Lyon Hearted, page 22
“Always.”
And so, she took her fears in hand and tossed them aside. She would paint them out tomorrow, but for now she faced the Prince Regent, all while thinking of Daniel. Her words were for her love, even as she appeared to speak to the Prince Regent.
“What image can I give to a man who is ferocious and yet carries himself with grace? One who has the power to destroy, and yet chooses instead to watch and protect?”
She smiled at the Prince Regent, steeling herself for his gaze to rake her body. But in this she was surprised. He appeared to be thinking of her words. His lips were pursed, and his brows rose as he seemed to consider the thought.
“Can you not guess?” she asked. Then she whipped off the cover. There in the center of her picture was Daniel as she envisioned him. A tiger on a ledge, his claws fierce, his eyes piercing. In her mind’s eye, he gazed over his territory as he protected all who lived within it. But on the canvas, the creature turned to the viewer. His gaze was mesmerizing—at least to her—and she knew it could turn deadly as easily as it could remain warm.
“A tiger!” the Prince Regent cried. “Well, that’s certainly unusual. And so fierce!” Then he waved at the animal creeping into the painting from behind the tiger. “But what…what is that thing?”
“A monkey, Your Highness. See how happy she is? She is content in the tiger’s realm.”
“Of course, he’s content! He’s stealing from the tiger,” the Prince Regent said, unconsciously switching the monkey’s gender. Then he grunted. “There’s always someone, isn’t there? But why doesn’t the tiger just eat him?”
That wasn’t at all what she’d meant by the image, but she knew better than to disagree with royalty. “He will,” she said. “Look into his eyes, Your Highness. Can you not see his power?” She did. Every time she looked at Daniel.
“But he’s not looking at the monkey. He needs to turn around.”
“He will, Your Highness. Just like you will. But for the moment, the warning is for the viewer. To the one who would think to emulate the monkey. It will not work.”
“No, I disagree,” the Prince Regent continued. “I think the monkey encourages the viewer. I think it says, just wait until he turns around, then you can do anything you want. But I can’t always be looking everywhere at once!”
Obviously, there was some grievance here. Prinny felt someone was attacking him whenever his back was turned, and no wonder. She had seen the broadsides. Every day sported a new attack.
“Your Highness,” Daniel began as he stepped forward. “Don’t look at the monkey. See the power in the tiger. Sinews of steel, eyes that cut and demand the world surrender to his will.”
“But the monkey is right there. He should be wiped out. A few slashes of the brush and he will be gone forever.”
Li-Na shuddered at his words. The Prince Regent didn’t know that she was the monkey, living well under Daniel’s protection. She was safe to eat whatever she wanted while he defended her from every danger. The idea that she could be wiped out with a single brushstroke had her shuddering with fear. And what was Daniel doing? What he always did, of course. He was directing the Prince Regent’s attention elsewhere. To the tiger, to the artwork, to everything but seeing her.
Unfortunately, Prinny would have none of it. He was growing surlier by the second, and so Li-Na had to fix it. It was her painting, after all, and her thoughts.
“He’s right,” she said loudly, as she stepped out from behind Daniel. Everyone looked at him, but it was Daniel who spoke.
“Your painting is beautiful, Li-Na.”
She smiled. Of course, he thought she was worried about that. But her paintings weren’t about beauty. They were about her thoughts given voice. And since this painting wasn’t about the Prince Regent, he naturally felt the wrongness of it. And so, she made an offer, one that she had never made to anyone before.
“Your Highness, I must apologize. I had never met you before,” she said. “How could I paint someone I’d never seen?”
“Well, that’s true,” the man said. “And yet so many people try.”
“Very unfairly, Your Highness,” agreed Daniel. He shot her a panicked look. The Prince Regent was losing interest in her art, but Daniel needed his attention. He needed the Prince Regent’s interest in buying the work. Otherwise, how could he barter it for help protecting his nephew?
Fortunately, Li-Na had an answer. “Perhaps I can make amends then,” she said. “There are no lions in China. I had never heard of them until I came here.”
The Prince Regent’s eyes widened. “You’d never even heard of one?”
She shook her head. “And now I see that you are a lion. How could I have missed that?”
“Well, if you’d never met me and never even heard of a lion—”
“You are most kind. But if I may, now that I have met you, I could paint one now just for you.”
“Now? But I cannot be sitting here for days on end while you paint. You’re not a royal artist, and—”
“No, no!” she cried. “I could never hold such a position. But my art is different than oil painting. It is done faster than such great works as those.” She gestured to the oil paintings that surrounded them. “If you would but sit a moment. My supplies are in the carriage. I can paint while you and Lord Daniel discuss matters of import.”
The Prince Regent frowned. “Matters of import? What matters?”
Daniel flashed her a grateful smile then stepped forward. “Nothing, Your Highness. She refers to my poor nephew who is being sorely abused by his grandfather, Lord Gordon.”
“Gordon? What’s that curmudgeon up to now?”
“Well, Your Highness,” Daniel said, “you would not believe the audacity.”
“Of course, I would.” The Prince Regent gestured to the footman nearest the easel. “Get her paints. I shall watch her draw me as a lion.” Then he turned to Daniel. “And you shall entertain me with tales of rude old men.”
“Well,” Daniel said with a grin. “One of them at least.”
So it was done. A footman brought her paper, ink, and her brushes. She was lucky that Bessie had thought to include that in the carriage “just in case.” She was also fortunate to see several lions throughout the room. They were carved into furniture and painted on tables. Everywhere she looked, she saw examples, and she drew her inspiration from them. She also poured her thoughts into every brushstroke. She thought of the Prince Regent who was large in body, powerful in government, and yet still craved the attention of everyone around him. And instead of beginning with the eyes, as she’d done with Daniel, she began with the top of his head. His crown, so to speak, and she drew sweeping lines for his glorious body.
She also tried to hide that her thoughts there were more of Daniel than the corpulent royal.
Meanwhile, the men chatted in a way that was mostly gossip. They traded tidbits about people she knew from the gaming hell and people she did not. There was much laughter behind her and a great deal of outrage. But none of it touched her, none of it frightened her. Every time she heard Daniel’s voice, her heart steadied and her mind returned to her painting. She was safe so long as he was here.
It took more than an hour to complete the work, but in that time, she found that she could draw for benefit. That her work could be not simply a pure reflection of her thoughts, but a piece given for purpose. It wasn’t her preferred method, but for Daniel, she had done it.
She hoped he would like it.
She set aside her brush and stepped back. Then she folded her hands and dropped her head as she gave honor to the Prince Regent. “A lion,” she declared. “Regal, powerful.”
Daniel stood up, coming closer as if drawn. “Such awesome magnificence,” he breathed. Then he pointed to different strokes. “See here, how the mane bursts from the forehead. It looks like a crown, doesn’t it? And here, where the paper seems to shimmer.”
The paper did not shimmer, but she had worked around flaws in the texture that reflected light in different ways.
“And here…Look here…” He continued as if in rapture while the Prince Regent stood back and seemed to ponder what he saw. And in the end, he nodded.
“Very good,” he finally said. “But it’s all in black.”
“Such is the custom of Chinoiserie,” Daniel said.
It wasn’t true. Many great artists in China used color. She just wasn’t one of them.
“I see that,” the Prince Regent said. “It’s proof right there that England is superior even in art.”
Though that statement also wasn’t true, she bowed deeply to the Prince Regent. “And again, I am most fortunate to learn from you.” She turned back to the work. “If Your Highness will indulge me for a moment, perhaps I can learn from your instruction.”
She began to touch up her painting with color. She’d already planned for this but given what Daniel had said about the Prince Regent wanting to nurture artistic talent, she had made sure to allow for “instruction.” It brought him into the painting, allowing his thoughts to translate onto the canvas until it became his more than hers.
And in such a way, she caught a prince.
At first, he only stood behind and frowned. But when she would turn and arch a brow at him, he would come closer. He offered opinions that she brushed into the design. Yellow sun, gold highlights, and a purplish blue for his eyes. And as she worked, Daniel supplied a steady stream of intelligent compliments. He praised the stroke of the highlights of gold, admired the depth of the eyes, and stood amazed by the richness of the grass around the lion.
It was all nonsense except that he understood things she had never thought through before. The space between brushstrokes, the depth of ink next to the purity of white. He used other words too, speaking about tension, texture, and light. Such educated words that she had never thought to apply to her paintings, and that made her seem more talented than she thought she was. Before, she would have run from his words. She did not like her thoughts—her art—being analyzed in such a way. But it was Daniel who said those things, and Daniel understood her in ways she never felt before. He held her secrets, and she trusted him.
His voice bolstered her and reassured Prinny. Before long, everyone in the room declared the work a masterpiece of Chinoiserie. A beautiful work of art done by both herself and the Prince Regent. Indeed, she asked if she could write his name upon it in Chinese and was given permission.
“There,” she said as she finished painting his name phonetically in Chinese characters. “Your art, Your Majesty.”
“And where is your name?” he asked.
“This painting is for you, Your Highness. I cannot—”
“You painted it. I instructed you.” The Prince Regent leaned forward. “How can I make you famous if you do not sign your name?”
She bowed her head. What could she do? She wrote the character for her name Li-Na, but she would not put Zhong behind it. She was no longer the servile girl who had lived there. And she had no other name. He didn’t understand. Two characters or three made no difference to him. Already he was talking about how he would show her painting to all the great people in the West. That she would be admired by all. That he would make her a great success because he could see talent and art in the lowest bootblack or humblest serving maid.
She said nothing. She knew what was coming next. After all, he was a royal who had lately become enamored of her. His gaze was already on her bodice. His hands tugged her away from her painting as he pressed her fingertips to his arm. She would have to run and that would end all the goodwill between Daniel and the Prince Regent, but she would not go where he obviously wanted her.
“Come with me, my dear,” Prinny said as he tugged on her arm.
“No, Your Highness—” she began, but he was not a man to listen.
“Let us discuss how I can best show you to the world—”
“My liege!” Daniel interrupted.
The power in his voice was enough to give the Prince Regent pause. Li-Na turned to Daniel, fear in her heart that she was about to be sold again. He wouldn’t do that to her, would he? Even for Stefan.
“I have a favor to beg,” Daniel continued. “A modest request that I implore with my deepest heart.”
The Prince Regent arched his brows. “About Stefan, I presume?”
“No.” The word was flat and hard. “A request about Miss Li-Na,” he said.
The Prince Regent’s brows arched, and his hand tightened on top of hers. “Have a care, Lord Daniel. I will grant you one favor and one alone. Do I intervene on your nephew’s behalf?”
The threat was clear. If he wanted guardianship of his nephew, then he had to release her to the Prince Regent. She knew it, she felt it, and terror had her heart pounding in her throat.
“No.” Again, Daniel’s word came out hard, in a way that brooked no defiance. Not even from a king.
Li-Na bit her lip. What was he doing? Was he sacrificing Stefan for her? Beside her, the Prince Regent grew impatient, but as always, Daniel took his time.
“Well? What is it?” the royal demanded.
“I need your help to obtain a special license,” he said, his gaze on her. Then he stepped forward and tugged her hand off the prince’s arm. “And the use of St. James’s for a wedding.”
“What?” the Prince Regent cried.
What? She didn’t say the word aloud, but her thoughts pounded with the question, nonetheless.
“You may not have understood Li-Na’s signature, my liege, but I did. Li-Na is her full name. She has no surname.” Then Daniel lifted her hand to his mouth. And as he pressed his lips to her wrist, he sank down on one knee before her. “I should like to give her my name, if she will have me.”
Li-Na stared at him, lowered before her. Even though she had told him of her desire, never in her rational mind had she ever though he would do it. Certainly not now, not here. And while she stared at him, he continued to speak, his words ringing loud for all to hear.
“You have my heart and my protection, Li-Na. Always. But you have brought me so much more because you see me as no one else has. You make me feel whole, and I find I will be less without you. Marry me.”
“By Jove, you’re serious!” the Prince Regent said. Incredulity throbbed in every syllable, and no wonder. The man was the son of an earl and yet he wanted her? A Chinese woman with no name?
The idea was preposterous, but she could think of nothing better than to be one of his family forever. To bear his name, to be part of his life, to be looked at every day as he gazed up at her now. She saw hope and admiration in his eyes. She also saw so much love, which she returned a thousand-fold.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I should like that above all else.” After all, he had pulled her from a closed, gray world into a place where she had laughter and the sky. Where she could paint all day and abide in his arms at night. Where she was so much more than she’d ever been in London or even in China. “Yes.”
But the Prince Regent was still confused. And still holding onto her arm. “A wedding?”
Daniel grinned as he pulled her fully away from Prinny and into his hands. “I love her.”
“I love him,” she returned. But she had to know the truth, so she leaned close to whisper in his ear. “Is this to keep me away from him?”
“It is because I love you,” he said. Then as he straightened up to his full height, he kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her and claimed her mouth. And she gave herself to him.
She didn’t know how long they stood their kissing. Time always slipped away when in Daniel’s arms. But eventually they separated to the sound of applause. And when she turned, she saw the Prince Regent clapping his hands and laughing with good cheer.
“Very well,” he said. “It shall be done.”
It happened just as Prinny decided it would, in a whirlwind ceremony at the most exalted church in England. The Prince Regent attended, the ceremony was presided over by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Mrs. Dove-Lyon walked into a church for the first time in years so that she could stand as maid to Li-Na.
Also in attendance was Lord Gordon who bowed in obedience when the Prince Regent loudly informed him that he would be too busy to act as ward to Stefan because he was newly appointed to a diplomatic post in Australia.
Australia!
Daniel would be legal guardian to Stefan now, and Li-Na could see the relief on his face at the news.
“See what happens?” Bessie said as she embraced Li-Na. “Married in St. James’s to the son of an earl, all because you finally listened to me.”
“You’re right,” Li-Na said. “And thank you.”
Li-Na had arrived in London believing she’d been abandoned. Her heart had been broken in two because she’d realized she was in love. Now, her heart overflowed because they were joined together for life and because he said what she’d been afraid to admit.
“I love you,” he said right before he kissed her before God and Prince Regent.
“I love you,” she answered when she recovered her breath.
And she kept saying it with every stroke of her brush because the feelings kept flowing from her heart to her fingertips and onto the canvas.
She never painted squiggles again.
THE END
About the Author
A USA Today Bestseller, JADE LEE has been scripting love stories since she first picked up a set of paper dolls. Ball gowns and rakish lords caught her attention early (thank you Georgette Heyer), and her fascination with historical romance began. Author of more than 30 regency romances, Jade has a gift for creating a lively world, witty dialogue, and hot, sexy humor. Jade also writes contemporary and paranormal romance as Kathy Lyons. Together, they’ve won several industry awards, including the Prism—Best of the Best, Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice, and Fresh Fiction’s Steamiest Read. Even though Kathy (and Jade) have written over 60 romance novels, she’s just getting started. Check out her latest news at www.KathyLyons.com, Facebook: JadeLeeAuthor, and Twitter: JadeLeeAuthor. Instagram: KathyLyonsAuthor.
