Lyon Hearted, page 16
Mrs. Hocking nodded, her expression dark as she spoke. “There’ll be a reckoning then, I think, once his Lordship returns?”
Li-Na shrugged. “I will tell him whatever I can. It’s up to him to do the rest.”
“He’ll do the right thing,” the woman said. “He’s always done right, even when it meant he had to muck out the pig wallow himself.”
Li-Na turned, surprised. “He’s done it himself?”
“He’s done it and not complained. His brother, too, though not after he got sick. They’re good men when they’re here.”
Li-Na nodded, her thoughts turning glum again. Lord Daniel was a good man, but he wasn’t here.
“Tell me more,” she coaxed, “about what Lord Daniel has done. And I’ll make sure to mention that your boys have helped with the garden when it’s needed.”
Mrs. Hocking screwed up her face. It wasn’t a classically beautiful expression, but Li-Na recognized it as the face she made before she started a tale. And from the intensity of the expression, Li-Na knew it would be a good one.
Chapter Twenty
“It’s the Lyon’s Den that has the most interesting gambling, don’t you think?”
Daniel nodded absently, thoroughly uninterested in Lord Lerwick’s conversation. The man fancied himself a Corinthian. He loved to race, box, and whatnot, but mostly he liked whoring and gambling on whatever caught his curiosity. That was probably why he liked the Lyon’s Den. It offered unusual gambles for the unwary, and there was a steep trade in side bets.
Unfortunately, Lord Lerwick was also an intimate of the Prince Regent and fancied himself an art expert. Perhaps he was well versed in erotic art, but as Daniel was not a purveyor of such things, he was hard pressed to know why the man insisted on coming back to Cornwall in order to inspect a case of vases in Daniel’s possession. But the Prince Regent had insisted, and so Lord Lerwick was stinking up the carriage while Daniel and Stefan tolerated the man’s boorish conversation.
Thankfully, Stefan had fallen asleep a half hour ago. Unfortunately, that meant the man felt free to turn the conversation to more lewd topics.
“There’s heavy betting on who will be that cage woman’s new lover,” he said as he stretched out his booted feet onto the squabs beside Stefan. Daniel pushed them off.
“Don’t wake the boy.”
Lerwick grumbled, but adjusted his feet. “I’ve a mind to have a go at her myself. I hear she’s Chinese and can do things with her feet that are so intense that most men pass out.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened. “What Chinese woman?”
“You know. The one in the cage that counts the money on her wood click clack thing.”
“An abacus?” Good God, the man was talking about Li-Na, and the thought made him physically ill.
“Yes, that. Her! Baron Easterly isn’t travelling to London anymore what with his gout and all. Said he’s given her up as his mistress. That means everyone else can have a go at her.” Lerwick waggled his eyebrows. “What do you think she can do with her feet?”
“Walk on them, most like.” The words came out more as a growl. The man couldn’t possibly be talking about Li-Na. She was too innocent to be any man’s mistress, or so he’d thought. But she wasn’t inexperienced, and she was absolutely the Abacus Woman at the Lyon’s Den.
But the idea simply didn’t fit, and the very suggestion was making him angry.
“Who is this Baron Easterly? And what makes you think she’s been his mistress?” He nearly choked on that last word. He knew that the Abacus Woman was a tantalizing mystery at the Lyon’s Den and therefore the source of a great deal of speculation. But he’d never heard that she was anybody’s mistress.
It was an unsettling realization, especially as Lerwick detailed tale after tale about his friend Baron Easterly. The man was a favorite among Lerwick’s set because he was a jolly good fellow who managed somehow to get the best harlots. Indeed, his sexual stamina was touted by all the women—or it had been—until he somehow managed to get the Abacus Woman as his mistress. No one knew how he’d done it, but the woman had come out of her cage several times, wrapped her arms around him, and lured him upstairs to where a jolly good time was had, according to everyone.
The stories seemed credible enough, at least the parts that Lerwick had himself witnessed, but Daniel could not reconcile the tales with the woman he’d had in his arms little more than two weeks ago. She was not the seasoned seducer that Lerwick described. And the dissonance between the two stories made him furious.
Could she be that talented a liar? So skilled as to pretend with him because that attracted him? Lerwick certainly described her that way. He described in detail the tales that the baron had relayed, and they were lewd enough to make Daniel’s ears burn.
“I cannot credit that anyone would do what you describe,” Daniel finally said. “Indeed, why would anyone want to?”
“That’s the wonder of Japan and China. They have strange interests, and the most amazing talents. Have you seen their pillow books? I found one for Prinny, and we spent many nights in discussion of the pictures there.”
Yes, he’d seen pillow books on several occasions. He’d admired the art and thought the content to be thorough. But it was nothing like what Lerwick described. “I think your tales have grown with the telling,” he said firmly.
“I witnessed it with my own eyes!” the man exclaimed. “Several of us were allowed in to watch and…”
“And what?”
He grinned. “The lady’s feet were tiny things, but not the three-inch ones that they prize. That’s why she was tossed out of China, you know, because her feet were too large. But she made up for her larger feet with skill.” He blew out a breath and leaned back as if in remembered ecstasy. “It was a sight to behold, I tell you, but no amount of money would convince Easterly to allow us a go for the night. And believe me, we offered staggering amounts.”
Finally, something he believed. Lerwick was free with his money for all manner of lewd things. He also enjoyed a lavish lifestyle thanks to his proximity to the Prince Regent. That was, after all, how he came to be in Daniel’s carriage. But Daniel could not credit the entire tale, at least not without talking to Li-Na, and yet the entire conversation left him furious. Either Li-Na was a master seductress or her name was impossibly sullied throughout all of London. Either case was insupportable to him. But he could not escape the confines of the carriage, or the elaborate tales of sexual exploits Lerwick detailed for the next several hours.
By the time he finally deposited Lerwick at the inn, he was thoroughly incensed. He refused to spend one second more with the man. Fortunately, the repairs to the manor home had finished and his sister-in-law had returned home. He directed the carriage there and breathed a sigh of relief at finally having silence in his carriage. At least until Stefan grew bold enough to ask questions.
“Isn’t Li-Na Chinese? Do you think she knows this Abacus Woman? And do you think what he said was true?”
Damnation. The boy had been only faking sleep. “You are not to repeat a word of that nonsense, do you hear me?”
“You think he was lying?”
Yes. No. Not about everything. “I think a lady deserves the benefit of the doubt.”
Stefan frowned. “But if what he said is true, then she’s not a lady, is she?”
Daniel grimaced as he searched for the right way to explain things to his young nephew. “Why were we in London?”
“So that I could sign a document that says I want to stay under your guardianship.”
“And have it witnessed by powerful men.”
Stefan nodded.
“But your grandfather says you want him as your guardian, that your mother has damaged you, and that he knows what is best for you. He has people who will swear to that.”
“But it’s not true.”
“Are you sure? You’re awfully young to be an earl. Maybe you’re not—”
“I know who I am and what I want!” the boy snapped, outrage in every bone in his body.
“So who knows if Miss Li-Na is a lady?”
The boy frowned. “She does?”
“And only her. And until she says differently, we will treat her as a lady. Do you understand?”
The boy did. Sadly, his mother did not. Fifteen minutes later, the countess had kissed her son hello and sent him off to a bath only to round on Daniel with a full list of Li-Na’s crimes.
“All day!” she exclaimed. “She spent the day helping to rebuild a pig wallow. Can you imagine?”
No, he could not. “How do you know about this?”
“Everyone was talking about it. Mrs. Hocking took her to the event, and she spoke with anyone who would talk to her. Asking all sorts of questions.”
“What questions?”
“Well how should I know? Just that she was asking, and everyone was talking about it. Really, Daniel, must you expose my children to such people? You need to keep your mistresses hidden—”
“She’s not my mistress!”
“She’s not a bookkeeper if she’s talking to people while they’re remaking a pig wallow.” She pierced him with a hard glare. “What else are people to think if she’s living with you? Decent women don’t do that.”
“Those are the only possibilities then? Bookkeeper or mistress?”
“Or witch.” Nessie sighed as if Daniel were the greatest lackwit. “We all understand your fascination with the foreign, but it really must stop at the art pieces. You cannot collect women just to have them wander the village asking things. It disrupts everything and people start talking.”
Just like everyone in London was talking. He began to see why Li-Na spent her time in London covered in widow’s weeds. “Has she insulted you in any way?”
“Me? Of course not. I wouldn’t allow it.”
“Then perhaps you should stop listening to gossip—”
“Do not instruct me on how to go on. There’s the way things work and ways they do not. You aren’t here enough to know that, but I am.” Her words were interrupted by a screech of outrage. One that accelerated into a fit of hysterics that filled the room despite them being a floor beneath the nursery.
“Joseph?” Daniel asked.
She nodded. “He was finally settled in the inn, but this return home has upset things again. We’re managing of course, but the paint smell is awful and the garden is upset. I should not have returned here so early, but I could not abide the noise at the inn. Too many people going in and out. I thought this would be better.”
“Would you like me to go help? Perhaps I could—”
“You? Goodness no. He’s used to you, but that doesn’t mean he prefers you. And when he gets like this, he just needs to cry himself out.” They both winced as another loud screech filled the air. Nessie sighed and pushed up from her chair. “I will go see to him. You go handle your mistress.”
“She is not my mistress!” he huffed.
“Then make it clear to everyone exactly what she is before the talk becomes impossible to ignore!”
He didn’t respond. It wasn’t worth his breath. And while she went upstairs to help Nanny with Joseph, he took his time wandering through the restored manor home. The repair wasn’t complete. Indeed, the left wing of the house was not yet habitable with unpainted walls and dirty floors. He was pleased to see that the construction looked solid, and he wondered again why his usually fussy sister-in-law had returned to the manor so early. He had thought she would spend at least another month in the inn.
Then he chanced to overhear a maid and footman speaking outside the door that led to the back garden. Their tones were low, but he could hear them clearly enough, especially as he listened from right inside the door.
“She asked about the linens!” the woman was saying. “I heard it myself. About how to wash them, who does the washes, who says when they’re torn and need to be tossed to the rubbish. Imagine not knowing how to wash.”
“Did you tell her?”
“Not me! It’s not my place to educate a Chinese princess, but Fran did. She can’t stop talking, that one. Told her every bit of it and that woman just nods and says thank you. Like she’d just learned the secrets of making gold. Thank you.”
“Wasn’t that nice of her. To thank—”
“Course it was nice, but I don’t trust it. Lord Daniel’s always bringing in crazy things, now he’s bringing in crazy women. What does a Chinese princess want to know how to wash linens for? It’s crazy, and I won’t tolerate it here. That’s what I told the countess.”
“What did she say?”
“What did she say? She said that she didn’t like Lord Daniel sending a foreign woman to spy on us, that’s what. And I’m not the only one who said it. She told me they were all talking about it at the inn. How much to buy wheat or corn. What do the pigs eat and who pays for it. All that kind of nonsense. She’s always nice about it. Always finds someone to talk. But then the whole village talks about her. I heard it all last night we were at the inn.”
Daniel cringed. So that was what sent Nessie running back to the manor house early. Nessie fully understood that gossip was the life blood of a village, but she disliked it when that life blood centered on something she considered inappropriate. A foreign spy would definitely be inappropriate. As would a Chinese princess. As would a mistress, bookkeeper, or anything else that Daniel did that was out of the norm.
And what would Nessie consider appropriate gossip? The progress of the manor home as it was repaired. The latest news from London. The widow Greeves’ pig or an unwed girl’s pregnancy. Those were the normal things of gossip, but Daniel’s life was not normal, as she had told him many times. And when the gossip centered on his mad doings, that was unacceptable.
And it was. Not because of the gossip, but because Li-Na had been the subject of it. He needed to have a frank talk with her to find out exactly what she’d been doing while he was gone and why.
Chapter Twenty-One
Li-Na heard him come in. After weeks in this castle, she had gotten used to every sound whether it be the wind against the stonework or the tromp of Mr. Gummo as he brought in fresh eggs. But in this case, she saw Lord Daniel too because she was sitting outside, high on a battlement, as she watched the stars and thought about him.
He was stomping along the path, occasionally kicking at a stone or whipping his cane at a nearby brush. That told her he was in a temper, and she wondered if she should reveal herself. She was still debating the logic when she called out to him. He had filled her thoughts too much for her to not see his face lift up to the stars.
“Good evening, Lord Daniel!” she cried.
He jolted and looked up. “What are you doing up there? It’s not safe!”
“You come out here all the time. Mrs. Hocking said so.”
With the moonlight on his face, she could see him purse his lips and mutter. “Everyone talks too damn much.” Then before she could respond, he held up his hand. “Stay there. I’ll join you. There are some things I want to ask.”
She nodded and waited while the squiggles twisted and squirmed inside her. Two weeks ago, she’d felt abandoned and confused when he’d left. Part of her had been determined to be cold to him when he returned. She’d wanted to show him that his presence or absence made no difference to her internal peace. But after two weeks, she was happy to see him, excited to tell him everything she’d learned in his absence, and very interested to find out if he would kiss her again.
She hadn’t felt this giddy excitement since she’d been a young woman in China. To experience it now with her tiger of a man in Cornwall seemed bizarre. And yet, here she was, kicking her feet against the stone like a child waiting for a treat. And why was he taking so long?
He came up to the battlement silently. If she hadn’t been watching for him, she would have been startled. He was a tiger who was no longer growling in annoyance. He’d returned to his usual silent grace as he moved toward her.
“I hear you’ve been busy,” he said as he dropped a large cushion down. She’d been leaning back against the battlements, a blanket tucked around her legs as she looked up at the stars. He placed the cushion against the stone walls, settling so that they both could lean against it. But he didn’t sit down. He stood above her, scanning the land around him like a king surveying his land. Then he looked up at the sky before finally turning to her.
“Are you comfortable?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She’d even figured out how to make a hot cup of tea which now rested on the opposite side of her.
“You’ve set the village to talking.”
She nodded. It had been inevitable, but she’d done her best to be friendly and not intrusive. Still, she was about to set backs up even higher.
“I had to check the prices of things,” she said. “Your steward has been embezzling a great deal of money from the estate. He charges you for labor which the people give for free. He charges you for goods at three times the price. I believe he keeps the difference for himself. According to Mrs. Hocking, he has a mistress in Ladock who lives lavishly at your expense.”
“The devil you say.”
She nodded. “I will show you the figures. The amounts are not big one by one, but they add up.”
“How much do they add up? It’s common practice for stewards to skim a little.”
She had heard that was true. Mrs. Dove-Lyon had explained as much when Li-Na had asked about customers who were not titled and yet had plenty of money for the tables. Which meant that Lord Daniel would have to decide how much theft he would tolerate.
“I will show you the figures.” She started to get up, but he held out his hand to stop her.
“No, no. Not now.” He blew out a breath. “It’s the middle of the night, and I have no head for numbers right now.”
It wasn’t that late. She had spent most evenings up here, thinking about the stars, her life, and him. Always him. Such tales she had heard about him. He’d been a rough and tumble boy, always digging into things but somehow never quite as delightful as his older brother. He’d been strong enough to help when fixing fences or digging ditches, but never had the amused indulgence that was given to Peder. Every tale slid into a funnier one about his older brother who had been a scapegrace, to be sure. Mischief incarnate, they said, whereas Lord Daniel had been the one who did the work in his brother’s shadow.
