“Yes, and I’m not going back to the palace. He’ll give up my name if he hasn’t already. But whether they brand me a deserter or a spy, they’ll be looking for me, so I’m leaving the country.”
Leonard was furious. They’d tried to kill Alana again, but now had other plans for her? This had to end and soon, so it was time for him to take a more direct approach.
He left the shop silently and retrieved his horse, readying himself to follow his target without losing him this time. If he didn’t get a name today . . .
He got a good look at his target when he exited the shop and mounted his horse. The man wasn’t wearing a hood today, so Leonard could see he was in his mid-twenties and handsome with black hair and a strapping body.
The target rode south out of the city on one of the more traveled roads. In that direction lay a large Bruslan estate, commonly referred to as the Stronghold because it resembled a small city with many fine homes within the low rock walls that surrounded it. The Stronghold had no gate, and with so much activity in the area, no one asked Leonard what business he had there.
His target disappeared inside the main residence, but so many regal-looking men and women entered and exited the building that Leonard couldn’t determine whom the man was reporting to. He wasn’t in there that long, though. When he walked out of the building, he was alongside Karsten Bruslan, but the two men went separate ways without a word, Karsten into a fancy coach, the target back on his horse and riding off at a fast clip back to the city.
Leonard wouldn’t have known the other man was Karsten, old King Ernest’s heir, if he hadn’t heard his name mentioned yesterday at the festival and got a good look at him then. Was it a coincidence the two had departed at the same time? He decided to follow Karsten. Actually, the Bruslans’ favored heir might have the answers he wanted, but even if he didn’t, it was time to stir the pot a little to see what came out.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
THEY HAD BEEN OUTSIDE long enough for the Beckers’ annoying neighbor to be gone from the house when they returned to it. In the parlor again, Alana was warming herself at the fireplace and didn’t see Christoph’s father enter the room.
“Kosha seems upset. Did a wild animal get too close to the pack?”
Christoph laughed and nodded toward Alana. “If you want to call her a wild animal.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Alana said drily.
Christoph introduced them, though it wasn’t necessary. The resemblance between father and son was remarkable. The rest of the day continued to be enjoyable. Unlike Christoph, his family was nice and made her feel quite at home.
Ella wanted to know all about the latest English fashions, which brought a few groans from the men. She merely laughed and invited Alana to come with her to the kitchen so they could continue the discussion without boring the men.
But what she really wanted to know was “You like my Christo?”
Alana didn’t blush and managed an evasive reply. “He—takes getting used to.”
That made Ella laugh. “I know he’s different from the English gentlemen you are accustomed to. Lubinian men, they don’t mince words, they get right to the point. But he’s a good boy.”
Alana chuckled. Only a mother would call a man Christoph’s size a boy. She liked Ella a lot. Spending time with her, she couldn’t help wondering what her own mother was going to be like. She hoped Helga would be as easy to talk to as Ella was.
She even got to meet Christoph’s baby brother—from a distance, when a servant brought him into the parlor. Christoph grabbed him from the woman, tossed him up in the air until the child was giggling in delight, then carried him over to Alana. But the child was too shy around strangers to let her get close, beginning to cry each time she held out her arms to him.
Wesley joined them for dinner. Sitting between his parents at the table, they both fed him tiny bites of the meal. Christoph, smiling at the boy, leaned over to tease Alana. “He doesn’t realize what he’s missing, to be held in your arms.”
At least he had whispered that, sitting next to her, and no one noticed her blush but him. But a distinctly uncomfortable moment came when the hour grew late and Ella said to Alana, “Come, I will show you to a room.”
Christoph stopped them and with nothing teasing in his tone said, “No, she will have to sleep in mine. She’s in danger. The people who want to kill her are earnest enough to break into a home to get at her.”
“We’re not going to be sharing a bed, Lady Becker,” Alana assured his mother.
“No, you certainly will not be,” Ella agreed. “She can sleep with me, Christo.”
“And where will I sleep?” Geoffrey wanted to know.
Alana thought it was settled until Christoph said, “I’m afraid I must insist, Mother. I’m not going to wake up in the morning to find you both with slit throats. It is my job to protect her, and I’m not going to sit outside your door or mine all night to do it. Propriety is meaningless when a life is at stake.”
“You actually think they would break into this house?” Ella asked.
“They broke into my quarters to get to her.”
A rather mild version, Alana thought, since she’d been in his prison, which was only connected to his quarters. But he obviously didn’t want to clarify that to his family.
Ella finally nodded, but said, “I will have a cot delivered to your room. You will use it.”
