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

Chapter Twenty-Three

L i-Na had known it was a risk. No woman without money or title asked a man to marry her. Most women she knew would beg to be Daniel’s mistress. But Mrs. Dove-Lyon was a tireless advocate of women owning their own worth. And in England, that meant she should become a man’s wife, especially if that man had a title and funds.

So she had taken the risk. It would be a big risk for her to give up the life she had in London for the uncertain one she’d have in Cornwall, but she judged him worth the peril.

She’d never imagined that he’d ask for love. Not just the feigning of love in flattery or gifts of her body. Mrs. Hocking had told her tales of the local women who had cozied up to Daniel and offered him every sort of flattery, only to be set firmly aside. No, this man needed a woman to give him something he valued, something she shuddered to admit she was afraid to do.

This man wanted art.

But her paintings were the one thing she held as truly her own. No one touched them but herself. They were her heart, her soul, her deepest feelings pressed onto canvas and destroyed so that no one else could know her. In this way, she protected herself.

If she painted her squiggles, then she could remain impassive before everyone else.

If she sketched a goddess in the sand an hour before it was erased, then no one would know how often she thought of stepping into the sky and never returning.

If she drew the eyes of a tiger as he stalked her, then no one would know that she dreamed of being caught by him.

But now he’d told her his price. He would not marry her unless she saw the truth of him. And so she would have to paint it. Her thoughts given to him. Not destroyed, not hidden, but on paper for all the world to see.

The idea left her feeling exposed in the most hideous way, worse than if she were paraded naked down a London street. After all, every man alive had seen a naked woman. She was no more and no less than another body amid an entire city of bodies. But her thoughts in paint—those were uniquely her own.

And yet, that was his price. So she would do it.

The next morning, she rose early. She had spent the night listening to his steady snores and thinking of what she would paint for him. What she would paint of him. Then while he was still sleeping, she tiptoed past him and headed out to the small strip of sand where she would work. Tucked back against the edge of the beach, she would be hidden from eyes above. And even better, anyone who saw her would assume she was painting the ocean when instead, she was working on something much larger than that.

She was painting a life. His life, to be exact, and it would likely take her all day.

She returned well after dark, her stomach rumbling from hunger. Or maybe it was twisting in anxiety. Never before—not since she was a teenage girl desperately in love with the wrong man—had she given one of her paintings to anyone. Not even Mrs. Dove-Lyon who rescued her from slavery.

Until today. Or rather tonight when she would present it to Daniel.

She climbed the long path, her shoulders aching, only to be met at the top by an unfamiliar voice.

“Is that her? Has Venus arisen from the ocean?”

Li-Na shrank back into herself, but it was too late. The unknown man was striding forward, his expression set in a wide grin. He was a large man with piglike eyes on a broad face. She judged him to be a boar—a feral pig with tusks that could easily kill when mad—and he had set his sights on her.

Standing to the side was Daniel, her tiger with a carefully blanked expression, whose body nevertheless seemed to quiver with carefully controlled energy. He was ready to leap, but was as yet holding himself back.

Obviously, this was the man Daniel had wanted her to avoid. How stupid of her to come up the path, naively thinking that dark would be late enough to avoid this man. And he was still advancing on her, his arms outstretched as if he had the right to hug her.

“What a gorgeous lady,” he bellowed. “Bringing gifts, I see. Don’t be shy. Let me see what you have done!”

“Step back, Lerwick,” Daniel growled. “She’s not to be manhandled by you.”

“I see now why you kept quiet about her. Gorgeous and talented, no doubt. They call her the foreign witch.” He waggled his brows. “I swear I am bewitched.”

Daniel stepped forward, placing himself between her and the piggish Lerwick. “Miss Li-Na, may I introduce you to Lord Lerwick? He heard about you from the townspeople and has been waiting all day to meet you.”

Ah. So that explained why he was still here when Daniel obviously had not wanted them to meet. Li-Na dropped into a curtsey though it was awkward given the supplies she carried. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord Lerwick.” She kept her voice smooth, her attitude remote. “If you will excuse me, I have work to do. I am afraid I lost track of time and am behind schedule.”

She meant to duck around behind Daniel to escape into the castle, but Lerwick moved more quickly than she anticipated. The moment she turned, he grabbed her arm. Indeed, he hooked his hand like a tusk to catch her.

“Don’t be silly. First you must show us what treasures you bring from the sea. I vow I am beyond curious to see what you have done.”

Panic shot through her gut at the idea that this man would see her painting. It was for Daniel alone. She pulled away as quickly as possible, trying to unhook herself, but Lerwick had large hands that gripped her tight. She could not escape, though she dropped all but her painting as she readied herself to run.

“Unhand her now,” Daniel said, his voice a low growl of threat.

“I’m not hurting her,” Lerwick said, but the last word ended on a piggy squeak as Daniel grabbed the man’s wrist and pinched.

Li-Na had not seen Daniel do such a thing before. He was barely larger than the boar, but a tiger’s claws obviously bit deep. Lerwick immediately let go while Daniel steadily twisted the man’s arm down.

“Leave off!” the boar cried. “Ow! I wasn’t hurting her!”

Daniel let go, but he stayed directly between her and Lerwick. “Li-Na, please go back to the castle,” he said in a low voice. “Bar the door. I’ll see this gentleman back to t—”

“Aha!” the man cried. Li-Na had been looking at Daniel. She had been watching his eyes and seeing the safety he offered. In her inattention, Lerwick grabbed her paper canvas from her hand. How had she allowed that? How had she forgotten to protect her thoughts?

He stepped back from her, his delight obvious as he unfurled her painting and held it up to see. She had thought the moonlight would be too little to see her work well, but instead, it lent a silvery glow to the ink that was wholly appropriate to the scene.

She’d painted a tiger in the jungle, tall and proud. His gaze was on a distant threat as his lips curved and his body tensed to defend what was his. Meanwhile, above him was a monkey stealing a mango fruit. The tiger didn’t bother to defend his bounty. The tree held a great deal of fruit, and why would tiger Daniel worry about losing one out of so many? He ignored the monkey and protected his domain as only a wise tiger could.

Looking at Lerwick now, she should have drawn the outline of a boar as the threat. A wild pig could cause a great deal of damage to the mango tree, the monkey, and everything else in that domain. Naturally, Lerwick didn’t understand any of her thoughts. And she couldn’t guess what Daniel’s thoughts were because all she saw was fury.

“Interesting,” Lerwick said as he tilted the painting to the moonlight. “Yes, yes, very interesting.”

“You have exhausted my patience,” Daniel said as he held out his hand. He couldn’t fight for the painting. The paper was too easily torn. He held out his hand and used the force of his voice to get obedience.

“I could sell this to Prinny,” Lerwick continued. “He’s mad for Chinoiserie right now. I’ll tell him he’s the tiger, the monkey is whomever he’s angry at trying to steal his fortune.” He grinned at Li-Na. “I’ll make you an intimate of the Prince Regent himself!”

Li-Na shrank back, horrified by the thought. “No, thank you,” she said firmly. “I have everything I need here.”

He didn’t wait for her to finish speaking. “You’ll have to make the phallus larger,” he said pointing to the creature’s organ, and her cheeks burned that she had even included such a thing. But tigers had organs, and she would not have drawn Daniel without one.

“No.” She invested enough anger in the one word that he could not fail to hear her determination.

His brows rose in response, then he immediately turned to Daniel. “You sneaky bastard,” he said, his voice thickening. “Is she your mistress?” He looked to Li-Na. “Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it.”

“No.”

Then his gaze cut to Daniel. “A monkey for one night. We’ll share—”

His word was cut off as Daniel punched him straight across the jaw. One blow and the man’s head snapped back. He fell as all boars did, with a lumbering step, and a sideways drop, heavy as stone. Far from worrying about the man’s head, Daniel’s quick hands went to protect the painting. He pulled it from Lerwick’s grip as the bastard dropped to the dirt.

It happened so fast. Li-Na barely had time for a breath before the man was on the ground unconscious. Then Daniel held the painting carefully in one hand. He extended it to her as he picked up her supply box. She took the paper gently, then watched in shock as he lifted his arm to her.

“Please, let me escort you away from here. I find the air has turned foul.”

She blinked and looked down at the unconscious Lerwick. “Is he dead?”

“He breathes.”

“Are we leaving him here?”

“He’ll wake in a few hours and have to get himself back to the inn. The castle is barred to him. I assure you, you’re perfectly safe.”

She set her hand on his arm, feeling the strength of it beneath her fingertips. Then she took a step, more because he urged her forward than because she had the will on her own. And only then did she realize just how frightened she’d been.

The Lyon’s Den was filled with men like Lerwick. Li-Na knew their lascivious wants and knew how far they would go to have them whether or not the women were willing. It was why Mrs. Dove-Lyon employed so many men to protect her girls. But even they—hardened military men—had been hurt in brawls with determined customers.

She had only Daniel to protect her, and he had downed the wild boar in one blow.

It made her heart and knees tremble.

“I…um…”

“Don’t talk yet,” he said as he urged her along. “Wait until we’re inside.”

She nodded, her mind in a jumble. She had spent the day thinking about him as she painted. She had spent the climb from the water in an excited jumble as she imagined giving him her painting. And now, he had just protected her from a situation that had happened so fast she hadn’t even realized how terrifying it had been.

What did she do with a man like that? What did she say?

“Thank you,” wasn’t enough, but she said it anyway.

“I am furious that I allowed him to linger. I sent Mrs. Hocking to find you and keep you away.”

“I never saw her. I kept myself hidden.”

“Damned bastard. Only came here because he’d heard a rumor about me having Chinese eroticism. The minute he overheard talk in town about you, he was determined to find you. I’d already told him no, but he’s like a barnacle when he wants to stick. It’s my mistake for allowing him to wander around here, but I thought you were with Mrs. Hocking, and he would get bored looking.”

“He knows Prinny.” She started to look back, but he held her close enough that she couldn’t turn.

“I don’t give a damn who he knows. No man treats you like that. As long as I’m alive, you’re safe from bastards like that.”

Safe. The word settled into her bones in a way it hadn’t before. This tiger protected his own and somehow—without even becoming his wife—she had become one of his. As he protected his nephew, his sister-in-law, and all his brother’s tenants.

She felt her shoulders relax as her body melted closer to his. “This painting is wrong,” she said. “I need to make a new one.”

“What?”

“My painting. I drew you as a tiger protecting everything and everyone while your brother stole the respect that was rightfully due to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your brother. Everyone adores him while you were the one saving the land, protecting his people, caring for what he should have valued. And so I drew you as the tiger, and Peder as the monkey stealing from you.”

He opened the castle door and led her inside, his words filling the great room even though he kept his voice low. “My brother never stole from me. He owns the land. I rent the castle. Peder never took a thing from me.”

Of course, he saw it that way. He loved his brother. But Li-Na knew what it was to do all the work and never be seen for who one was. That was, after all, the life of a servant. But it was also his life, and she honored him for the love he gave.

“As I said, I drew the painting wrong. No one steals from you. You have created a paradise here, and you allow people to live as they will, do as they will, so long as everyone is safe.” She turned to face him. “That is an entirely different painting.”

He shook his head. “You see me as a tiger?”

“You said I must show you what I think of you. So I painted my thoughts, and…” She shrugged. “Now I see they are wrong.”

He looked at her, his hand stroking across her cheek. “A tiger?”

With a monkey brother who stole all the glory. “I have always seen you as such.”

“May I have this painting?”

She hesitated. “It was always for you, but it is wrong.”

“Nevertheless.”

She held it out to him. She would just burn it anyway. The image was no longer correct in her mind. Or at least not right enough. “Please do not sell it.” She couldn’t bear her thoughts to be pointed at in the way Lerwick had.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I can make you another one. A better—”

He kissed her…almost. The movement wasn’t as smooth as usual. He jerked his head down too fast for her to react, but then he stopped before he pressed his lips to hers. She finished the motion for him. She lifted her mouth to his even as he swallowed her words and her promise to give him more of her thoughts in ink.

She kissed him. She let him devour her. And then when he pulled back, she bared it all to him.

“I have only once before given a painting to someone. Only once,” she said, trying to put words to something she had never spoken of to anyone.

He frowned. “Just one?”

“The eldest Zhong son. He was shy, but we had known each other since I came to the household. I knew his fears, and he knew mine. On the night of the moon festival, I gave him a painting of the goddess Yao Ji giving herself to emperor Yu.”

“The man who tempted a goddess from heaven.”

“Yes.”

“And did you draw yourself as the goddess?”

She flushed. “Yes.” Her gaze grew abstract as she thought back to that time. “We were so young. He kissed me and we…” She shrugged. “We kissed. Nothing more. He did not even offer promises though in my mind, I dreamed of such things.” It was all impossible. She saw that now, but what girl of sixteen believes anything beyond the kiss of a handsome boy?

“What happened?”

She shuddered. “His father found the painting. He ripped it up in front of us both, and then he called the English captain. I was shackled that very night on a ship bound for England.”

Daniel’s curse was a dark growl, but she knew it was not directed at her. “Tell me his name. I will kill him.”

“The Zhong father? The English captain?”

“Damned slaver needs to be shot—”

She pressed her hand to his mouth. “Everything changed for me the minute Mrs. Dove-Lyon won me in a card game. A year later, she told me the captain had died of a fever, and we celebrated the end of his life.”

Daniel grunted. “Filthy bastard.”

She could not disagree. “But Bessie was right. I was stuck in London. I lived a life that was limited by choice, stuck because it was safe. Until I came here.”

“You have always been free. At least once you came to London.”

“Free in body is different from free in mind.” She smiled as she looked around his dark, crumbling castle. “Here I have finally allowed my mind to grow again.” She pointed down to the painting. “And so I give a painting to you. Because thanks to you, I am freeing my mind.” Then she gave him a smile. “But I will make you a better one. I promise. One that—”

He kissed her. He pressed his mouth to hers, and she gave herself to that kiss as thoroughly and sweetly as she had once done with a young boy when she was sixteen. Except that this time, she knew more of the world. She knew the cost of loving the wrong man. And even knowing that this man was as much a mandarin as the eldest Zhong boy, she gave her thoughts in ink to him as she gave her body to him in this kiss.

And then she said something that she had not planned, but it was the truth.

“I know I cannot be your wife. Only a sixteen year old girl expects a mandarin to marry her. But you have taught me that there are things to learn between a man and a woman.” She grinned. “I should like to learn them. If you would teach me.”