Czytaj książkę: «A Dance with Danger»
‘This isn’t what you wanted, is it?’ Jin-mei asked Yang beneath her breath.
‘There is no one else I would rather be wedded to,’ he replied without hesitation.
Jin-mei whipped around to face him, causing the pearls in her ears to swing dramatically. ‘You’re trying to be clever with your words. You could very well mean that you have no desire to be married at all—to anyone.’
It was hard not to smile. ‘I think you and I will suit each other quite well, Jin-mei.’
Jin-mei. The sound of her name slid smoothly over his tongue, as if he’d been calling her that for years. Such a pretty name … like the clear chime of bells.
‘It’s a compliment,’ he added, seeing her perplexed expression.
It was the best arrangement Yang had ever made. He had the magistrate’s protection, his silence, and his daughter … Surely it couldn’t be this easy?
AUTHOR NOTE
When I first imagined the world of The Sword Dancer I envisaged a wild land filled with heroes and bandits, with the lines between them completely blurred.
For those who have read The Sword Dancer, I hope you enjoy seeing what happens to Li Feng and Thief-catcher Han. As in all great romances, the rooftop marriage proposal was a beginning rather than an end, and their adventure continues here.
For history buffs: the places and people in this book are part real and part imagined. Fujian province was the seat of several rebellions. Rogue warlords were a plague upon imperial power in the late part of the dynasty. And when you read about the rebel figures that emerged throughout Chinese history many of them made their wealth through the salt trade.
The Linyin Stone Forest is an actual place. The pictures of it are dramatic and awe-inspiring. According to travel sites, it wasn’t explored until centuries later, during the Qing Dynasty, due to the dense growth that obscured it from view.
Perhaps I’ll be able to visit one day, and imagine the colourful bandits who made those hidden caverns their hideout.
Jeannie Lin can be found online via Twitter, Facebook or her website
To be notified when her next book comes out sign up at www.jeannielin.com
A Dance
with Danger
Jeannie Lin
USA TODAY bestselling author JEANNIE LIN started writing her first book while working as a high school science teacher in South Central Los Angeles. Her stories are inspired by a mix of historical research and wuxia adventure tales. Jeannie’s groundbreaking historical romances set in Tang Dynasty China have received multiple awards, including the Golden Heart for her debut novel Butterfly Swords.
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
Thank you to my husband, for putting up with the papers that litter our living room and the all-nighters I had to pull to finish this book.
I blame the twins for the mess, but hubby knows it’s all me.
Contents
Cover
Excerpt
AUTHOR NOTE
Title Page
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Extract
Copyright
Chapter One
Tang Dynasty China—AD 848
‘The mountains are high and the Emperor is far away.’
Bao Yang had always been fond of that particular proverb. It certainly held true in Fujian province where rugged mountains enclosed them to the north, west and south. To the east was the ocean fed by a lattice of streams and rivers. This was a land set apart from the heart of the empire, away from the eyes and ears of imperial authority. This was a land where a person with determination and a little cleverness could carve his own destiny, regardless of his birth.
Even a man with a price on his head.
Yang should have been afraid to return to the city where not long ago he’d tried to have a powerful warlord assassinated, but he had connections. He knew who would turn a blind eye and who could be bribed.
It wasn’t that there was no law in Fujian. Imperially appointed bureaucrats still oversaw the administration of the cities, but it was the merchants who dominated the rivers and ports. The surrounding mountains were inhabited by bandits and smugglers. Wealth and commerce were the forces that truly ruled this province.
He was approaching the city of Minzhou now by river, where there was very likely a warrant out for his arrest for attempted murder. Or at least for someone who looked like him. To his knowledge, his name was still unknown—for now, although he didn’t know for how much longer. His connections had bought him some valuable time.
The fisherman at the crossing was willing to take him down the river for a few copper coins. Yang hid beneath the wide brim of his hat as the tiny boat drifted into the city, joining the fleet of merchant vessels and ferries that fed the bustling markets.
As the fishing boat crossed beneath one of the main bridges, Yang kept his gaze directed forward. There was a guardsman in the lookout tower, but his bow remained slack in his hands as he scanned the water. The arrows rested soundly in their quiver.
‘The city guards have been wary of strangers lately,’ the fisherman said as he dragged a long pole along the river bottom, propelling them forward. ‘It’s best that you find your friend quickly and seek shelter before curfew so you aren’t hassled by the night watch.’
‘Is the city unsafe?’
‘There was some unrest a while back. Bandits, I hear.’
‘Thank you, Uncle.’
Three months had passed since he’d broken out of Minzhou’s prison house along with his co-conspirators. It was dangerous to return now, but not as much as one might think. Any thief-catchers searching for him would expect him to be in hiding. It was the regions to the north where there was price on his head. The regions that General Wang Shizhen had taken over with his army.
The fisherman steered clear of the busier docks to set Yang ashore at the edge of the market. From there, he moved quickly to a more secluded part of the city, slipping into a public park. A small stream ran through it, branching off from the main river. The walkways appeared empty and the broad canopy of the banyan trees provided cover.
Moving quickly, Yang set about tracking down his associate. He’d built up a wide network of associates over the years of which this particular official was the most powerful. If there was ever a time Yang needed to rely on calling in favours, it was now. He’d been working in the shadows before, seeding disruption and rebellion, but now this was war.
Yang needed the city magistrate’s allegiance which was going to require some craftiness on his part. Magistrate Tan was, after all, the same man who was responsible for throwing him into prison in the first place.
* * *
Jin-mei dabbed at her forehead with a handkerchief and adjusted the angle of her parasol to block the sun. As they neared the height of summer, there were fewer people enjoying the park in the midday heat, but her daily stroll along the river was one of the few opportunities she had to escape the house.
She had set out with her amah, but the old nursemaid only made it ten steps into the park before she sank down on to one of the benches in a viewing pavilion.
‘Don’t go too far!’ Amah warned, waving her on.
The woman had been considered elderly when Jin-mei was only a child. Now that Jin-mei was nineteen, Amah was ancient and could be forgiven for not wanting to exert herself. The dear old servant had also become less strict with age.
Jin-mei was wearing the lightest robe she owned, a finely woven silk in a peach-blossom pattern, but still the late summer heat was getting to her. She wiped at her face again, this time using the edge of her sleeve. When she lowered her arm, she could see a man crossing the bridge over to her side of the river. Given the man was a stranger and she was alone, Jin-mei slowed her step so they would have no reason to encounter one another.
Unfortunately, he’d seen her as well. He halted at the centre of the bridge before striding towards her with purpose. She should have ducked beneath the shadow of her parasol to avoid his gaze, but she found herself caught in it. Now that he was close enough, she understood why.
Her heart pounded. She knew him.
Most of her father’s visitors were grey-haired and uninteresting, but the young Bao Yang had seemed so dashing and full of mystery. He had a gleam in his eye and a half-smile that had always made her stomach flutter. That had been four years ago.
She’d only seen him from behind a screen while listening in on conversations she wasn’t supposed to be hearing. There was the one time when she’d attempted to stumble ‘accidentally’ into the hallway. She had fallen in hopes that Mister Bao might catch her and, well, become immediately smitten with her. Instead, her father had sternly told her to go to her room while the handsome young gentleman had watched her pick herself off the floor.
How odd to see him after all these years! She remembered that arch in the shape of his left eyebrow which gave him an inquisitive look. His nose was slightly off centre and she’d always wondered if it had been broken or was it naturally so. All of these little flaws, yet when put together, they created a face that was inexplicably intriguing. She had been convinced he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen.
Jin-mei wasn’t nearly as foolish now, but seeing Yang again brought back a little ache in her chest. That gleam in his eye was still there, even though they were supposed to be only strangers in passing.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked when they were finally close enough to engage in conversation.
He gave her a startled look at being addressed so directly. Only then did she realise how impetuous she had sounded. ‘I apologise. It’s just that I—’
Yang laughed and the easy sound of it banished her moment of discomfort. ‘It is I who should apologise. I must have startled you. I am here to seek the magistrate.’
He didn’t recognise her. Some demon inside of her awoke at the opportunity. Here was a chance for her to make an impression on him. A more favourable one than she had at fifteen, picking herself off the floor in a tangle of silk.
‘I know where the magistrate can be found,’ she said.
‘Then I am fortunate fate has brought us together.’
‘Are you flirting with me?’ she asked incredulously. She realised only after the words had left her mouth that such directness would be considered rude. ‘Sir,’ she added after a pause.
His smile didn’t waver. ‘Miss,’ he began, a counterpoint to her delayed honorific, ‘are you always so outspoken?’
‘It’s just that I know you. Well, I don’t know you,’ she amended, ‘but I feel as if I do.’
‘I feel as if I know you as well,’ he replied smoothly. He glanced at something over his shoulder, before returning his attention to her. ‘Will you accompany me?’
He flashed her a crooked smile and then they were walking side by side along the river, shielded by the shade of her parasol.
Bao Yang was flirting. No man had ever treated her with such charm. Her mother had been slender and tall and long-limbed, as graceful as a willow in the breeze. Unfortunately, Jin-mei took after her father’s side. Father was short with rounded features, moon-faced and on the plump side.
She was no great beauty to take hold of men’s hearts upon a glance. Jin-mei hadn’t expected any man to ever flirt with her. In her dreams, she had always impressed potential suitors with intelligent conversation and astute sensibilities.
‘What is a proper young miss doing walking alone in this park?’ he asked. ‘There might be questionable men about with evil intentions.’
‘What men are these? I see no one but yourself.’ She attempted a coy look, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. An uncomfortable silence descended as Bao Yang regarded her thoughtfully. She was no good at this at all. Her original plan would have to suffice. ‘Minzhou is probably the safest city in the province. There are guards on every street, patrolling day and night.’
‘Every street,’ he echoed contemplatively.
They had almost reached the final bridge that marked the boundary of the park. Once they crossed over it, they would be in the main market area. Jin-mei tried to think of some way to prolong their time together.
‘How was your journey?’ she asked. ‘You seem to have come from far away.’
‘Not far at all.’ Yang glanced once more behind him and then to other side of the river. ‘I live in a small village, only two days from here.’
‘Small village?’ she asked with a raised eyebrow.
He nodded. ‘Héjin Crossing, near the foothills.’
She absolutely knew that for a lie. Bao Yang lived far to the north-west in Taining County, the same place her family had lived before Father was transferred to Minzhou prefecture. She started to question him about it, but his step had quickened. He continued along the water towards the base of the bridge rather than over it.
‘How curious,’ he remarked under his breath. ‘Is that a dragon carved into the stone?’
‘Where?’ She drew closer, but saw nothing of the sort in the foundation.
He turned to her and took her wrist gently. The gesture sent her pulse racing.
‘Let us get out of the sun where we can speak more privately,’ he suggested, setting his hand lightly against the small of her back.
As courtship went, his ploy wasn’t particularly clever, but Bao Yang’s touch was subtly insistent without being demanding. There was a quiet urgency in his voice that both puzzled and intrigued her. In her confusion, they were already to the bridge before she found her voice.
‘I am not that sort of woman.’
‘I don’t think you’re that sort of woman.’ He was serious now, no longer flirting. Bao Yang removed his hold on her to step into the shadows. ‘But there are city guards nearby. If you cry out now, I’m dead. You hold my life in your hands.’
How had he compelled her down there? It was nothing more than a few looks, some polite conversation, a series of light and gentle touches that just breached the boundaries of etiquette, but went no further.
Yang was standing apart from her now, well out of arm’s length. She could flee and he wouldn’t be able to catch her. For a moment, she did consider fleeing. This man before her was someone who was hiding secrets. Someone very different from the gentleman she thought she’d known all those years ago.
Yet he met her eyes with a look that pierced her, pleading with her silently, as if she were the one with all the power. Jin-mei didn’t know why, but she found herself stepping after him beneath the bridge.
‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.
Once again, his hands barely closed around her shoulders. Her heart pounded, and she held her breath, waiting. It was as if she were moving of her own will and his touch no more than a suggestion.
Lowering her parasol, she looked up at him. ‘Why are you hiding?’
He lifted a hand to quiet her, head tilted to listen for sounds from above. She had never been so close to a man who wasn’t family. The front of his robe brushed against hers. Even with the dim light beneath the bridge, she could make out the hard line of his jaw. The air was cooler in the shade of the bridge and the two of them were closed off as if cocooned in their own private sanctuary.
‘I shouldn’t do this,’ he began, sending her pulse racing with just the mere suggestion of the forbidden, ‘but I must ask a favour of you.’
‘Yes.’
She’d spoken too quickly. Yang smiled at her, his eyebrow lifting in wonder. ‘You’re quite fearless, aren’t you?’
Jin-mei could hardly breathe with him so close, looking at her as though—looking at her in a way no one ever had.
‘I’m not.’ Not usually. There was something about his manner that made her reckless. She ran her tongue over her lips nervously. ‘I wasn’t entirely truthful before. I do know exactly who you are.’
His charming expression faltered. ‘I’d certainly remember if we’d met.’
‘It was years ago, Mister Bao.’
He appeared startled at her use of his name, but before he could reply a loud voice boomed in from the world outside.
‘What are you two doing?’
Jin-mei jumped, but Yang steadied her with his hands over her shoulders. Though she was breathing hard, he appeared speculative. He kept his gaze on her, meeting her eyes while he addressed the guardsman behind him. ‘My lady companion was feeling faint in the heat.’
‘Get out from there immediately.’
The silence was cut by the sound of a sword being drawn and then another and then another.
What was happening? She didn’t know when the trembling started, but now it wouldn’t stop. In a panic, she grabbed on to his arm. An unreadable look flickered across Yang’s face. Calmly, he let go of her and stepped out from beneath the bridge. She ducked out just behind him to see them surrounded by what looked like the entire city garrison. A familiar figure in a dark green robe stood among them, his jaw clenched in fury. Her stomach plummeted and her palms started to sweat.
‘Magistrate Tan,’ Yang greeted, surprisingly composed among so many armed men.
Jin-mei bowed her head, her cheeks burning. ‘Father.’
At that, Yang turned slowly around to look at her, a deep frown creasing his brow. Having men draw swords on him didn’t shake him, but apparently what she had said struck him speechless.
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.