“Yes, Papa.”
The cup rattled slightly in its saucer as she turned to face him, searching for an inconspicuous way to start a conversation about Wei. The problem was that her papa was no fool. People often underestimated him, not realizing that behind his dashing good looks was a mind like a steel trap.
“Is Mama still abed?” she asked.
Papa nodded. “She stayed up late after the ball.”
The hint of satisfaction in his voice made Glory want to cover her ears. Heavens, for years she’d been oblivious to sexual signals and now she was noticing them everywhere. Whilst her parents had always been affectionate with each other, she hadn’t thought too deeply about what went on in their private lives…and she wanted to keep it that way.
Papa led the way to the seating area, waving her to the divan whilst he folded his long frame into the studded wingchair.
“I have been meaning to speak with you,” he said.
Uh oh. His serious expression did not bode well.
She took a fortifying sip of tea. “What about?”
“How are you enjoying your Season?”
“You and Mama have given me everything a debutante could ask for,” she said sincerely.
“It is our pleasure to do so.” Papa drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, his signet ring glinting. “But you haven’t answered my question, poppet. Do you find the life of a debutante to your liking?”
I like being part of the Angels. I like solving cases and helping others. And I adore being with Wei and want to spend the rest of my life with him.
Yet she realized that none of these things had anything to do with being a debutante. Quite the opposite. All were activities that she had to sweep under the rug.
“What is not to like?” she countered.
“Where shall I start?”
At Papa’s wry rejoinder, she had to chuckle, some of her tension ebbing. Even before she knew Papa was her father, they had always had a special connection…an ability to understand each other and a shared way of viewing the world. Perhaps he could understand her desire to marry Wei. Perhaps she ought to throw caution to the wind and tell him about her feelings for her shifu and ask for his blessing.
She tested the waters. “Perhaps I find myself not entirely suited to convention.”
“You come by that naturally.” Papa stroked his trimmed beard, obviously choosing his words with care. “I haven’t been a paragon myself, particularly not in my younger days, and I can understand that Society’s rules can seem arbitrary and stifling. Being my daughter—the daughter of a peer—is a double-edged sword: whilst you have certain privileges, you are also subject to added scrutiny.”
“I know, Papa.” She canted her head. “What is this about?”
“Of late, I have noticed some changes in you.”
She stilled. Does he know about Wei?
“You seem uninterested in balls and the usual diversions,” Papa went on. “While Mama and I were away, Hypatia said you spent an inordinate amount of time with that society of yours. And you started taking lessons with this Chen fellow.”
Glory forced herself to stay calm and breathe.
“Master Chen is an expert in his field who has taught—”
“I don’t give a damn what he is. Glory, you are a duke’s daughter, and he runs a clinic treating opium users. It is not proper for you to be in his company.” Papa paused. “At the ball last night, there was talk when you danced with him.”
“What sort of talk?” But she already knew.
“The kind that can ruin a reputation if it continues,” Papa said flatly. “I think I understand what this is about, poppet.”
Her heart thumped. “Do you?”
“You are intelligent, curious, and independent. It is only natural that you should chafe against the restrictions of Society, some of which are stupid,” he acknowledged. “Trust me, I understand the desire to defy mindless convention.”
