Li-Na kept pace three steps in the rear, feeling reassured by the bustle in the yard. Compared to the silent emptiness of the castle, this place felt familiar to her. Noise filled the air along with a chaotic mixture of smells. Even the private dining room felt comfortably small.
Lord Daniel pulled out a chair for his sister-in-law. Stefan pulled another out for her.
“Thank you,” the ladies responded almost at the same time.
Li-Na was not accustomed to English dining customs, but she knew how to watch and imitate. The food was hearty, the wine good, and the conversation general. She participated only when spoken to. Most of the questions directed to her were about China, and she answered as best she could. They even allowed the boy to speak, and he talked with enthusiasm about how the post horses were fed something different than the family’s horses. The details were beyond her, but she was surprised to see the others listening with apparent interest. Could they all be fascinated by horse feed?
Was this what people in Cornwall did? Ate together and listened to their children? That was very odd to her. She’d been brought into the Zhong household to talk to the eldest daughter so that the adults didn’t need to.
England was very strange.
And yet as she listened to the ebb and flow of conversation, she found she liked it. Or more accurately, she liked how Lord Daniel presided over it all like the tiger he was. He did not speak often. The occasional question or response that kept the conversation going without dominating. But he watched it all in a well-fed cat kind of way. These people where his cubs, and so he would watch over them as the powerful creature he was.
Then disaster happened.
The youngest boy—Joseph—came in with his nanny to bid everyone goodnight. This too seemed very unusual to Li-Na. Apparently the countess felt the same way as well as she rushed to apologize.
“I am so sorry,” she said to the table at large. “I lost track of the time, and as I said, Joseph’s schedule is very exact. I would normally be upstairs by now. We have a routine.”
She left her chair to join the nanny who turned the boy to greet his uncle.
“Can you bow to Uncle Daniel?” the countess asked. “Joseph? Bow please.”
The boy did as he was bid and was rewarded with his uncle’s wide smile. “That was very nicely done, Joseph.”
“Yes, it was,” the countess echoed. “Do you think you can do it again, Joseph? Can you bow to Miss Li-Na?”
The boy was directed to face Li-Na. It was her first good look at the child, and she had to cover her surprise. She had expected a younger version of Stefan, but this boy’s features were somewhat flat, and his ears were small. His hair resembled his uncle’s, being short, brown, and curly, but there was a marked softness to the child that contrasted with his uncle and brother. Those two had sturdy frames and strong muscles.
She did not mean to study the boy, but in her mind’s eye, she drew a happy rabbit, plump and fluffy. And like the animal, the boy made no sound. He looked sideways at her—as a rabbit might—and showed no emotion at all.
“Can you bow to Miss Li-Na, Joseph?”
Apparently not because the boy did not dip his head. Instead, he walked directly up to her, his gaze sideways but still steady on her face.
What was she to do? She glanced quickly at Lord Daniel, but he gave no guidance, though he watched his nephew closely. Then the boy caught her full attention as he peered at her. He even placed both hands to her cheeks and pulled her close until they were nearly left eye to right eye. She had to lean down to do this, and once she was close enough, he touched his forehead—sideways—to hers.
She felt a quiet thump as his green eyes filled her vision. They remained like that for a very long time until the countess finally spoke.
“Come along, Joseph. It is time for bed.”
The boy did not move.
“Joseph, come away now. It is time for bed.”
Still the boy did not move, though his breath came faster.
“Third warning, Joseph. It is time to leave.”
The countess caught the boy’s wrist, and Li-Na gently pulled herself back. He did not want to let her go, but she would not help him disobey his mother. So while she leaned back from the child, she smiled.
“That was a lovely greeting, Joseph,” she said. “Thank you.”
He tilted his head as if to listen better to her, but the steady pressure of his mother’s hand upset him. She saw his face compress and his body tighten. So did the nanny. The woman was quick to swoop him up and out the door with the countess a step behind. The child’s scream could be clearly heard as they left. And as the door shut behind them, Stefan turned to her.
“I’ve never seen him do that.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.