Читать книгу A Dance with Danger - Jeannie Lin, Jeannie Lin - Страница 9

Chapter Two

An hour later, Yang was relocated to a private room at a local drinking house while the armed guards were sent away, tasked with returning the magistrate’s daughter home. For the moment he was left alone and he tried to use the opportunity to prepare some sort of explanation for being caught in a compromising position with Tan Li Kuo’s daughter.

Jin-mei, Tan had called her. The name was fitting. Clear like the ring of a morning bell. Audacious and impulsive Jin-mei, with her elegant phoenix eyes and her delightfully inelegant way of saying whatever was on her mind. Was it any wonder Yang had been thoroughly charmed?

She wasn’t innocent as much as she was without guile. Even the flush in her cheeks and the colour of her lips had been real, not painted on with rouge or gloss. Fresh-faced and quick-tongued. For someone accustomed to trickery, Jin-mei’s openness had bemused and bewitched him.

Maybe he had forgotten himself just a little in the park. He had a weakness for fascinating characters. Not just lovely, adventurous women, but for people in general. He’d been accused at one time of collecting people. Of keeping them handy for whenever they suited his purposes.

Yang straightened as Magistrate Tan entered the room. The other man closed the door behind him before seating himself across the table.

‘I didn’t know the young lady was your daughter.’

The steely-eyed look Tan shot him told Yang their long-time association was hanging by a thread. He wondered how many of the five punishments the magistrate considered exacting upon him at that moment.

Instead of slicing into him, Tan opted to pour the wine, though with a grave silence that was far from friendly. Tan Li Kuo was short in stature, with a sagging middle and a round moon-faced appearance that gave the impression of youth and ineptitude. As far as Yang could tell, Tan usually played down to that image.

Tan wasn’t playing any games at the present time. Yang swallowed and ran his hands over his knees as he searched for a way to salvage the situation. ‘About what happened—’

Ignoring him, Tan reached for his wine. Taken aback, Yang raised his cup as well and drank. At least they were trying to remain civil. The civility lasted only for a heartbeat.

‘What exactly were you doing with my daughter?’ Tan demanded sharply.

‘I was actually on my way to see you.’

The magistrate raised his eyebrows at that.

‘But there were guards about and I needed to remain hidden.’

‘So you lured Jin-mei into a dark and secluded area?’

Yang winced. ‘It was just the madness of the moment. Nothing happened, I assure you.’

Tan’s expression darkened at his feeble explanation. The truth was simple. Yang was a fugitive and Jin-mei had seen him. Coaxing her into hiding was preferable to either dragging her forcibly beneath the bridge so she couldn’t alert the guards, or fleeing for his life through the city. He doubted he would be able to convince the magistrate of that logic.

‘In any case, you shouldn’t be here.’ Tan kept his tone even. ‘I’ve kept your identity hidden, as promised. You should have disappeared into the mountains by now.’

Like a common bandit. Despite their alliance, the magistrate had never thought well of him. Tan was still an administrator at heart while Yang, for all his wealth and status, was an outlaw. More so now that he’d tried to murder a man with his own hands.

‘Wang Shizhen saw my face,’ he explained. ‘It won’t be long before he comes after me.’

‘You wanted him to see you,’ Tan replied calmly.

They had collaborated to assassinate the fearsome general at a private gathering. Though Magistrate Tan was a man of the law, he knew the best way to get rid of a tyrant was a quick sword through the weeds.

‘He was right in front of me. I had to do something.’

Tan stabbed a finger towards him in accusation. ‘You acted on emotion. That banquet was the only chance we’d had to do this cleanly and now that chance is gone.’

Yang took another drink, feeling the burn of it down his throat. General Wang Shizhen had wrested control of the northern part of the province where he ruled through intimidation. He and Tan had been plotting for a long time how to stop the warlord, but Yang hadn’t told the magistrate the real reason he wanted General Wang dead. A reason that went much deeper than personal gain or political rivalry.

That bastard had owed him blood. It wasn’t a moment’s impulse that had Yang sinking the knife into the general. It was a matter of family honour and a promise he’d made to himself as well as a cold and wandering spirit long ago.

‘Was it worth it?’ Tan asked quietly.

Yang regarded his accomplice. The magistrate was older and in many ways shrewder. He kept his secrets close and rarely revealed his intentions. Tan also preferred to remain safe in the shadows.

‘I wanted to look him in the eye,’ Yang confessed. ‘I wanted Wang Shizhen to know he was going to die and why.’

He had succeeded in sinking his knife into the warlord’s chest, but the satisfaction was only momentary. General Wang had survived the attack and would exact vengeance.

‘A mistake, my friend,’ Tan said with a sigh. ‘After months of careful planning.’

‘We’ll create another opportunity. Wang Shizhen has other enemies. We’ll find them.’

Magistrate Tan regarded him wordlessly, taking full measure of him with a keen eye. As the silence continued, an uneasy feeling gathered along Yang’s spine. The magistrate had already made things clear—this show of emotion was a weakness. Yang forced his hands to unclench.

‘I came back because I need your help. Wang has issued orders for my capture, but he won’t stop at that.’

‘I don’t see what I can do for you.’

Yang swallowed his pride. ‘I need your protection. Not for myself, but for my family.’

What family he had left. The war had begun. There was a time when General Wang had thought Yang was completely under his thumb, but now the truth was out.

‘We knew what the consequences were if we failed,’ Tan replied. ‘Your best option now is to flee. Get as far away from the general’s stronghold as possible.’

The magistrate was very careful with words. It didn’t escape Yang’s notice that Tan hadn’t yet answered his request. Tan Li Kuo had co-ordinated the attack through coded messages from hidden meeting places. No one aside from Yang knew of his involvement.

‘Are we no longer friends then?’ he asked warily.

The question itself was a falsehood. They’d never been friends. Tan was the most powerful ally he had, but he could also be a formidable enemy.

Tan held his gaze for a long time. Too many people mistook the lack of sharpness in his rounded features as a sign of dullness, but they couldn’t be more wrong. The magistrate used those assumptions to his advantage, often taking on a cheerful, careless manner, yet he made no effort to portray such an image now. A deep line formed between his eyes.

‘I am very disappointed,’ he remarked finally.

‘As am I. It was the difference of a finger’s length. Life and death.’ Yang downed the rest of the wine and set his cup on to the table in agitation.

Tan hadn’t touched his drink the entire time. ‘Not about Wang Shizhen. You speak passionately of your family, Mister Bao. Yet what of my family? There’s still the question of my daughter.’

‘Your daughter?’

The moment after the question left his lips, Yang regretted it. Apparently that matter wasn’t closed. ‘I sincerely apologise for any impolite behaviour on my part.’

‘Impolite is a rather mild way of putting it.’ The magistrate’s frown deepened. ‘There were too many eyes at the park today to keep the incident quiet.’

Yang cursed himself for being so blind. He had misread the official’s growing displeasure as apprehension over the failed assassination plot. But Tan Li Kuo was a father who had just found his daughter in a scandalous position. Family honour would always come first.

‘She is my only daughter. To have her shamed so publicly is unacceptable. There is only one acceptable resolution. A gentleman such as yourself must see it as well.’

Tan couldn’t possibly be suggesting...

‘But there’s a price on my head,’ Yang protested.

‘To the north,’ the magistrate replied coolly. ‘Wang Shizhen holds no authority here.’

Yang hadn’t realised how dangerous his situation was until that moment. He needed Tan’s protection to keep his family safe, but worse than that, he himself was completely at Tan’s mercy.

He had publicly insulted the magistrate’s daughter and there was only one way for Tan to save face. All in all, it wasn’t the worst of solutions. It would tie the two of them closer together, and Yang needed a powerful ally. And having the lovely Jin-mei as his wife was hardly punishment. Maybe fortune was still smiling on him.

‘If the magistrate would allow this unworthy servant to make amends...’ Yang took a deep breath, letting the turn of events sink in ‘...may I ask permission to marry your daughter?’

* * *

Jin-mei stabbed the needle into the handkerchief and set it aside. ‘Must we spend all day embroidering?’ She pressed her hands to her lower back and attempted to stretch. ‘We’ve been here for hours. My back hurts. My eyes hurt. Even my fingertips hurt.’

Lady Yi, her father’s wife, let out a pleasant little laugh while her needle continued to fly in and out of the silk. They were in Lady’s Yi’s sitting room. Though they had started at the same time, a hummingbird with green-tipped wings had emerged on her stepmother’s handkerchief along with a vibrant red peony for the little creature to hover over. Jin-mei had only completed one crane in what was supposed to be a pair soaring through the clouds.

‘We can’t stop now. The wedding is only three days away,’ Lady Yi chided gently.

‘Yes, the wedding.’ Why did her chest draw tight whenever anyone mentioned the wedding? Her pulse quickened with what could be either excitement or fear. She was pretty certain it was fear. Jin-mei took a breath to try to calm herself.

The day after their meeting in the park, Bao Yang had brought gifts and sat with her and Father for tea. After that an astrologer was immediately consulted to choose an auspicious date for their union. Between the stars and the moon and their birth dates, a good date just happened to be occurring only a week later. How convenient.

She picked up her embroidery and continued working on the wings of her crane. Though she wasn’t as clever and quick as Lady Yi with the needle, she was competent. She was also meticulous. She hated nothing more than making mistakes and having to pick out the stitches.

The handkerchief was a square of blue silk decorated with a pair of cranes to symbolise love and union. It was meant to be added to the dowry that would be sent to Bao Yang to show off her skill with the needle and thus desirability as a wife.

‘All of this rush is completely unnecessary,’ Jin-mei complained. ‘We were only alone for a moment. It wasn’t as if he had any time to debauch me.’

‘Jin-mei!’ her stepmother scolded lightly.

‘It’s true.’

Though he’d stood so close, almost holding her in his arms. She’d thought of those moments a hundred times over the past days, seeing Bao Yang’s crooked smile and how the light from above had cast his face in dark shadows. If they hadn’t been interrupted, he might have kissed her.

That last part was her own imagination. She had a more vivid imagination for events than she did embroidery designs. Yang seemed to be the sort of man who would know how to kiss. Her heart was beating faster again. This time she was pretty certain it was excitement.

‘Father never seemed so rigid about etiquette in the past,’ Jin-mei pointed out, starting on the second of the cranes.

‘You’re his daughter. His treasure.’

Her heart warmed a bit. She was her father’s daughter and always had been. Mother had been his first wife, but she took sick and passed away when Jin-mei was still young. For years after that, it had been only the two of them while Father was working for the census bureau and making a name for himself. Lady Yi had given birth to two sons much later, but Jin-mei remained his only daughter.

‘You remind him of your mother,’ Lady Yi said gently. ‘The love of his life.’

Jin-mei looked down, embarrassed. ‘Don’t talk like that, Lady Yi.’

‘It’s true. He’s never forgotten her. I don’t mind,’ she assured with a little smile ‘Your father is a good husband. I couldn’t wish for a better one.’

Her stepmother was so good-natured. Jin-mei had always believed he’d chosen Lady Yi to bring balance to their household. Jin-mei had inherited her father’s intense and driven nature, but where could ambition possibly lead in a woman?

Apparently to the pursuit of a husband. Jin-mei had been intent on wooing Yang with her intelligence, hadn’t she? She had dreamed of him since the first time she’d seen him in their parlour when she was fourteen and hopeless to let him know she existed. Years later, nothing had gone according to plan, but he had indeed finally noticed her and they were now betrothed. Yet she couldn’t be rid of this sick feeling in her stomach.

‘Lady Yi, I don’t know how to explain this, but I’m worried.’

Her eyebrows lifted. ‘Worried?’

It was obvious Yang had been coerced into proposing marriage. ‘What if he doesn’t want me?’

Lady Yi set her needle into the cloth. ‘I understand.’

‘You do?’

Her stepmother moved to the trunk in the corner. She tossed a sly look over her shoulder before lifting the lid.

‘This is my wedding gift to you.’ Lady Yi returned with something wrapped in red silk and placed it in Jin-mei’s lap. The object was round and had some heft to it.

‘Shall I open this now?’

‘Well, certainly before the wedding.’ Lady Yi sat back on her stool to watch expectantly.

Jin-mei unwrapped the silk to reveal a bronze mirror. ‘How beautiful!’

There was a gleam in Lady Yi’s eye. ‘Look at the other side.’

The back of the mirror was elaborately engraved. She read the inscription aloud. ‘In front of the flowers and under the moon.’

The design in between the characters wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen. She bent to take a closer look. ‘Oh, heaven!’

Now she understood the reason behind Lady Yi’s sly smile. There were engravings of four different couples on the back; men and women joined together with arms and legs intertwined. Her cheeks heated as she stared at the figures, but she couldn’t drag her eyes away.

‘With your mother gone, it is my responsibility to instruct you on such matters.’

Jin-mei was still examining the explicit images. She had thought herself confused when all she knew of coupling was from poems that alluded to the clouds and the rain. Now she gaped at the mirror, turning it sideways and then back. ‘How is this...possible?’

‘Everything manages to find its place,’ Lady Yi said wisely. ‘Men and women are made to fit together.’

And they seemed to fit in interesting ways at that. Bronze arms and legs writhed over the back of the mirror. In three days, she was to share her marital bed with Yang doing that. Her throat went dry.

A knock on the door made her jump. Hastily, she dragged her embroidery over her lap just as her father entered.

‘Husband.’ Lady Yi stood to greet him. ‘We are nearly finished putting Jin-mei’s dowry together. She is very excited about the wedding.’

Father nodded and laid a hand over Lady Yi’s shoulder. Her stepmother always appeared so delicate next to Father’s heavier build. ‘May I speak to my daughter privately?’

This was worse than the time Father had caught her sneaking out to the Spring Lantern Festival. With her face burning, she glanced down at her lap. The mirror wasn’t entirely covered. An image of a man lying on his back with the woman straddled on top of him peeked out from the corner of the silk. Her stepmother’s delaying tactics as she turned to make a comment to her husband gave Jin-mei enough time to pull the handkerchief over the amorous couple.

Lady Yi then exited the room, and Father pulled the stool beside her before sitting down. ‘How is my daughter?’

‘Well.’ Her voice was pitched a note too high. ‘How was Father’s trip?’

Father grunted. ‘A disaster, but everything is taken care of now.’ With a deep breath, he met her eyes. ‘I left so quickly after the betrothal, I never asked you whether you had any objections to this marriage.’

‘What objections would I have?’ she asked. ‘Mister Bao is a long-time friend of Father’s. He seems a gentleman.’

She’d looked away while saying it. Her father would undoubtedly notice. All of a sudden, she wondered if he could read the events of that fateful afternoon on her face: how she’d tried to flirt instead of walking away, Bao Yang disappearing beneath the bridge with her following like an eager young duckling. Then there was the near kiss—even if that had only been in her own imagination.

‘My only objection is having to leave you,’ she said, as a dutiful daughter should.

‘Dear girl, you can’t stay with this old man for ever.’

A tiny ache grew in Jin-mei’s chest. She would miss him. As excited as she was at the prospect of being wed to someone she found to her liking, this was the end of her childhood. She would leave home to become part of a new family she knew so little about.

‘Bao Yang said something to me that I’ve been wondering about. He told me if he was discovered, his life would be in danger.’

Her father frowned. ‘When did he say such a thing?’

‘In the park. That was why he went to hide beneath the bridge.’

Yang had made it sound as if she had the power of life and death over him. The situation was so startling and exciting that before she knew what was happening, she was beneath the bridge and practically in his arms.

‘Mister Bao isn’t in any danger,’ Father assured. ‘He must have been teasing you.’

It hadn’t seemed as though he was teasing, but she would have to trust her father on this. Yang was a guest in their villa outside the city while awaiting the wedding date. Certainly there was no danger for him there.

Father kissed her forehead. ‘Now I must go to the tribunal, but we’ll have dinner together this evening. Not too many more meals before my daughter is a married woman, hmm?’

She ducked her head shyly. ‘Yes, Father.’

He pinched her cheek, something he hadn’t done for years. She usually hated the gesture, but today she didn’t mind so much. She listened for the door to close before setting the bronze mirror aside.

‘Is everything all right?’ Lady Yi asked when she returned to her stool.

‘Yes, of course,’ Jin-mei said, picking up her embroidery.

They set about once again working on their designs, but Jin-mei couldn’t escape the nagging feeling at the back of her mind.

When she was very young, Father had explained to her that magistrates were trained to read faces in order to discern whether a subject was telling the truth or lying. The discipline was called reading the five signs. The easiest trick was to watch the eyes: look for a twitch to the left or right, rapid blinking, the inability to focus. Father’s skill had made it very hard for her to misbehave during her childhood.

Perhaps because of such training, her father’s gaze was difficult to decipher. Jin-mei had learned instead to watch his mouth. After she’d asked about Yang’s remark, Father’s mouth had tightened for half a count before twitching into a grin. For that one breath, he had been calculating what to say to her, carefully constructing his response. If she were a magistrate, she would have insisted her father was hiding something.