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

Chapter Twenty-Six

“S o you just came back here?” Bessie’s voice was shrill with shock. She even went so far as to set her teacup back in its saucer.

Li-Na didn’t dare touch her own tea. Her stomach was tight with pain from the last few days. But at Bessie’s hard look, she gave her best answer.

“The steward’s threat was real. The church court was called to determine guardianship of his nephew. Lord Daniel had to go.”

“And he couldn’t protect you while he sat in church court?”

She shook his head. “Mrs. Hocking told me who was called as witnesses. Bob Mellin, the drunkard. He said Lord Daniel suggested his wife do unnatural things. Said he’d learned of them from his travels to China.”

“But he’s never been to China.”

Li-Na nodded. Logic had not appeared to make a difference. “The next witness was the vicar who agreed that Lord Daniel believed women should be able to throw their men out of their homes at will.”

“Some men deserve to be tossed away.”

“The steward said he’d been trusted by Stefan’s father and Daniel until I arrived. He said witchcraft was the only explanation.”

“You’re not a witch. You’ve never even lied! Not once.”

“They do not know that.”

Bessie dipped her chin. “Who else testified?”

“The doctor who said I cursed Lord Daniel. He claimed to have cured his lordship by being immune to me.”

“I don’t trust doctors who won’t listen to a woman. They act as if they’d just invented tending to the sick.”

Li-Na couldn’t argue, but the rationalizations of men had never made sense.

Mrs. Dove-Lyon poured herself more tea. “What other evidence do they have?”

“I am supposed to have cursed the younger child Joseph.”

“You didn’t even know the boy!”

“I’ve met him and played with him. They say I charmed him with my magical powers.”

“Poppycock. I assume you were nice to the boy.”

“He’s a sweet boy. Most of the time.”

Meanwhile, Mrs. Dove-Lyon pursed her lips in disgust. “So, you are to blame for every ill in Cornwall. What has that to do with the guardianship of the boy?”

“A man who has been charmed by a witch cannot be guardian to an earl. That’s what Mrs. Hocking said as she put me on the post.”

“She didn’t believe it, did she?”

“Not a word, but the town was roused by it. They didn’t like me asking questions and not attending church.”

Bessie shook her head. “You wouldn’t have been accepted in the church anyway.”

“I didn’t know I could go. No one invited me. I knew nothing of it.” What did she know of Christian customs? Mrs. Dove-Lyon did not attend, and so Li-Na had learned nothing of it except that the upstairs girls, as they were called, were not welcome. Li-Na had assumed she, too, was unwanted.

Bessie blew on her tea. “I suppose sending you back here was the safest thing for you. Though I am disappointed in Lord Daniel. I thought he could bring the light into your eyes.”

He had brought it out. She hadn’t even realized how buried she’d been in London. Not by anyone else, but by herself. He’d brought her into a lonely place and allowed her to feel safe enough to explore. He let her lead, and when she finally looked up and looked around, all she saw was him. His kindness to her, his support of the countess and his nephews, his attention to the villagers. Everywhere she looked, he was there. What could she do but yearn to know him better? How could she fill her time except to give him what he wanted? And what she wanted, too, which was to touch him, to kiss him, and to love him.

Her breath caught in her chest at that thought. Had she done the unthinkable? Had she fallen in love again? The last time had destroyed her life. She’d been shackled in a ship sent to England. And though the situation was entirely different, she couldn’t stop shaking for fear she’d done it again. Somehow, some way, her life would be destroyed again.

“Li-Na? Li-Na!”

Suddenly, Bessie was squeezing her shoulders as she called out to the man outside her parlor door.

“Philostrate! Bring me brandy!”

Then the lady was rocking her as gently as any mother.

“There, there now. It’s not so bad. You’re here now. You’re safe.”

Was she? Of course, she was! Or so her mind said. But she couldn’t stop shaking as she remembered the feel of being dragged out of the home she’d lived in since she was seven. She felt the iron as her legs were shackled. Her clothing had torn and the ropes about her wrists were slick with blood. She relived every moment on the ship when she’d been helpless. When they’d hurt her. When her whole life had changed.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t stop any of it.

“Drink this. Come on, just a sip. That’s right.”

Fire burned down her throat. Brandy. She choked and spit, but it burned away the memory of brackish water and rats fighting her for food. She curled into herself, wrapping her arms around the drink that Bessie held before her. And though she couldn’t swallow, she smelled the drink. The scent was powerful enough to blunt the memories. And in time, she remembered how to breathe again.

And she vowed—as she always did—that that would never happen to her again.

But what had she meant by that? That she’d never be shackled in the bowels of a ship? Or that she’d never fall in love again?

She very much feared her vow had been about love and nothing about being dragged from her home. She buried her head in her hands and felt the shudders work their way through her body.

“There you go,” Bessie said. “Let it out.”

She did, and this time she released it without benefit of ink and brush. She let her body shake as she tried to breathe. She cried, too. Pain and grief flowing like clear ink from her eyes while Bessie wiped them away.

It took a long while to work its way out. A long, agonizing time, but it happened. And in the end, she was able to drink the rest of the brandy without choking.

“I’m better now,” she said without looking up. How long had she been here crying on Bessie’s parlor floor?

“Good. Nothing cures like a good cry.” There was resolve in her tone that braced Li-Na. It was how Mrs. Dove-Lyon always treated the women in her employ. Strength tempered with kindness. “Now tell me what happened to bring that on.”

Li-Na opened her mouth to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. At least not the ones she planned to say.

“I fell in love,” she said, and then flinched at her own words. How could she be so foolish? But it was the truth. Daniel had brought her out of hiding just as Bessie had wanted. And now she didn’t know how she could go back to the dark again. Not without him.

“You’re in love with Lord Daniel?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then. It’s a good thing he’s come to fetch you.” There was satisfaction in her tone.

Li-Na’s head snapped up in shock. Bessie pointed to the door of the parlor and Li-Na immediately spun around.

There he stood in the doorway looking disheveled and shocked. His hair was askew, his clothing wrinkled, but his eyes and his mouth were clear as a bell. They were fixed upon her as he rushed forward.

She tried to stand. She shouldn’t be sitting on the floor when—

He dropped to his knees before her. He held her hands in his two large ones, and he searched her face.

“Li-Na? Are you all right?”

No! How could he ask her that? She’d fallen in love with him and he…

“Why are you here?” she asked.

He gaped at her, and when she didn’t respond, he ran a frustrated hand over his face. “Damn it, Li-Na, did you think I would send you away and not come for you?”

No. Well, yes. Men promise so many things and never follow through. It wasn’t just the eldest Zhong boy who had vowed to be with her forever and then failed her the very next morning. She had also listened for five years to the women in the Lyon’s Den as they talked about faithless lovers, evil husbands, and all the perfidies of men. They spoke in a single voice as they said, never fall in love. And yet here she was on the floor completely shattered because she had given Lord Daniel her heart.

“I have a painting for you,” she said. “A better one than before.” She had finished it minutes before Mrs. Hocking told her she was to leave on the next post carriage.

He pressed his forehead to hers as he chuckled. It was the low sound of a man with complicated emotions. Neither happy nor sad, it seemed to mock himself or maybe the world. Whatever it was, she had no understanding of its meaning.

“My lord?”

He kissed her. He pressed his mouth to hers and she returned it in full measure. How could she not? She loved him, and she put all her fears into the press of her mouth to his. Don’t hurt me. Don’t leave me. Don’t destroy my life.

He, in turn, held her in his arms, he let her clutch him and seduce him all while soothing her with his own touch. He caressed her back, he teased her tongue with his own, and he eased her fears without saying a word.

And when they separated, he whispered in her ear. “Is it true? Do you love me?”

She pulled back with a frown. “Do not play with me. You heard what I said.”

He smiled. “I did. And I shall hold you to that.” Then he blew out a heavy breath. “But I have come to ask for your help.”

“Mine?”

He nodded. “You have heard that the church court is ready to rule against me. I have convinced them to wait until tomorrow.”

“You must get the countess to speak. You must ask Anne to testify that her husband is lying. You must—”

Daniel shook his head. “They will not be heard.”

“Then the boy—”

“No. They will not listen. I need someone more powerful than Lord Gordon to speak on my behalf. On Stefan’s behalf.”

She frowned. “Who?”

“Prinny.”

To the side, Bessie let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Good luck even seeing him. He’s holed himself up in Carlton House and is having a right sulk.”

Daniel looked up. “I know. But I’m hoping to offer him something,” he said. “Something wonderful enough to catch a king’s attention.”

“What?” Li-Na asked.

He gave her a weak smile. “One of your paintings.”

Her eyes widened. “My paintings? But they are not good enough for a prince!”

“Li-Na!” he said with the harshest tone she had yet heard from him. “I do not argue with you on the stroke of your brush or the heaviness of the ink. I do not tell you what paper to use or what subject you display. You know those things better than I.”

“Yes, which is why—”

“But selling things is my work. Do not think to tell me what is fit for one of my customers.” He looked her hard in the eye. “Will you let me do it? Will you let me sell one of your paintings?”

She had no strength to deny him. Nor could she argue when he was so determined. And so, she offered him the one thing she had never thought to give anyone but him. The idea that it might go to someone else and be seen by countless others left her feeling ill. It was her private thoughts stroked onto the page. But it was the only piece that could possibly work for a prince.

“I have only one painting fit for a king,” she said. “And as it was always meant for you, you may do with it as you will.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. Then he pressed another kiss to her lips. One that felt like a promise or a good-bye. She couldn’t tell. Her emotions were too confused. She knew only that her heart was so firmly set in his hands that she felt as helpless and lost as she had ever been.

Don’t hurt me. Don’t leave me. Don’t destroy my life.

Then he looked up at Bessie. “Do you have clothes that she can borrow? Ones appropriate to meet the prince?”

“What?” Li-Na gasped. “What!”

He smiled. “Did you think I would act the same as that damned church court? No women allowed. No voice to the ones who have the most to say. It is your art. It is you who must make the plea on my behalf.”

She blinked. “I cannot meet the Prince Regent. I am a Chinese servant. I work in a gaming hell. I—”

“You are the one who is my best hope. Please help me.”

What could she say but yes?