you want me to record accounts?”

“I want you to look for lies, Miss Lina. I look at the numbers and my brain swells against my skull. I hate it, Miss Lina, and I’m a damn fool for admitting that, but it’s the truth. I want you to find the lies.”

“And if I can’t find any?”

“Then I’ll send you back to London with my thanks.”

“And if I do?”

“Then I’ll send you back to London with my thanks.”

She looked at him, her expression carefully blanked. He held her gaze for a moment, then abruptly cut off as he put his hand over his mouth to cover a very large yawn. When it was done, he gestured her forward.

“I can’t be more plain than that, Miss Lina.”

She nodded, but she didn’t move. “I’ll do my best.”

He nodded, but beyond that, he didn’t move while she stood there, her shoulders tensing as her heart beat painfully in her throat.

“Miss Lina?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“I need to get to bed. I’m falling asleep where I stand.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He sighed. “You’re supposed to go first. I’ll follow with the lantern.”

She swallowed. He’d be behind her. She wouldn’t know what he was doing until too late. He could grab her, and she’d not be able to defend herself. “I don’t know where to go. If you could lead the way?”

He frowned then cursed under his breath. “I’m being an idiot, aren’t I? I’ve been too long in this backwater.” He held up his arm, elbow crooked in her direction. “Pray, Miss Lina, allow me to escort you to your chamber.”

She blinked. He wanted to escort her? As if she were a highborn lady? She’d been in England long enough to know that no man did that for a woman of her ilk—a foreigner who acted as a servant. And yet, here he was holding out his arm.

She transferred the candle to her far hand and then gingerly set her fingertips to his forearm. “Thank you, my lord.” The words came smoothly as if she were a lady born, but inside she was stunned at her audacity.

“My pleasure, Miss Lina.” Then he began to walk.

They moved steadily through the castle, and at every step her heart seemed to pound a little harder in her neck. What did he mean by this? What did he want ? She barely breathed when they passed through his bedroom. She didn’t dare look at his bed, but kept her gaze fixed ahead. The squiggles were gone from her sight and frozen within her. She glanced nervously about her when they glided through the workroom, but they didn’t pause. He did shoot her an abrupt question.

“Did you bring your abacus? I thought I had one, but I can’t find it.”

“I did, my lord.”

“Good, good.”

Then they were through the workroom and into her bedchamber. She tensed, ready to throw the candle at him if necessary. But as she stepped through, he lowered his arm and stepped back.

“Did you need anything?”

“No, thank you.”

“Let me know if you do. Or Mrs. Hocking.” He gave her a quick bow as he turned away. Then she heard his jaw crack beneath the weight of another large yawn. A moment later, she could hear him bumping about his own bedchamber.

She shut her door, pushing her shoulder against it to be sure that it latched. There wasn’t anything else in the room that she could drag over to block the door. Nothing but her small valise. She put it right in front of door and added the cracked chamber pot as well. They might make noise if he tried to enter her bedchamber. She hoped.

Then she gingerly climbed on her bed, keeping her feet dangling off because she refused to sleep without her shoes on. A hard kick was often a woman’s best defense.

She waited in the awkward position, doing her best to relax enough to rest but not actually sleep. She tensed at every sound and several that she imagined but didn’t hear.

Then a miracle happened.

Lord Daniel began to snore. Not gentle little rumbles. Not distant growls. Lord Daniels had a snore that was the equal of a tiger roaring in the jungle. She’d never actually heard the sound, but this was exactly what she thought it would sound like. A growling, snorting, thunder of a sound that carried easily into her bedroom.

It reassured her as nothing else. As long as she heard that sound, the man was asleep.

She began to relax. Her breath matched his rhythm. Her eyes drifted shut. She tuned herself to his steady, reverberating snores, and she slept.