“I don’t.”
“I think I can win the argument.”
Of who was stronger? Good grief, she noticed it now, the humor back in his eyes. He might as well be sitting there flexing his muscles!
“You know, brute force is for those lacking in wit,” she snapped.
He burst out laughing. “You will find it very difficult to get me displeased with you today, Alana mine. I did warn you, eh?”
“Oh, please,” she said in disgust. “Stop making sexual innuendos when they are quite out of place right now. Why did you tell me everything you just did?”
“I was curious to see your reaction to the Bruslans.”
“You think I’ve never heard the name before yesterday? My education was as well rounded as that of any young English lord. It included a brief history of all the royal houses in Europe, including this one. I even know what you forgot to mention, that my father is actually distantly related to them, but the two sides of that family became enemies long before he was born.”
His humor was gone. “Much more than I expected you to know, which prompts the question now, did the Bruslans steal the infant not to kill her, but to raise her as one of their own and foster in her a love for them? A plot that would give them back their power once they get rid of Frederick.”
She snorted. “You’re really grasping at straws on that one. I promise you, I wasn’t raised here, and certainly not by any Bruslan.”
“I agree you weren’t raised here. I don’t agree your Poppie isn’t—”
“Oh, good grief.” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “So now you think he’s a Bruslan, too? Who else are you going to accuse him of being?”
He made a tsking sound, but then he actually grinned. “Do you really expect me to tell you everything about an investigation that is still ongoing? One that you are now a part of?”
“Oh, yes, let’s not forget that,” she groused. “I think our truce just ended.”
She clamped her mouth shut so he wouldn’t doubt she meant it. He actually let go of her because of it, or so she thought. She leapt to her feet. He stood up just as fast, and before she could put more distance between them, his hands cupped her cheeks.
“We didn’t have a truce,” he told her gently. “What we have is a relationship, which you’ll find more pleasant than a truce. I won’t hurt the boy, I give you my word on that. But I will find your Poppie. I don’t have a choice in that. But if what I am beginning to suspect is true, he won’t be hurt either.”
She went still. What was he doing, lining up a trap for her now? Poppie had a price on his head in this country, and even if he didn’t, they weren’t going to thank him for stealing and keeping their king’s daughter. They were going to execute him. And she wasn’t going to help see that happen.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
THE CAPTAIN WAS MAKING her wait again. As tactics went, it was a good one. She’d no sooner asked him what he meant by that remarkable statement, that he wouldn’t hurt Poppie, than he shouted for Boris.
“Feed this woman,” he’d told the servant, “and guard her with your life. No one gets in or out.”
Boris had winced as he moved to lock the door behind his master. So much for making use of his guilt if she deemed it necessary. And too bad Christoph had realized she might try to. But where did he think she’d go if she got out of there? Home? She might as well. She was at her wit’s end. She’d told him everything she could, and he still thought her an imposter, so she wouldn’t be preventing any war.
The food had been waiting for her. It was brought to the table immediately, much more than she could eat. Did they expect Christoph to return to share it? She didn’t. She guessed he’d gone to interrogate the thief again, or to send more men to the city to spy on Henry. But before Henry had come to the orphanage, he’d grown up on the streets of London. He knew how to elude pursuers, thieves, and anyone who was too intently watching him. She hoped he was still adept at it because she didn’t really think Christoph would imprison Henry if he didn’t get the results he was after.
And then Christoph did return while she was still eating. She wondered about his disgruntled look as he sat down opposite her and began to fill a plate from the wide assortment of platters Boris had brought out.
“Did the thief talk?”
“His name is Rainier and, yes, he was much more informative this session, after bargaining for his life in exchange for names. He admitted a man named Aldo paid him to infiltrate my guard just so he could keep Aldo apprised of our movements and anything else that our enemies might find useful. He also gave up the name of the other traitor, who has conveniently already deserted.”
“Well, at least you got one name. So why do you look displeased?”
“Because Aldo was killed the other night, so, in fact, I still have nothing.”
“You’re rid of two traitors. That’s an improvement over the situation yesterday.”
“Yes, there is that.”
“If Rainier bargained for his life, did he also admit he tried to kill me?”
