Burning Tigress

by Jade Lee

  "La, sir," she trilled to cover her surprise, "are you flirting with me?"

  He squeezed her hand as his smile broadened and his gaze intensified. "I am saying that I feel richly blessed. These last days, Char..." His voice faded as he struggled for the words. "I will remember them for the rest of my life."

  She swallowed, instinctively flinching away from any thought of the future. So she focused on the present—on the sunlight as it lit the black velvet of his hair, on the crinkles at the corner of his eyes when he smiled at her, and on the curve of his lips, the strength of his hands, and the joy she felt when they were together.

  "I love you, Ken Jin." The words were out before she truly understood their meaning, before she even labeled the emotion swelling inside her. But once said, she did not regret them. If nothing else, they would both know what she felt.

  She waited in silence, aware that he was shocked. His hands went slack. His eyes were dark, his gaze steady. So steady that he couldn't be breathing.

  "It's not because of... because of what we've been doing," she stammered, to fill the silence. "I love it, but I don't love you because of that. It's because of you, of who you are and how I feel when I'm with you."

  He blinked. Then he took a sudden, deep breath. "I understand, Miss Charlotte."

  "Miss Charlotte?" Disappointment blew through her body. "What happened to Char?"

  He turned to look at her. "Char, then," he whispered. There was a wealth of meaning behind his tone, but she didn't understand it.

  "Ken Jin—"

  He kissed her then, swift and hard, right there on the street for all to see. She softened into it immediately. Her lips clung to his and her mouth slipped open, but he was already drawing away. She was left touching empty air, and she flushed in embarrassment.

  "You do me a great honor," he said, his words obviously heartfelt; and yet she felt flat. Crushed, even.

  " 'A great honor,'" she echoed weakly. No words of love. No...

  "You are upset," he said. Now his voice was unsteady; now he showed an emotion other than shock. He'd moved on to confused.

  "Men usually say they love you back." She sighed. "Even if they don't mean it."

  Ken Jin drew the donkey cart to a stop before a grand building. When he spoke, it was to the space between the donkey's ears. "A eunuch loves no one but the Emperor. To say otherwise is blasphemy."

  "You're not a eunuch yet," she snapped. She knew she was covering her hurt with anger, but she couldn't stop herself.

  Then he turned, and she saw the torment in his eyes. "I am already sterilized, Miss Charlotte. In my mind, I have already committed myself to this act." He waited a moment longer. She thought he had more to say, that he had something important to tell her. But he looked away. "We have arrived at last," he said to the donkey.

  She looked up to see a grand gate entrance with thick red doors flanked by drum stones topped by dragon heads. Old men played Go and smoked across the street, but here all had an imposing silence. Even the trees didn't rustle and they barely provided shade from the glaring afternoon light.

  Ken Jin tended the donkey, setting up food and water for it right in the street, while Charlotte did her best to fluff her hair. There was no appearing respectable, not when she wore creased pants and a threadbare tunic, but she didn't want to frighten Ken Jin's son. Then she heard the old men hiss and curse behind her. She turned, wondering what was wrong, only to watch them making signs of protection as they glared at her.

  She understood immediately, and covered her hair. Her white skin had darkened after days in the sunlight, but not enough to appear anything but what she was: a ghost woman in Chinese Peking.

  The old men's rancor gained in ferocity. Ken Jin was at her side in a moment. He stood between her and the men, even while aiming her inside. The gate was open—probably to catch what minimal breeze whispered down this ancient lane—and so she easily climbed the three steps up and slipped through, skirting around the screen designed to deflect wandering spirits. Ken Jin joined her a moment later, his face set in a tight frown.

  "Will Yi-tou be all right?" she whispered, using her pet name for the donkey.

  He nodded. "I have told those men we are on the Emperor's business."

  She gestured to his ragged pants and dirty shirt. "Did they believe you?"

  He shook his head. "No, but they will not take the chance of being wrong."

  She would have said more, but household servants had appeared. Only one was supposed to greet them—a rather large and imposing butler—but a kitchen maid and an upstairs maid peered goggle-eyed around the corner as well. Ken Jin did not give any of them the time to speak.

  "Tell my brother that Ken Jin is here to see him."

  The butler paused, and Charlotte got to watch a Chinese butler show disdain. The English sniff and step haughtily away; the Chinese spit. And if they cannot—as this man obviously could not do to his master's brother—then they act as if they would spit. He pursed his lips and scrunched his face. He paused, as if deciding what to do.

  "Now, dog, or I shall have you whipped!" Ken Jin's low voice carried clearly through the courtyard. Everyone scurried away, even the maids. Then Ken Jin turned to Charlotte. She saw a note of warning in his eyes, but again there was no time to speak as a young boy came bellowing into the courtyard from the inner quarters.

  "Aie-yi-yi-yi-yi!" He punctuated each of his squeals with a tiny jump over the courtyard steps. Following behind him in a breathless flurry of skirts came one woman and two maids, obviously playing Follow the Leader.

  "Aie-yi-yi," one of them gasped. As she was dressed better than the other ladies and had tiny bound feet, Charlotte guessed her to be the boy's mother. The others were just pretending to hop. Though they had natural feet, they appeared too tired to play earnestly.

  The boy spun around and aimed a colored toy stick at the women. "You didn't make the call!"

  "Aie-yi-yi-yi," they responded in the dullest voices possible.

  He nodded with the confidence of a born tyrant. "Keep doing so! And remember to hop."

  "But, little master," his mother gasped, "it is very hard on my tiny feet." Indeed she clearly struggled, one hand on the wall as she descended the steps into the courtyard. She also glanced nervously at Charlotte and Ken Jin, but her words were for her son. "Let your mother—"

  "Am I not the master here?" he bellowed. "You will obey! Obey! Obey! Obey!"

  Charlotte drew back in surprise, especially as the child screwed up his face in preparation of a first-class tantrum. Obviously this was the number-one son—Ken Jin's son—but she'd never seen so ill-behaved a boy in all Shanghai. Certainly not one who disrespected his mother with such ferocity.

  To her shock, the mother and the maids prostrated themselves before the boy. "Little master, little master!" they cried. "Do not upset yourself. You will do yourself harm. Little master!"

  "That is enough!" Ken Jin snapped in a tone Charlotte had never heard him use before. She whipped her head around and nearly jumped when she saw the dark red flush to his features. "You will present yourself as an obedient young man!" His voice rang through the courtyard and cut off the child's tantrum midwail. All eyes flew to Ken Jin as he strode forward to glare down at the boy. His fists were planted firmly on his hips, and he stood as only a truly powerful man could.

  The boy's jaw went slack, and he clearly had no idea what to do. He looked to his mother and her maids, but they were of no help. As they were already on their knees, the women remained there in silence, waiting for the boy's cue—an odd state of affairs given that the child couldn't be more than five years old.

  In the end, Ken Jin took pity. "I am Wen Ken Jin, and I am your father's brother." His voice had softened for the introduction, and Charlotte saw that he had tender feelings for the child though they'd obviously never met.

  Charlotte watched understanding slide through the boy's frame. His gaze fell on her and he straightened; but not to bow. Instead, he screwed up his tin
y face and screeched, "Bastard Ken Jin and his white whore!" Then he spat—twice—once at each of their feet before dashing away, around the guest hall, presumably toward the children's chambers. With another quick flutter of skirts, the three women rushed after him.

  Ken Jin didn't move. He stood frozen to the spot, but not Charlotte. She was already rushing forward—right after the twittering maids—to stop the child. No one, not even a spoiled first son, should ever act so horrid to his own father, and certainly not in China where family was everything. But she was stopped by a booming laugh from the center doorway of the guest hall. It wasn't deep, simply loud in the silence left by the rude boy, and Charlotte turned to face her first eunuch-turned-mandarin.

  He was large, not in height but because of his voluminous clothing and fatty body. He had a round face, round hands, and a round body all draped in richly embroidered silks. He was laughing in cheerful good humor, though true joy never reached his deep-set black eyes. "Children play such funny tricks, and Hong Fa has such a quick mind. He has become quite sure of himself."

  "He is rude and must be whipped," Ken Jin replied. "How can you allow—"

  "I will see to the discipline of my son," the mandarin shot back. Anger quickly overwhelmed his false humor. "And no beggar will ever instruct me."

  Ken Jin didn't flinch; Charlotte was watching the two men closely, so she would have seen it. Then she saw her lover grow taller and colder—more authoritative—even as his voice grew softer. "My godson would never act so dishonorably to a guest."

  "You don't look like a guest, and he is only a boy."

  "Any man, woman, or child who enters this house peaceably—"

  "Pah!" The mandarin spat in the courtyard, a few inches away from Ken Jin's feet. "You even speak like a ghost devil. 'Man, woman, or child,'" he mocked. "Why are you here—and with that?"

  If he spat at Charlotte, she was ready to leap on his fat, girlish face and claw his piggy eyes out. But he didn't. Clearly she wasn't worth even that much disdain. He didn't even gesture at her.

  "I come seeking lodging for the night, brother," Ken Jin ground out. "Before tomorrow's dedication to the Emperor."

  The news had palpable impact. Even knowing it already, Charlotte couldn't stop herself from flinching. Gao Jin had a much greater response. His body jerked, and his eyes widened. His mouth even fell open in shock as he stared first at Ken Jin's crotch. Some moments later, the man's thoughts began to churn. Charlotte could see it in the slow shifting expression as his gaze roved over Ken Jin's tattered clothing, lean face, and dirty hands.

  "So, the foreign devils have brought you to this. How much money do you owe?" He glanced at the front gate. "Do we bar the door against your creditors?"

  "No one chases me, brother, and I have no need of money." Ken Jin's gaze was equally pointed as it wandered over the gold embroidery that adorned his brother's robe. "Indeed, you well know the money I have at my disposal."

  Charlotte straightened in surprise. She already knew Ken Jin supported his fiancée's family. Did he support his brother as well? Then she nearly hit herself for her stupidity. Of course Ken Jin supported his brother! Or, more accurately, Ken Jin supported his son, even if the child was a rude little brat.

  "We traveled in disguise," continued Ken Jin. "For safety." So forceful was his statement that Charlotte believed him, even knowing that it was a lie.

  "Foreign thinking," the brother spat. "Honest Chinese have no need to hide themselves—"

  "Are we to stand out here like strangers speaking politics? Or do you invite us in as family?"

  Again, Gao Jin pulled back. Apparently he wasn't used to being reprimanded. "Your associations do you no credit," he snarled. Then he frowned. "What is she? A gift to the Emperor? I can tell you that Heaven's son has no perversions such as yours. He will as likely have her killed as—"

  "She is no gift!" Finally Ken Jin's temper showed. He even advanced a furious step toward his brother, far enough that Charlotte put out a restraining hand. She had no wish for fisticuffs here.

  "Perhaps I should go," she began, though she had no idea where she could possibly go in Peking dressed like this and without money.

  "You will stay, Miss Charlotte," Ken Jin said firmly as he stared at his brother. "Stay and be treated as the honored guests we are." Then he let his gaze travel across the expensive carvings adorning the outer courtyard, the ornamental lanterns painted in red and gold, and the hanging tai shan plaque to repel bad fortune. All of it added up to money that no doubt had come from Ken Jin. She sincerely doubted a eunuch had managed to accumulate so much wealth. "Unless my godson wishes to end his relationship with me," Ken Jin drawled. "You have only to say the word—"

  "Nonsense! Nonsense!" returned Gao Jin. "Don't be so polite. My son adores you! He was only taken by surprise, is all. Understandable, given your appearance. He is but a child, of course. Come in, come in."

  Then he draped one fleshy arm across Ken Jin and steered him up the stairs to the guests' entrance hall. Charlotte had no choice but to trail behind. It felt a little like walking open-eyed into a den of thieves. She half expected some servant to leap out of the shadows and plunge a dagger into Ken Jin's heart—or her own, which was much more likely.

  But her only concern was to protect Ken Jin. It was a ridiculous thought. He was more than capable of handling a greedy sycophant. Wealthy First Boys often had to push away hangers-on, women after their money, or simple beggars looking for a handout. She'd seen him gently push aside a dozen or more on any given outing.

  Except, of course, Gao Jin was no simple leech. He was a brother. Worse, he was the brother tricked into becoming a eunuch. If Ken Jin had an Achilles' heel, it was right here in this fat, bigoted, pudding-faced devil of a brother. And so Charlotte had no intention of leaving Ken Jin's side, no matter how many social niceties she trampled.

  She trailed behind the two men as they crossed into the inner courtyard. She had a quick impression of a rather sad locus tree lost amid a dozen toys. Then Gao Jin snapped his fingers at a maid and spoke in rapid Mandarin, the words flowing much too fast for her to follow. Soon he was bellowing again to his wife and son, snapping his fingers while people scampered all around. Within moments, his son was bowing before Ken Jin, his mulish attitude cowed by his father's fist. The wife hung behind, anxiously fluttering about her child. And then Charlotte felt a nervous tug at her sleeve. She turned to see a frightened maid bowing before her.

  "Please come," the girl said in very slow Chinese.

  Charlotte smiled and shook her head, trying her best to refuse politely. She wasn't going anywhere without Ken Jin. The maid nodded and bowed more vigorously. Her smile widened with obvious urgency as she gestured to the side. "Please come."

  "No, I'm fine here," she said in Chinese.

  The woman's eyes widened in shock. Clearly she hadn't thought Charlotte spoke Mandarin, but Ken Jin had been teaching her the dialect along the road. Given her base in Shanghai dialect, Charlotte had become almost fluent.

  "I will stay here—" she began, but the maid cut her off.

  "Bath. Clothes. Come see." She spoke as if she were tempting a child with treats, but Charlotte just shook her head. As much as she wanted those things, she wasn't about to let them separate her from Ken Jin.

  "Yes, you come."

  "No, I stay."

  "Bath very good."

  "I will stay here—"

  Ken Jin's voice interrupted her. "Is there a problem, Miss Charlotte?"

  Charlotte started, instinctively feeling guilty for drawing attention to the little argument. She opened her mouth to respond, but Gao Jin answered for her.

  "She's just feeling anxious about a bath. You know how the ghosts fear water."

  "I am not afraid of water," Charlotte snapped, then immediately regretted her unruly tongue. Women did not speak in this culture. Certainly not with that tone, and not to the master of the household.

  Fortunately, Ken Jin smiled as if she had just discovere
d gold. "An excellent suggestion. It has been a long trip. Baths with oil, fresh clothing, and sweet melons while we wait." He grinned at his brother. "You are the most excellent of hosts."

  He extended his arm to her in the most courtly of manners. "Please allow me to escort you to our chambers, Miss Charlotte." He glanced at his brother. "You have a most efficient staff. I am sure we will be excellently pleased by our service."

  Gao Jin looked like he was not in the least bit pleased, but he forced a smile nonetheless. "You are too polite. Go rest. I will see to everything."

  So Ken Jin and Charlotte strolled off to the guest quarters, while behind them Gao Jin started bellowing orders to a frantic and obviously inefficient staff.

  Self-Care for Emotional Numbness: With your knees bent and your eyes closed, practice long, deep breathing as you very slowly roll up and down over tennis balls that press into B36, B37, and B38, three spots between the shoulder blades and spine. Meanwhile, press in slowly and hold CV12 (midway between your navel and the base of your rib cage).

  Acupressure for Emotional Healing

  Michael Gach, Ph. D., Beth Henning, Diplp, ABT

  Chapter 17

  "Well that was excruciating."

  Ken Jin heard Charlotte's muttered words even though her voice was low and muffled. Odd, that he could, especially since he stood in her bedroom doorway and she had dropped facedown onto her small bed. But then again, he now was so tuned to her that he heard everything about her.

  He'd heard her argue with the maid who wanted to take her off to the servants' quarters. He'd listened to the splash of her bathwater and her hiss of disgust at the cheap clothing his brother had given her to wear. And he'd noticed her every shift and stifled curse as she'd held her tongue all through dinner and evening chatter.

  In truth, he was quite proud of her restraint. He doubted his brother realized the depths of her hatred of him and his family. Gao Jin likely dismissed her as a ghost barbarian too stupid to understand the petty slights he had inflicted upon her all evening. But she had known. And she'd held her tongue, though it cost her three broken nails and his brother two pairs of chopsticks that she'd snapped in fury.