Page 2 of A Lord in Want of a Wife (Daring Debutantes #2)

China—Three years ago

L u-Jing was sweeping up spilled rice in the temple storeroom when Nayao found her. They both slept in here, so she liked to keep the vermin at a minimum. That meant keeping the floor clean and the feral cats close.

At the sound of her sister’s footsteps, Lu-Jing felt her breath ease. She wasn’t abandoned…today. Every day Nayao went out searching for work as a navigator on a ship, and every night she came back defeated. No ship’s captain wanted a girl on board, even if she was an accomplished sailor.

Lu-Jing’s ugly secret was that she liked that Nayao couldn’t find work. That meant they both remained here, hidden away. The oldest two half children in the temple. Ah-Lan had been older, but he’d left a year ago in search of his fortune.

That was the way for orphans like them. As half Chinese, half foreign bastards, they were brought to the temple as infants.

They were raised until they could be apprenticed, only returning to the temple if they failed in their jobs.

Nayao returned when she was exposed as a woman and no captain would take her.

Lu-Jing returned bleeding and half-dead when she was discovered by the authorities in the Thirteen Factories district.

It was the only place in China where trade happened with foreigners, and no female was allowed there.

Nevertheless, Lu-Jing had made a name for herself there—as a boy.

She was an expert negotiator who was willing to take risks making illegal trades after dark.

But like Nayao, the moment her disguise was exposed, she’d had to run for her life.

She ran back to the temple. As had Nayao.

And now they lived the half life of a half person, doing work for the temple and rarely venturing outside.

Eventually, they would become nuns. There was no other safe possibility for them.

At least that’s what Lu-Jing believed, but Nayao wanted more.

She always wanted more. Lu-Jing didn’t even look up as footsteps entered the storeroom.

No one else came here at this time except Nayao.

‘I’ve saved an extra portion of rice for you,’ she said. When there was no answer, she looked at the door in confusion only to recoil in shock. There were two people entering the storeroom: Nayao and the head of the temple.

‘Abbott!’ she said, dropping her broom quickly in order to bow. ‘Are you hungry? I can find—’

‘Lu-Jing!’ the man snapped. He was a kind soul at heart, but he was very busy. And the orphans learned early not to bother him with anything. That made it triply shocking—and scary—that he had sought her out. ‘You are twenty years old now, Lu-Jing. Do you become a nun?’

‘What?’

He tsked as he looked down at her. ‘Do you stay for life? Or do you seek elsewhere?’

‘You are throwing me out?’ she whispered. ‘But I have served the temple well! I—’

‘You are not thrown out.’ He sneered the words. ‘But a woman of twenty must decide. Do you dedicate yourself to the path here?’

Life as a nun was an honourable path. One she had accepted as her future. And yet, she had not committed to it. In her secret heart, she still held out hope for a husband who loved her and children of her own.

It was a ridiculous dream. No one in China would marry a half child except—perhaps—another half child. But the only man who had interested her had left. Ah-Lan had gone north to find his fortune. Which left her here to become a nun.

‘Abbott,’ she began, her tone reverent as if she truly wanted to remain. ‘I wish to stay—’

Nayao interrupted her. ‘There is a man who wants us.’

‘What?’ Instinctively she shrank back. She knew what became of concubines married to old merchant men. They were used as prostitutes to the foreign captains. She would rather be a nun.

‘Not that!’ Nayao was quick to say. ‘A white man who looks for his daughter.’

‘One daughter,’ the Abbott said loudly. ‘Of your age,’ he said, looking at Nayao.

‘Our age,’ Nayao said as she took Lu-Jing’s hands. ‘He does not know which of us is her.’

‘But…’ She shook her head. ‘You believe this? That he searches for a daughter who is a woman now?’ She couldn’t keep the scorn from her voice. No man was that good.

Nayao sighed. ‘I have asked about him. I am told he is honest. And he has spent a great deal of money to find us.’

‘Not us ,’ the Abbott repeated. ‘One.’

Nayao lifted her chin. ‘He will take two or none.’

‘You’re going?’ Lu-Jing gasped. ‘You would leave me?’

‘No!’ Nayao tugged Lu-Jing forwards. ‘We go together. I had to leave you before when I was young. But now we go together.’

‘To a white devil?’ It was not the proper term for a Caucasian man, but it was the term everyone used.

‘You know as well as I that there are good men among the foreigners.’

‘And bad ones!’

She nodded. ‘I don’t speak English, but you do.’

‘Trade language!’ And she hadn’t used it for several years now. Not since her breasts had grown to their full size.

‘Meet him with me. Help me find out if it is safe.’ Nayao was pleading with her. Neither of them wanted to be separated again. It was too lonely as a half child. They only had each other.

‘Or,’ intoned the Abbott, ‘remain here and walk an honest path.’

As a nun.

Nayao’s eyes pleaded with her. She had faith that she could forge a future outside of China. Out there among the ships where there were people of every race. She had not been stabbed while taking risks with the white men.

‘What do you want?’ Nayao pressed. ‘What future do you long for?’

She didn’t need to ask the question. Nayao knew she wanted a family of her own. ‘B-but among the whites?’ she stammered.

‘Will you find a husband in China?’

No. Not since Ah-Lan had left. But the danger was overwhelming.

‘Do you hate it here so much,’ she asked Nayao, ‘that you will risk everything on a foreigner’s word?’

‘Do you love it here so much,’ her sister returned, ‘that you will give up everything you want to sweep floors in a storeroom? For the rest of your life?’

That wasn’t a fair question. Of all the possible futures, she had built a safe life here.

She had charge of the storeroom, a position no half child had ever had before.

Certainly not a woman. She managed the accounts for the monks, and that was no small task.

She had worked hard to gain such a position at the temple. And it was a good one.

Well, it was a safe one. But could she do this for the rest of her life? Stay in the temple, sweep floors and click-clack with her abacus as she maintained the accounts?

What an empty life that would be. Especially without her sister beside her.

‘Take the risk with me,’ Nayao pleaded. ‘At least meet the man. Tell me if you think he is honourable.’

Lu-Jing had no faith in her own judgement.

Not since she’d been exposed in the Thirteen Factories district because she’d trusted a liar.

But she also couldn’t let Nayao leave without fighting to stay together.

They had grown up here, each protecting the other.

Two half-Chinese girls surviving as best they could.

Most souls in Canton cursed the half children.

Some of the monks did, as well. But to be a girl half child was to be the most reviled of all.

Neither would have survived without the other.

‘There is no more time,’ the Abbott snapped. ‘Decide now.’

What else could she do? Though the thought of leaving the temple terrified her, being a nun here without Nayao frightened her more.

‘I will come with you,’ she said softly. ‘If only to tell you that generous white men do not exist.’

Except, apparently, they did exist. They met him in a dark corner of the Thirteen Factories district.

A place Lu-Jing knew well. Lord Wenshire was an older man with kind eyes and a cough that he tried to cover.

Through a translator, he told them a tale of a Chinese woman he’d loved and of their daughter together.

The woman was dead. He had verified that. But the child? He searched their faces, clearly hoping to see traces of the woman he’d loved.

Nayao looked to Lu-Jing, silently asking the question. Do we go with him? Do we trust him?

No and no! And yet, what other chance was there for them? Nayao would not become a nun. It had been foolish to pretend otherwise. She was too wild and free to be content inside the temple walls. So she would take the risk with this Lord Wenshire.

Did Lu-Jing?

‘We go two,’ she said in her rough English. ‘Or no go.’

The man smiled. ‘Together then. My daughters.’