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

Chapter Eleven

L i-Na sat down beside the countess. She kept her body as contained as possible on the seat, but the lady was not as careful. As soon as the carriage began moving, she turned to look at Li-Na. Her gaze was steady as her legs stretched out. The light from the lantern gave them a gloomy interior at best so the woman leaned forward as her hand waved at Li-Na.

“Daniel says you’re a painter. He wants to sell your art.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“He also says you don’t want to paint for him.”

“No, my lady.”

“I would do it if I were you. He’s like a dog with a bone. He’ll keep at you until you give in.”

Li-Na thought that the lady was more like a dog than Lord Daniel. She studied things like a dog did, with a heavy stare that did not waver. Her words and motions were forceful, but her delicate bones made her seem more like a small dog with a large attitude.

Which meant the best defense was to distract with something unexpected. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon knows gentlemen who can protect you and your sons. If you have the money to employ them.”

The lady reared back as if struck. “Why would you say something like that? Why would I need such men? Are you threatening me?”

Bark, bark. The lady was snapping at her in fear, but there was no bite yet.

“I overheard your conversation with Lord Daniel.” She glanced significantly through the front window to where Lord Daniel and Stefan sat. She kept her voice low, but she guessed an attentive man could hear them nonetheless. “Someone is trying to take your son from you?”

The lady’s face paled, and she pulled her hand back as she looked away. A frightened dog, then.

“My father. He thinks he knows best, and he has people here who report to him. He knows it if I set one foot out place.”

“Every powerful man has spies,” Li-Na said.

“Daniel’s powerful, too. He will stop my father.”

“Of course, he will,” Li-Na said gently. “But what woman leaves the defense of her children in a man’s hands? If you have money to pay—”

“And have them shoot my own father?” She shuddered. “He thinks I’m too soft with the boys and that I cannot manage money.” She wrapped her arms around herself and stared through the window.

“To fight one’s own father is a daunting task.”

The lady nodded, but her gaze remained on her son. “I cannot hire bodyguards for the rest of his childhood. I am his mother. I should have a say in his life!” Those last words came out with bite, but the power was quickly lost. “But the law says I cannot be his guardian because I’m a woman. The church court was set to declare Daniel as guardian, but now my father’s contesting it.”

What was she to say to that? She had no understanding of the laws in this land. She suspected it was like China where men ruled and women obeyed. And yet, even in China, there were ways to fight back. “A mother’s strongest power is over her son. Have you taught him to respect you?”

“Of course, I have.”

“Then he must fight with you against his grandfather.”

“He’s a boy.”

“He is male and the earl. The power will always be in his hand. If you help him wield it, then you can direct that power as you need.”

The lady’s eyes narrowed as she peered at her. There was a flash of teeth, a tentative gesture with her finger, but it didn’t last long. In the end, the lady shifted as if sniffing the air or tasting the idea on her tongue.

“Is that something taught in China?”

This time Li-Na dropped her eyes. “I was a servant to the eldest daughter of a powerful family. I stood in the room while the daughter was taught female things.”

“Like how to hire bodyguards?”

Li-Na shook her head. “I learned that from Mrs. Dove-Lyon. I learned how to influence boys from the Zhong mother.”

The lady leaned forward. “How did she do it?”

“She taught her sons to look to her for their food, their comfort, and their very lives.”

“And it worked?”

No. They rebelled at her cruel ways. They turned their attention to what young men want. And they listened only when the mood suited them. But there was one thing they never forgot. “They learned to respect the strength of a woman.” She lifted her chin. “Madame Zhong taught me that women can be powerful in small ways even if they lose in the large ones.”

The countess shook her head. “I don’t understand your ways. How can a small fight keep my father away from my sons?”

“By telling the boy to choose you over his grandfather. If you have wielded your power well, he will stand by you.”

The woman fell silent as she stared through the front window at her son. “But he’s just a boy.”

“And you are just a woman. There is always power if you want to wield it. It may not be enough, but there is always something you can do.”

The countess looked at her. Her finger was no longer pointed. It had fallen into her lap as her gaze caught Li-Na’s and held. They were coming to the village now with buildings to the left and right. Li-Na wanted to see what she could through the darkness, but she didn’t change her gaze. The lady’s expression seemed weightier than the buildings.

“Daniel is right. You are not the usual servant.”

Li-Na almost laughed. If the lady thought her own servants didn’t push their influence, then she was sadly mistaken. Every soul from the lowest kitchen maid to the mad king sought to control their environment.

“Why won’t you paint something for him?”

The dog was back at her bone, and this time Li-Na didn’t think she could create an effective distraction.

“Because it is mine.”

“You want to control your art like I want control of my sons,” she said. Then her gaze shifted to Daniel’s broad back. Even through his shirt and coat, they could see the flex of his body as he controlled the horse. “Do you think he will best you?”

“Do you think your father will beat you?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

The lady smiled, and her finger wagged in a happy cadence. “I hope we are both wrong.”

They came to the inn soon after that. The sun was down, but the coaching inn was filled with light and movement. The innkeeper met them as they alighted, then they all moved from carriage to meal in appropriate societal order.

Lord Daniel escorted his sister-in-law.

Stefan walked with a light step right behind them.

Li-Na kept pace three steps in the rear, feeling reassured by the bustle in the yard. Compared to the silent emptiness of the castle, this place felt familiar to her. Noise filled the air along with a chaotic mixture of smells. Even the private dining room felt comfortably small.

Lord Daniel pulled out a chair for his sister-in-law. Stefan pulled another out for her.

“Thank you,” the ladies responded almost at the same time.

Li-Na was not accustomed to English dining customs, but she knew how to watch and imitate. The food was hearty, the wine good, and the conversation general. She participated only when spoken to. Most of the questions directed to her were about China, and she answered as best she could. They even allowed the boy to speak, and he talked with enthusiasm about how the post horses were fed something different than the family’s horses. The details were beyond her, but she was surprised to see the others listening with apparent interest. Could they all be fascinated by horse feed?

Was this what people in Cornwall did? Ate together and listened to their children? That was very odd to her. She’d been brought into the Zhong household to talk to the eldest daughter so that the adults didn’t need to.

England was very strange.

And yet as she listened to the ebb and flow of conversation, she found she liked it. Or more accurately, she liked how Lord Daniel presided over it all like the tiger he was. He did not speak often. The occasional question or response that kept the conversation going without dominating. But he watched it all in a well-fed cat kind of way. These people were his cubs, and so he would watch over them as the powerful creature he was.

Then disaster happened.

The youngest boy—Joseph—came in with his nanny to bid everyone goodnight. This too seemed very unusual to Li-Na. Apparently the countess felt the same way as well as she rushed to apologize.

“I am so sorry,” she said to the table at large. “I lost track of the time, and as I said, Joseph’s schedule is very exact. I would normally be upstairs by now. We have a routine.”

She left her chair to join the nanny who turned the boy to greet his uncle.

“Can you bow to Uncle Daniel?” the countess asked. “Joseph? Bow please.”

The boy did as he was bid and was rewarded with his uncle’s wide smile. “That was very nicely done, Joseph.”

“Yes, it was,” the countess echoed. “Do you think you can do it again, Joseph? Can you bow to Miss Li-Na?”

The boy was directed to face Li-Na. It was her first good look at the child, and she had to cover her surprise. She had expected a younger version of Stefan, but this boy’s features were somewhat flat, and his ears were small. His hair resembled his uncle’s, being short, brown, and curly, but there was a marked softness to the child that contrasted with his uncle and brother. Those two had sturdy frames and strong muscles.

She did not mean to study the boy, but in her mind’s eye, she drew a happy rabbit, plump and fluffy. And like the animal, the boy made no sound. He looked sideways at her—as a rabbit might—and showed no emotion at all.

“Can you bow to Miss Li-Na, Joseph?”

Apparently not because the boy did not dip his head. Instead, he walked directly up to her, his gaze sideways but still steady on her face.

What was she to do? She glanced quickly at Lord Daniel, but he gave no guidance, though he watched his nephew closely. Then the boy caught her full attention as he peered at her. He even placed both hands to her cheeks and pulled her close until they were nearly left eye to right eye. She had to lean down to do this, and once she was close enough, he touched his forehead—sideways—to hers.

She felt a quiet thump as his green eyes filled her vision. They remained like that for a very long time until the countess finally spoke.

“Come along, Joseph. It is time for bed.”

The boy did not move.

“Joseph, come away now. It is time for bed.”

Still the boy did not move, though his breath came faster.

“Third warning, Joseph. It is time to leave.”

The countess caught the boy’s wrist, and Li-Na gently pulled herself back. He did not want to let her go, but she would not help him disobey his mother. So while she leaned back from the child, she smiled.

“That was a lovely greeting, Joseph,” she said. “Thank you.”

He tilted his head as if to listen better to her, but the steady pressure of his mother’s hand upset him. She saw his face compress and his body tighten. So did the nanny. The woman was quick to swoop him up and out the door with the countess a step behind. The child’s scream could be clearly heard as they left. And as the door shut behind them, Stefan turned to her.

“I’ve never seen him do that.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“He doesn’t touch strangers like that.”

Lord Daniel spoke, his voice a low rumble. “What was he doing?”

Stefan spoke. “Looking at her, I think. They touched foreheads.”

“But why?” asked Lord Daniel.

“I think,” Li-Na said slowly, “that he knows I am different, just as he is.”

“But you’re nothing like him,” said Stefan.

“I didn’t say he and I were alike,” she explained. “I said we are both different.”

“From us, you mean. You’re different from us.” Lord Daniel’s voice was lower. There was no rumble of threat from him. Merely a statement as he sorted through what had happened.

She shrugged. There was no denying that a Chinese woman in England was different. And the boy was obviously different as well, though not in the same way. “Sometimes it is easier to be alone together.”

Stefan clearly didn’t know what to make of her words. He looked between her and his uncle. Meanwhile, Lord Daniel nodded slowly as if he understood. He couldn’t, of course. He was a powerful man in the country of his birth. What did he know about being different? But even so, she read understanding in his gaze. Perhaps a man who had travelled the world did know something about being different.

Meanwhile, Lord Daniel clapped his hands. “Well, that’s it for me.” He looked at Stefan. “I expect you first thing in the morning. We’re going to talk about reconstructing a castle. And you’re—”

“Going to tell you why I don’t own the things that the law says I do.”

Lord Daniel snorted at his nephew’s cheeky answer. “Yes, you are.” Then he jerked his head toward the door.

The child took the hint. He stood up and made a proper bow to her and his uncle before he scampered away. Which left her alone in the room with the much too alert tiger.

“How would you prefer to return to the castle? I can have one of the stable hands fix up the carriage for us or we can walk. There’s a short-cut across the moors. Perfectly safe with me as guide. But it will take us the better part of an hour at a slow pace.”

“I am at your disposal, my lord.”

He thought for a moment, his gaze heavy on her face. And then he stood up from his chair like a cat gathering himself up to hunt.

“I’d fancy a walk, if you feel up to it.”

Up to it? She could see by his gaze that he meant to speak with her. Cat and mouse again as he pushed into things that were none of his business. And yet, how odd that she felt intrigued by the possibility. No one in London had set themselves to talking with her with such direct purpose. Certainly the young bucks at the gaming hell had done their best to entice the Abacus Lady. But they soon became bored and none of them intrigued her.

But Lord Daniel was different. In the short time she’d known him, he’d caught her imagination as no one ever before. His every mood was new to her probably because he was the first tiger she’d met. Or perhaps Mrs. Dove-Lyon had been right. She had grown stuck in London, and now it was time to explore something more. Either way, she wasn’t opposed to a long walk in the dark with Lord Daniel.

Strangely, she was a little excited by the idea.