“Why doesn’t the king just close down the chalet if he doesn’t want to use it?”
“Because it’s still useful. Occasionally, he offers it to visiting diplomats. After a few days up here, they return to the capital more relaxed and they are easier to negotiate with.”
Alana laughed. “That’s quite a ploy.”
The sleigh stopped. Her humor departed as Christoph stepped down and reached for her so he could carry her inside, just as he’d done at his home. She was prepared to stop any kissing this time, but he didn’t try. He just set her down inside a large room that seemed too big to be a foyer or entry hall, yet it didn’t serve any other obvious purpose. A half dozen tall statues, male and female, Grecian in design, circled a mammoth fountain, which currently contained no water, in the center of the marble floor. Large, framed mirrors covered the walls, making the room look even bigger.
“Count Becker, it’s good to see you again. Would you like the same room?”
Alana hadn’t noticed the servant who approached them until he spoke. She gave Christoph a sharp look over that question. “You’ve been here before?”
He shrugged as he removed his coat and fur cap and handed them to the servant. The room wasn’t warm enough for her to do the same. She wondered if he’d admit that occasionally even he needed to spend some time alone, get away from a job that had become more dangerous than it should be.
Once the servant left to put away his coat, he said, “I’ve brought a few mistresses here.” Then, because of her expression: “What? Don’t look surprised. You were the virgin when we met, not I.”
She blushed immediately. “You’re not married. Why bring your women way up here—or were you married?”
He chuckled. “Listen to how indignant you sound, eh? Is that for yourself, or on general principle? Or are you jealous?”
“None of the above,” she snapped. “Forget I asked. What you do is your business.”
“You want to make it your business?”
“No!”
“You protest too much!” He laughed. “But I will answer your question. When a relationship begins to sour, a lot of arguments can ensue. That usually occurs when a mistress wants a more permanent arrangement, which was never part of the agreement. If I wasn’t quite done with her, I would bring her here. It’s probably the isolation, knowing they are stuck here with me until I’m ready to take them back to the city, that turns them amiable again. But it only delays the inevitable a little while, so I stopped making that effort.”
“If all your relationships end so unpleasantly, maybe you should try a real one instead.”
“You mean a wife?” He shook his head. “A wife would require a reasonable amount of my time, which I don’t have to give yet.” Then he grinned. “But I’ll make time for a new mistress—if it’s you.”
She wasn’t going to dignify that with an answer, but it did occur to her to ask suspiciously, “My mother is here, isn’t she?”
He laughed again. “You and I don’t argue, Alana mine. No, I didn’t bring you here to soften your edges. You huff and puff a lot, but I know how to make you purr instead.”
She gasped, her cheeks suddenly blazing. No matter how many times he’d said such outrageously inappropriate things to her, she couldn’t shrug them off. She knew she should be immune to them by now instead of mortified and angry.
“Good Lord, you make me wish I was your king’s daughter, just so I could have you clapped in irons. One month for every insult means you’ll spend years—”
“Don’t expect me to conceal my thoughts from you when I want you as much as I do. Would you rather I pretend you don’t affect me? Actually, I doubt I can.”
Christoph took her hand and led her out of the room, adding, “Let’s find your mother. Maybe she’ll be a witch and you’ll want my protection from her.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
He sighed. “I’m not.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
THE SERVANT WHO SHOWED them the way explained that Helga rarely left her suite of rooms. Alana could understand why because the richly appointed rooms encompassed an area larger than most homes. Helga looked right at home in them. She’d been having a late breakfast. Apparently, the maid who had brought the meal had stayed to talk with her. The two had still been laughing over something even as the maid opened the door for them.
Helga rose from her small dining table at the unexpected intrusion. She probably didn’t even think they were there to see her. The chalet was so big it would be easy to get lost in it.
A tender smile broke out on Alana’s face. This was her mother! Her real mother! Helga was wearing a simple green day dress. Alana noticed she wasn’t tall. She was even shorter than Alana by a few inches. No black hair, either. Helga’s was blond, her eyes dark brown. Her frame was sturdy, not thick, just big boned perhaps. Alana was small boned. Helga’s face had no wrinkles. She must have been a very young mother. She didn’t even look forty yet.
“Helga Engel?” Christoph began.
Eyeing them warily, Helga gave a hesitant nod. “You’re here to see me?”
