Boris gave her an abject look, then abruptly dropped to one knee, incredibly, without spilling the soup. “I swear, lady, I was worried you wouldn’t be warm enough even with the heat I brought. That room is cold even in summer.”
“She doesn’t want to hear what an idiot you are,” Christoph snapped at the servant.
No, she didn’t, but the man’s guilt could be useful. “You can make amends by finding a laundress to clean my clothes,” she suggested.
“I will do so myself.”
“No, a woman—”
“It will be my honor!”
She gave up and just nodded stiffly. But as soon as he set the soup down and left, she said to the captain, “You didn’t have to hit him.”
“Yes, I did.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t put me in your prison. Try giving yourself a black eye!”
He raised a brow at her accusing tone. “Anything else you want to get off that pretty chest of yours before we eat?”
He made it sound as if she had no cause to be outraged. “Yes. I know who you are. You’re that uncouth lout from the mountain pass!”
“So? Why are you bristling over that? Ah, because you were the one I tapped on the arse, eh?” He started laughing. “The snow was so thick, I wasn’t sure.”
She blushed furiously, which made him laugh all the more. Had she thought he would apologize for his behavior that day? More fool her. He obviously had no shame whatsoever over such coarseness. But at least he didn’t have to waste time looking for the leader of those men when he was that leader, which meant he already knew who had stolen her jewelry.
“You were gone long enough to confront that thief who stole my bracelet. Did you?”
“He says you lie.”
“He’s lying!”
“That’s a stalemate—for the moment. But we stopped at his village on the way back to the city that day, so he could have stashed your baubles at his family’s cottage there. Men will be leaving in the morning to investigate.”
That was something at least. Actually, that was much more than she’d counted on, after his skeptical reaction to her accusation.
She was on the brink of thinking he could still be an ally when he added, “Anything else you want to get off that pretty chest? My clothes perhaps?”
Back came the blush. But the way he was watching her, she got the feeling he was testing her somehow. Was he deliberately trying to offend her? Was he trying to provoke her into saying something she shouldn’t? How naive she’d been to think she could maintain control over her emotions in a situation like this. But she could do better.
Her tone was only a little stiff when she said, “I would like to know why you have closed your mind to the fact that I’m Alana Stindal.”
“I haven’t formed an opinion yet.”
“Yes, you have. I’m going to be absolutely truthful with you. Give me the same courtesy. You would not have put me in a prison cell if you hadn’t dismissed my claim without reservation. Why? Just because others have come before me? Was one believed to be me? Is that who was buried here when I was seven?”
He ignored her questions and said, “Sit down, Alana. Eat your soup while it is still hot.”
“Good Lord, you sound like you’re talking to a child,” she said incredulously.
“How old are you?”
“You know very well I turned eighteen this year. I am old enough to marry, old enough to bear children, old enough to assume my rightful place—here.”
He smiled, reminding her, “I thought you said you didn’t want to stay here?”
Tired of his questions and his attempts to twist her words, she sighed and marched to the table and took the seat she preferred, the one opposite him. She reached across for the bowl that had been set at the place next to his and put it in front of herself.
“If I can manage to have a brief visit with my father, which is all I want, I will convince him this is not the life for me. Poppie thinks I must stay here. I don’t.”
