Tang Dynasty China, 759 A.D.

      Yao Ru Jiang, known as River, has woven many romantic dreams of honorable swordsman Wei Chen from her brother’s stories. Their meeting should have been a happy event; instead, Chen arrives to tell River he is duty bound to kill her brother for rebelling against the warlord they both serve.

      River would do anything to distract the handsome, conflicted warrior from his mission—even take him as a lover….

      Author Note

      The Lady’s Scandalous Night stemmed from all those late nights at my grandmother’s house, watching Hong Kong and Japanese melodramas on television with “the cousins”. My idealistic young mind was always tortured that these young, beautiful couples had to sacrifice themselves and their love for the sake of honor and duty.

      This story is linked to The Dragon and the Pearl and takes place alongside the larger story. The two tales can be read in any order and it’s my hope that reading one will enhance the other. I was fascinated by the idea of two sword brothers pitted against each other. These warriors swore an oath to serve their master, yet one of them has broken it. I was also inspired by the idea of arranged marriage. Though a prospective husband and wife often met for the first time on their wedding day, an arranged marriage was an agreement between two families, often with much history and context behind it.

      What if all these vows of honor came into conflict with one another all at once?

      A few historical notes: The late Tang Dynasty is known for the rise of the jiedushi, warlords who were often promoted from the field out of necessity. Governor Li Tao is protected by a fictional elite group of fighters known as a Rising Guard, which is an homage to the historical LongWu or Dragon Martial guard that formed within the imperial army.

      The Dragon and the Pearl is about the warlord Li Tao, whereas The Lady’s Scandalous Night is a story about the swordsmen who served him. As always, I hope you find this peek into the Tang Dynasty as intriguing as I have. The more I explore imperial China, the more I’m swept away.

      For more background information, you can find me online at http://www.jeannielin.com. I always love hearing from readers!

      Acknowledgements

      To the Tuesday critique group: Dawn Blankenship, Amanda Berry, Kristi Lea, and Shawntelle Madison. Thank you so much for the kibitzing, the prodding, the encouragement and the laughter. All the things big and small it takes to keep me going.

      Most importantly, a heartfelt thanks to my editor Anna Boatman for always respecting the story and helping me untangle the many threads of this tale to turn it into something beautiful.

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 1

      Tang Dynasty China, 759 A.D.

      The shop was exactly as Chen had imagined it. The cabinets were fashioned from dark, polished cherrywood. The counter kept meticulously clean. He stepped up to it and a shadow moved in the back room. A shape through the beaded curtain.

      The Yao family sold paper. They had a mill and purchased logs transported down the Great River from forests west of there. All these things Chen knew from so many stories, told over so many days. More details than he remembered of his very own family, which he’d left behind to serve in Governor Li’s army when he was little more than a boy. Chen was no longer a common soldier, of rank too insignificant to mention. He was a trained swordsman and a trusted bodyguard who would die to protect his master.

      As Yao Ru Shan had been. Once.

      The curtain at the back of the shop parted. A middle-aged man appeared and greeted Chen with proper deference, but it was the figure still beyond the curtain that held Chen’s attention. The young woman sat at her desk with a brush in hand. He only had one glance before the strands fell back in place. The wooden beads tapped together in muted harmony.

      He had already memorized the curve of her neck and the perfect angle of her wrist as she bent over her writing. From across the room, filtered through the beaded barrier, there was nothing more to see but form and shape. But the shape of her was enough to capture his thoughts.

      The clerk bowed behind the counter. “Honored sir, what can we do for you?”

      “I am looking for Master Yao Hui-Rong.”

      At that, the woman stood. Chen watched her shadow approach from the corner of his eye. Before the clerk could answer, the curtain parted once again.

      “Yao Hui-Rong is my father.”

      And now she became more than an elegant silhouette. More than a name he had repeated to himself in the dark.

      “Lady Yao.”

      Chen greeted her, palm to fist, head bowed. In the moment before he lowered his eyes, he’d already taken in more than was polite. She resembled her brother and she didn’t. Her features were strong, but tempered. Her hair was coiled tight and fixed with ebony pins. Her mouth was small and curved, the only part of her that could be considered soft. Ru Shan called her River.

      When Chen straightened, River wasn’t looking at him. Instead her gaze had fixed onto the sword at his side.

      “I apologize. My father is ill.” Her voice sounded strained. She must have noted it, because when she spoke again it was forcibly clearer. “If you have any news…”

      This was harder than he thought it would be. “It is of the utmost importance I speak to him directly.”

      She looked to the clerk and then back to him. Her robe was blue, nearly black, like the fading twilight. The collar of it closed high around her throat. It was unnecessarily austere, he found himself thinking.

      “Then I can take you to him. If you can watch the shop, Liao?” She turned uncertainly to the clerk, who nodded.

      River came around the counter to stand deliberately apart from him. “My manners are nowhere to be found. Your name?”

      “Wei Chen. I served with your brother in the military governor’s first battalion.”

      “I’m Yao Ru Jiang,” she murmured.

      Jiang. River. He’d always thought it sounded pretty. “An honor,” he replied.

      He waited for her to recognize his name, but she averted her eyes as she started past. Perhaps it was too much to hope. Too needful. The clerk Liao bowed once, as an afterthought, and then followed them with his eyes as Chen followed River out into the street.

      “Our house is outside of town,” she explained.

      He knew that as well. Ru Shan had told him of this town, the mill, and of his younger sister. Chen had devoured every word and used the images to fill in empty moments and empty spaces within. He’d never thought that he would have to use this knowledge to hunt down his comrade, the brother of his heart.

      “My horse is at the stable,” he offered.

      “Our home is not far.” Her eyes grew wide before she turned away, blushing. “I’d…I’d prefer to walk.”

      Was it the prospect of riding with him that made her so nervous? Etiquette demanded that he do something quickly to ease her mind and set their interaction back on steady ground. He wanted to do this properly, or as properly as could be expected.

      “The lady is