“Don’t look so sad,” Christoph said. “I have good news for you.”
“Let someone else tell me. I don’t like the way you deliver information,” she grumbled, but her curiosity got in the way. “What news?”
“Hair first.”
“You see!?” she hissed. “You are beyond exasperating. Why do I even talk to you?” She marched to the chair and sat down, but leaned away from him. “And don’t you dare touch my hair! I’ll dry it.”
She reached for the towel on her head, but he whisked it out from under her hand. “I have the comb—and the towel.”
“I have the heat and my fingers will serve as a comb.”
“You won’t win this argument.”
He didn’t sound triumphant, just matter-of-fact, yet it still made her want to scream. He already had a fistful of her hair and was pressing the towel to it with his other hand, so she couldn’t even get up without his yanking her back down with her own hair.
“I hate you,” she said impotently.
“No, you don’t, you like me.”
“I don’t! You have no clue how to treat a lady. And even if you did, an insensitive brute like you wouldn’t know when you ought to.”
He tsked. “You sound like a brat. I think your Poppie must have spoiled you.”
She clamped her mouth shut. Trying to get through to him was a lesson in pointlessness. But he didn’t try to provoke her any further. He didn’t give her back her hair, though, and the gentle way he was handling it slowly began to relax her.
Quite sometime later, he dropped her hair over each shoulder so she could feel how warm and dry it was. He’d almost put her to sleep, his hair drying had turned out to be so sensually soothing. She couldn’t even garner any energy to object when he tilted her head back so he could lean forward and kiss her brow.
But then he straightened and said behind her, “I have the king’s permission to tell you the truth and to take you to meet your mother. Dress warmly, Alana mine. She lives high in the mountains.”
Chapter Thirty-One
MY MOTHER?”
That was all Alana could get out and it felt odd even saying it. Wide-eyed, she tried to comprehend, but couldn’t. And Christoph didn’t say another word. She swung about to face him, only to have to turn full circle because he was walking out of the room!
“Don’t you dare!” she yelled at his back.
He didn’t stop. “Your wet hair was an unexpected delay. We need to hurry now or it will be dark before we arrive. You’ll find a satchel at the bottom of my wardrobe. Pack us each a change of clothes. I’ll be back in a few minutes with my horse. Be ready.”
She would have told him to pack his own clothes, but she barely even heard the last of what he said as he was closing the door behind him! She bolted to the bedroom and quickly dug out the thick woolen dress she’d worn for most of the trip across the Continent, gloves, several extra petticoats, some warmer stockings, and her traveling boots. Dressed, she filled the valise he’d mentioned, and not taking the time to put up her hair, she just tied it back and donned her fur cap.
She went back into the parlor with her heaviest coat over her arm, and Christoph’s as well since he’d only been wearing his uniform when he left. She could see out the windows on the side of the room that it wasn’t snowing. The sun was even out, but she’d felt that icy draft and didn’t doubt the coats would be needed.
Alana didn’t know what to think because what Christoph had said made no sense at all. Even now, when she had a few minutes to spare before he returned, she merely dropped the valise on the floor by her feet and stood in the middle of the room staring blankly at nothing in particular.
But she snapped to attention the moment the door opened. Christoph didn’t close it. She could see the horse standing just outside. The air was icy. She held out his coat to him so she could slip hers on.
He raised a brow at her as he donned his. “Seeing to my comfort? Are you beginning to feel like my woman?”
She snorted. “I was just saving time since you stressed we must hurry.”
He grinned, picked up the bag, and took her arm. “I like my thought better. But come.”
He’d only brought one horse. After he’d mounted it, he lifted her up to sit precariously across his lap sideways, prompting her to complain, “You can’t really be taking me into the mountains like this. The roads will be covered with snow up there, won’t they? Not like that road to the festival.”
“Which is why I’ve already arranged for a sleigh. It’s a short ride to where they are kept outside the city.”
“A sleigh? Is it enclosed?”
