Page 16 of The Countess's Awakening (The Lovers’ Arch #3)

CHAPTER 16

T he SS China glided into New York Harbor eleven days after departing Liverpool. Esther sat by the rail, the salty wind tangling strands of her hair as she gazed upon the bustling waterfront. The city rose before her, a jagged silhouette of brick and stone against the sky, the masts of docked ships swaying like a forest of wooden spires.

The voyage had been an enchanted time, a perfect oasis of togetherness with Kai. She felt so much closer to him. In some ways, she wished she could extend the journey, but in other ways, the sight of land relieved her. They had made it. Tomorrow, she would continue her treatment. Soon, she might walk again.

Oh, she did not deceive herself that the path there would be easy or without challenges. It would take all the strength she had. But today marked a new beginning for her, and she would give it her all. For her daughter. For herself…and for Kai.

He stood beside her, his posture as composed as ever, though she caught the flicker of something in his expression—a quiet anticipation, perhaps. He had returned to a place that had once been his home, and though he had spoken little of it during their journey, she wondered how he felt stepping onto its shores again. Had he missed it? Was he glad to be back?

With a sudden pang, she realized this was still his home. Not England. He had accompanied his friend and had been staying with them for several months. A guest in their homes. But he never said he would stay in England. He had not set roots there. What if he intended to remain in New York? Surely, he wouldn’t, not after what they had shared…

But there had been no promises between them. He never spoke of the future, other than in terms of her rehabilitation. Maybe he didn’t see their relationship as something permanent. She had considered nothing at all. Stupid, really. For a lady of her years, to fall headfirst into an affair without considering the possibilities. But she had found so much happiness in his arms. Had felt so cherished and secure that nothing else had mattered at the moment. Perhaps that had been the biggest surprise of all. She was no nubile girl, no extraordinary beauty. She wasn’t even a woman in good health. Yet he, who knew her body’s limitations better than anyone, wanted her with intense vigor.

Their relationship had bloomed easily. Like a flower in spring. Unfurling its petals, reaching for the sun. She had enjoyed its beauty, reveled in the joy she had found. But flowers were notoriously ephemeral. They never lasted beyond one season. Was their season running its course as well?

Esther didn’t want to believe what they had was transient. It seemed so solid. So real. She reached out and slid her hand into his. Seeking his comfort and reassurance. His fingers closed around hers, and he looked down and offered a warm smile. It assuaged some of her fears. But couldn’t banish the cold tendrils of doubt that had sneaked through their summer. At some point, she would have to ask him what he intended.

And hope it was what her heart desired.

“Time to disembark,” Wang murmured, giving her hand a little squeeze. “Are you ready?”

“Certainly. I’ve been ready for a long time.”

The gangplank swayed under their weight as they descended, the crowd thick with men in work-worn coats, ladies lifting their skirts to avoid the grime of the docks, and porters shouting offers to carry luggage. Their trunks were swiftly loaded onto a hired carriage, and within minutes, they were jostling through the streets of New York.

Esther pressed her face to the carriage window as they rode. The city was alive in a way unlike London—louder, brasher, filled with a restless energy that thrummed through its very stones. They passed grand townhouses with wrought-iron balconies, rows of tidy brownstones, and storefronts with bold signs.

At last, they arrived on a quiet, tree-lined street. Wang informed her this neighborhood was called Kips Bay, and that it was home to professionals, doctors, and merchants. He had made his residence here because it was close to the hospital.

The coach stopped in front of a four-story brownstone, its red-brick facade softened by ivy creeping along the wrought-iron railings. The exterior was neat, the entrance framed by polished railings and a tidy stoop. As he had said, it wasn’t as grand as the townhouse where she lived in London, but then, that wasn’t her townhouse anymore. It belonged to Colin and Abigail now. She was the dowager countess, and when she returned, she should start looking for another residence for herself and her daughter.

Oh, she was sure Colin and Abigail would gladly allow her to live with them—they might even insist on it. But they were a young couple who needed to make their own home without having the dowager underfoot. When she began her search for her residence, something like this townhouse would be perfect.

As was his custom, Wang got off the coach first and arranged for her chair and all their luggage to be brought inside, then he came and picked her up, carrying her up the short flight of steps. He had carried her through countless doors by now, and yet, the gesture of bringing her through the threshold of his home felt poignant, significant. It was very reminiscent of what a groom did when he first brought his bride home.

Nonsense, of course. Her own maudlin thoughts were making her see things in a different light.

“Welcome home, my lady,” he said, depositing her with the utmost care on a comfortable chair.

She smiled, looking around. Inside, the home was spacious and neat—not ostentatious, but almost stark in its simplicity. And undeniably his. She could see it in the carefully chosen details—the jade figurine upon the mantel, the books lined in perfect order, the faint scent of tea that lingered in the air.

“It’s a lovely residence. How long have you lived here?”

“About five years now. I moved in after we opened the hospital, which is at the end of the street.”

“You have all this here.” She waved her hand to encompass the room. “And yet you left your home and your job at the hospital to accompany Colin across the ocean.”

Wang’s shoulders bobbed in a shrug. “Colin is my friend. When I agreed to teach him Kung Fu, I became his Shīfù. That’s a mentor of sorts. A responsibility not to be taken lightly. Despite him being estranged from his father, I know his death affected him. I watched him suffer when he lost his mother. Now he had lost his father, and his entire life was being upended. I…couldn’t leave him alone at that crucial time.”

“Colin is lucky to have a friend like you,” she said, moved by his loyalty.

“I owe much to him and his mother as well. They saved me in more ways than one.”

She tilted her head with curiosity. “How so?”

His gaze moved away, to stare into the empty hearth. She thought he would not answer, but he said. “It’s a long story, but I was on a path toward destruction. They helped me find my way.”

“What was Colin’s mother like?”

He smiled with fond reminiscence. “She was a force of nature. Smart, passionate, bold. Always managed her life as she saw fit and made her opinions known. She believed women deserved the same freedoms and opportunities as men and faced every challenge head-on. Fiercely devoted to her son. Sometimes impetuous, but always courageous and generous. A very fine lady.”

“You sound as if you were very fond of her.” A sliver of nonsensical jealousy must have shown in her voice, for he looked at her quizzically.

“I was not romantically involved with her, if that’s what you are thinking.”

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean… Even if you were, it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just… I’ve always been curious about her, but couldn’t ask anyone. My husband forbade everyone to speak about his previous wife. But I always thought he was still in love with her.”

Wang frowned, taking the seat in front of hers. “From what I know, their marriage ended rather badly. He divorced her, after all, which is almost unheard of. She never mentioned the Earl, but Colin always spoke of their parent’s marriage as…tempestuous.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was. My husband was very forceful as well, and proud. I can imagine how such personalities might clash. But I think, deep down, he admired her. And always loved her.”

“Why divorce her, then, and abandon his wife and child? Why marry you?”

She shrugged. Regretting having started this conversation. It was painful and useless, since both people in question were already dead.

“Like I said, he was a proud man. He wouldn’t apologize or compromise. I think he married me because he wanted someone meek and biddable. The opposite of his first wife. But then he found that my compliance bored him.”

He crouched in front of her, in a gesture she was beginning to recognize as something he did when he wanted to speak to her heart to heart.

“Then he was a fool. First for letting his first wife and child go, and then for not appreciating you. Esther, you mustn’t compare yourself to her. You two have very different temperaments, but you are every bit as courageous. You possess a quiet strength. A gentle spirit is no less valuable than a bold one.”

“But less exciting.”

He gave her a smile laden with promise and burning desire. “Oh, you are most definitely exciting. And passionate. A man would be so lucky to delight in you for a lifetime.”

Their gazes connected, and something arced between them. An acknowledgement of a feeling neither dared to mention.

He straightened up. “I could take you up to your room now if you wish. You should know that I have let the two upper floors, since I don’t need that much space, and it seems like a waste to have all those empty rooms. But I hope you find your accommodations appropriate.”

She recognized what he was doing, accepted his deflection. They had wandered into dangerous territory.

“What a practical concept,” she replied. “In that regard, you must consider the British aristocracy quite a wasteful lot. We have huge townhouses in London and even bigger estates in the country, where most of the rooms sit unused.”

He smiled faintly. “I’ve noticed. That’s why I thought to warn you. I hope you won’t mind. They won’t disturb you since the apartment has its own entrance. We still have three bedchambers in the main residence, so you won’t lack space.”

“I’m sure I’ll be perfectly comfortable. After all, I shared a tiny cabin with you for days and have never been happier in my life.”

He nodded, giving her one of those tender smiles. “At the moment, the house has no staff. I had a lady who came to cook and clean, but since I’ve been gone, she only comes once a week to dust the cobwebs. I shall send her notice that I’ve returned and also see about hiring more servants. How many servants do you require?”

Esther shook her head, her eyes widening with alarm at the thought of putting him through more expenses. “Oh, no. I don’t need any servants. With my maid to help me, and the woman who comes to clean and cook, we shall be fine.”

“You are accustomed to more servants. I don’t want you to go without.”

“I don’t need more servants. Truly, it’s an unnecessary expense.”

“You shouldn’t concern yourself about the expenses.”

She frowned, annoyed. “Wang, you keep saying that, but I know nothing about your finances. For all I know, you are overextending yourself, and I don’t want to be a burden. My late husband kept me in the dark about money as well. He paid for my expenses but never discussed finances with me. I supposed he considered me too delicate to understand money. When he died, I found out that the estate was not doing as well as it once was. He left me a pittance, and if it hadn’t been for Colin’s generosity, I would be living in genteel poverty, despite being a countess. So forgive me for worrying about money and expenses.”

He frowned. “You are right, of course. My apologies. It was not my intention to patronize you. As I told you before, I can well afford it. Though the means through which I obtained my fortune is not something I’m proud of, which is why I avoid discussing it. But you deserve to know.”

His eyes lowered as he stood and walked away, bracing his hand on the fireplace mantel. Esther braced herself for the revelation. What could possibly be so bad that would make him so uncomfortable?

“I used to be a prizefighter. A man who fights for money—that was the path of destruction I told you about. I spent years doing that. Traveling from city to city. When I became too notorious in one, I would move to the next. I made quite a tidy fortune by misusing my skills to beat men I had no quarrel with. I live simply, so the money is untouched.”

Ladies were not supposed to know about those fights, and the bets placed on their outcomes, but she knew. She had heard of boxers who had made their fortunes in the ring. Wherever gambling and vice were involved, there was money to be made. He would have been a formidable opponent. She had seen him fight off three attackers who were also skilled fighters. And although he wasn’t big or bulky, she knew firsthand the strength of the arms that had carried her so many times. The power and agility in his whipcord body. But it was difficult to reconcile the kind, courteous, and protective man in front of her who lived to heal people with the merciless fighter.

“Why did you do it?” she asked quietly. There was no censure in her tone, only curiosity.

“I told you about the circumstances under which I left China. When I arrived in this country, I was angry and quick to take offense for any real or perceived slight. I had trouble maintaining a job and brawled constantly. A prize promoter saw me and offered me money to fight. More money than I would have earned in a month of honest labor. With the promise of more if I won.” He shrugged. “Like the saying goes, one wrong step leads to every step being wrong. I’m not proud of how I made my money. I think that’s why I hesitate to use it. But I will gladly use it on you.”

“But you came out of it. You mustn’t be so hard on yourself. You were grieving and hurting. We all make mistakes when under the influence of such emotions. Most people don’t even recognize when they are in the wrong, much less try to make amends. But you turned around. Look at how many people you have helped since then. Including me. You’ve always had a core of honor and goodness, even during the darkest times. The way you came to Colin’s rescue when they were being attacked proves that.”

His lopsided smile conveyed his skepticism. “I still have much to atone for. But I didn’t tell you the story to gain your sympathy, but to convince you that you needn’t worry about money. But enough of that. Let’s get you settled in your room, and then I’m going to feed you.”

T he scent of garlic and ginger filled the small but well-appointed kitchen, mingling with the faint smokiness of sizzling oil. Esther sat by the worktable, arms loosely crossed, watching in awe as Wang moved about the space with effortless precision.

While she changed and rested in the comfortable room he had given her—which she suspected was his own room, since it carried the faint scent of him—he had gone to the market and was now preparing dinner.

She had never seen him cook before, but it suited him—this quiet certainty, the way his hands worked with practiced ease. He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing the strong, sure movements of his forearms as he deftly chopped a bundle of spring onions and set them aside. A pot of rice steamed on the stove, its fragrant warmth curling through the air.

She tilted her head. “You never mentioned you could cook.”

Wang glanced at her, the corner of his mouth quirking. “You never asked.”

“That smells divine,” she admitted.

“Simple food,” he replied, turning back to the stove.

“You are a man of many talents. Is there anything you can’t do?”

This time, he chuckled. “There are many things I can’t do. I can’t sing. I can’t play any instrument. I can’t dance. Just to name a few.”

He tossed in thinly sliced pork into a heated pan, the sharp sizzle filling the room as the meat browned, its edges crisping. A splash of rice wine sent up a fragrant puff of steam before he added a handful of mushrooms and varied vegetables she couldn’t identify.

Another pot sat beside it, where noodles boiled, their surface glistening. Wang plucked one up with his chopsticks, testing the texture before nodding in satisfaction. Within moments, he strained them, then tossed them in a dark sauce, finishing with a sprinkle of freshly chopped herbs.

Esther leaned forward, inhaling deeply to capture the smells, the warmth, the utter competence with which he moved.

“You look completely at home in the kitchen,” she mused.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “A hungry boy learns quickly.”

She was beginning to realize just how many skills he had that she had never thought to ask about. His life was so rich, his experiences so vast. She could spend a lifetime discovering every aspect of him and it still wouldn’t be enough. But she very much liked the idea of trying.

This quiet domesticity, in this lovely house. No multitudes of servants or any other people around. Just them. The thought filled her with joy and warmth. If it weren’t for Elizabeth, she wouldn’t mind staying here with him. Or recreating this life in London. If he wanted to, of course.

But there was no point in pondering what ifs. The reality was that she didn’t know if he wanted to live in England, and she could not stay. Her daughter came first. She was the reason Esther was working so hard to get better. And what would she do when Elizabeth married, as she would probably do in a year or two? Maybe then she could return to this cozy house. Or Wang would—

“It’s ready,” he announced, pushing a plate toward her.

With a smile, she surveyed all the dishes in front of her—a bowl of tomato and egg stir-fry, the pork and greens, and the noodles—everything looked and smelled delicious.

“This looks almost as good as you did while cooking it.”

His lips curled in quiet amusement, but she detected the hint of a blush. “Eat, before you decide you’d rather watch me cook all night.”

Esther lifted the chopsticks that she had finally mastered and took a bite. Chewy and savory noodles, laced with warmth from the scallions. Soft and velvety eggs. Flavorful pork, bursting with spices.

It was comforting in a way she hadn’t expected.

She swallowed, met his gaze, and smiled. “This is delicious.”

Wang picked up his own chopsticks and began to eat, his expression unreadable but just a little pleased. She realized he enjoyed doing things for her. Pampering her. And she wanted to do the same for him. Ease his burdens, make him happy. What a wonderful thing.