For his part, he needed to figure out how to negotiate his honor with his desires.
Can I avenge my family and find joy for myself? Is it right for me to court a lady so far above me…and who is my pupil to boot? Now that I’ve tasted her sweetness, can I bring myself to let her go?
Thus, Wei had many things to discuss with Glory today. His past, their present, and perhaps even…even their future. While the agenda was not a little daunting, he felt a churning anticipation. He’d never known a woman whom he trusted enough to share his innermost thoughts and secrets. Never known that a female could incite such a heady mix of lust, liking, and longing. Never thought he’d find her in London of all places, when he’d all but abandoned that old dream of happiness.
Eager to see his little tigress, he strode to the door and rang the bell.
The butler greeted him, ushering him into the antechamber. “Wait here, sir.”
But he didn’t have to wait because Glory came rushing in, pretty as a picture in her butter-yellow dress. Then he noticed her wide eyes; she looked…oddly panicked? Before he could ask what was amiss, a tall, well-dressed gentleman emerged from the hallway behind her. With mahogany hair threaded with silver and a neatly groomed mustache and beard, the fellow had the kind of dashing good looks and lazy confidence that undoubtedly made him popular with the ladies.
His golden gaze, however, was sharp as a blade as he looked Wei up and down.
His eyebrow winged. “You must be the chap I’ve been hearing about.”
“Papa, may I present my shifu, Master Chen.” Glory wetted her lips nervously. “Master Chen, this is my father, the Duke of Ranelagh and Somerville.”
Waking up this morning at Livy’s house, Glory had felt groggy. Her body had been warm and relaxed as if she’d engaged in vigorous exercise…and then reality had hit her. Wei had said that he was attracted to her—and proved it in the carriage last night! Hugging a pillow to her chest, she’d dreamily relived those steamy moments.
Wei had been as masterful at lovemaking as he was everything else. His kiss, his touch…he’d gifted her with pleasure and made her feel beautiful. Her pussy fluttered, as did her heart. For Wei had also shown his trust in her by confiding about his past. About his unimaginable loss. And she was determined to help him find his family’s killer.
With that thought in mind, she’d rung for the maid, dressed, and went to find Livy. Fiona and Pippa had already arrived, cake box in hand, all agog to hear about Glory’s adventures last eve. Over a breakfast of Gunter’s delectable treats, Glory had blushingly acknowledged that Wei was indeed attracted to her, and the Angels had cheered and shared a happy dance around the drawing room. They’d created such a ruckus that Hadleigh had looked in. Used to his wife’s foibles by now, he’d shaken his head, lips twitching, and continued on his way.
After the celebrating, Glory had had to answer her friends’ questions about Wei’s behavior at the tannery. Since she could not betray Wei’s confidence, she’d merely affirmed that he’d had valid reasons for confronting the gang leader.
“Scott is proving a popular fellow.” Livy had tapped her chin. “Yet it was clear last night that the cages serve a human, rather than canine, purpose. And we saw no signs of Sir Barkley or any other dog. We have no actual proof of Scott’s involvement in the dognapping scheme…except for the charm worn by his dog Beauregard.”
“But Farwell showed up at the tannery,” Glory said. “That cannot be a coincidence.”
“You have a point,” Fi replied. “But the one he was talking to was Bryant, not Scott.”
“We should tail both Scott and Bryant.” Livy’s nod had been decisive. “Round the clock, and we shall see where that leads us.”
The Angels had divvied up shifts for the week. Then Glory had hurried to get ready, for her aunt was due to pick her up, and Wei had promised to come by her home this afternoon under the guise of giving her another lesson. She couldn’t wait to see him.
She’d lapsed into a romantic daydream when her ride arrived. To her surprise, it wasn’t Aunt Hypatia who’d come to fetch her but her parents. They had returned early from the house party. Glory had been excited to see them, but during the reunion back at home, Aunt Patty had mentioned Glory’s lessons with Wei. This had led to a barrage of parental questions; Papa, in particular, had seemed concerned about Glory’s unconventional new interest. While Glory adored her father, he tended to be overprotective. The only thing that had stalled his interrogation had been the arrival of Wei himself.
Which brought her to the present moment.
Papa and Mama were seated at the ends of the table, Glory and Wei across from each other in the middle. Glory’s aunt sat beside her whilst her brothers, twelve-year-old Horatio and ten-year-old Theodore, flanked Wei. Having seen a recent show at Astley’s Amphitheatre that had included Chinese acrobats and a demonstration of martial arts, the dark-haired boys were bombarding Wei with questions.
Can you break a stack of boards in half with your bare hand, Mr. Chen? How high can you leap into the air? Can you swallow a knife and jump through a ring of fire?
An amused glint in his eyes, Wei responded to her brothers with admirable patience. Yet they were not the only ones expressing curiosity. The reason her father had insisted that Wei join them for the meal soon became clear. In addition to lunch, Papa was apparently serving the Spanish Inquisition.
“Hypatia tells us that you are an accounted expert in pugilism and healing.” While Papa helped himself to pressed tongue and potted asparagus offered by one of the footmen, his gaze was narrowed upon Wei. “Odd combination, that.”
“I teach kung fu at my clinic, Your Grace,” Wei replied. “It is a healthful discipline that trains both the body and the mind. My teacher, Shifu Lam, belonged to an order of monks famed for their fighting and healing skills, and he passed on his knowledge to me.”
Glory was relieved at his courteousness. He’d been the perfect gentleman, handling her father’s grilling with remarkable equanimity for the last half hour. Since he’d dropped her off early this morning, he must have gone to bed later than she had, yet he radiated virility, the black waves of his hair gleaming, his somber clothing hugging his sculpted form.
“A monk, eh?” Cutting his meat into precise pieces, Papa smiled sardonically. “I don’t suppose you adhere to that tradition as well.”
Glory didn’t know what horrified her more: the personal nature of Papa’s inquiry or the possibility that he’d somehow guessed what was going on between her and Wei. With the exception of her investigative work, she tried not to keep things from her parents. But she wasn’t ready to expose her fledgling relationship to them. She and Wei had acted upon their attraction mere hours ago; they hadn’t addressed the topic of the future…which would, most likely, prove to be a complicated topic. She did not want to add outside interference to the mix until they’d had a chance to talk.
“No, Your Grace.” Wei met her father’s gaze squarely. “I have not taken any monastic vows.”
Glory’s heart pitter-pattered at his direct response. While many men kowtowed to her father’s ducal status, Wei did not. She adored his confidence and how comfortable he was in his own skin.
