Her blush got brighter, yet she didn’t resist looking into his eyes just long enough to confuse him with what she was thinking. Until she laughed, then he was certain that she thought he was teasing, and she even teased back, “Perhaps we can switch places next time.”
She wasn’t serious—or was she? No, of course not, yet her grin was fascinating. This intriguing suggestion had probably been prompted by her wish to see him on his knees for his treatment of her. He reminded himself she was a princess, after all, and well aware of it now. And soon she would be pledged to another man, he thought in disgust.
This need to keep her at his side had nothing to do with his duty. The king had made it clear Christoph wasn’t to touch her again, and he wouldn’t have if she’d been pleased with the match being arranged for her. He’d actually thought she would be, as handsome and charming as Karsten was. But she wanted no part of that, and that quickly Christoph’s anger was gone.
Now that the danger had just fled down the mountainside, he gave in to his need to have her within his reach and granted her request to be present at the interrogation. If Nadia really was involved, then her father, Everard Braune, wouldn’t be there to interfere because Nadia would never have dared to have a lovers’ tryst in her bed at home if he was.
Chapter Fifty-One
A FORMALLY DRESSED SERVANT SHOWED Alana, Christoph, and Leonard to the parlor in the large Braune manor. Alana hadn’t yet had an opportunity to talk to Poppie out of Christoph’s hearing, but as they were being shown to the parlor, she had a moment to quickly whisper to Poppie, “You’ve revealed your face to him. Was that wise?”
“I have a good feeling about him,” Poppie said. “He won’t betray me.”
She’d never really thought Christoph would do that either. He was too straightforward, too blunt, too honest by far—unless it pertained to royal secrets, of course.
None of them sat while they waited for Nadia to join them. Alana kept herself out of the way because she was only there to observe. She shouldn’t even have asked to come. This was now royal business. Her brief moment of wanting to see Nadia get her comeuppance was gone. She realized now it had smacked of jealousy on her part. She hoped Christoph hadn’t noticed that.
His childhood friend arrived in a flourish. Nadia wore a delighted expression that abruptly turned to mere curiosity when she saw that Christoph hadn’t come alone. She was dressed in dark, bold colors, burgundy mixed with black and a deeper purple, matron colors as they would say in England, where only pastels were appropriate for a young, unmarried woman. But Lubinia didn’t follow those customs, Alana reminded herself. She still felt invisible in comparison in her gray coat. The feeling wouldn’t have changed if she’d removed it because her dress was pale blue, elegant, yet still nearly colorless.
“What brings you for this visit?” Nadia asked Christoph. “It’s been so long since you’ve stood in this house, I can’t even remember how many years it has been.”
Christoph had slowly moved toward her the moment Nadia entered the room. He didn’t stop until he was positioned halfway between the door and Nadia, so it wasn’t obvious that he was blocking her exit. This forced Nadia to turn her back on Poppie, who was on the other side of the room.
“We are going to discuss your recent activities and who you are associating with,” Christoph replied.
Nadia laughed. “No, we aren’t. That’s none of your business.”
“Actually it is, Nadia, when I have just found out that your lover murdered one of his cohorts. No loss, apparently, just another thug like he is. But I also know he works directly for the Bruslans.”
“He’s no rebel,” she quickly denied.
Christoph said pointedly, “I didn’t say he was, but that’s quite a revealing statement, that you should connect the rebels with the Bruslans. If I didn’t already know, then I have you to thank for confirming that connection.”
Nadia’s cheeks flushed with angry color. “I have nothing else to say to you!” she snapped, and marched toward the door.
She didn’t get more than two steps. Christoph’s hand locked on her arm. She started to actually scream for help, until he shook her hard.
“You might want to make this easy on yourself, Nadia, and cooperate. If I have to take you to the palace, you—”
“Get your hands off my daughter!”
Everard Braune stood in the doorway. Blond hair turning gray, well dressed, still wearing the cloak he had just come indoors with. And a pistol in his hand pointed directly at Christoph.
But Christoph wasn’t inclined to obey the angry demand. He turned, placing Nadia between himself and her father, making her a shield. It didn’t defuse the danger because Everard just pointed the pistol at Alana instead.
Alana gasped and dropped down behind the sofa, crawling her way to the side of it where she could peek out and see where Christoph was standing, and Poppie beyond him. She couldn’t see the door and Nadia’s father from that position, so she didn’t know that Nadia had run to Everard and he’d pushed her out of the room to safety. But it was a good guess that the pistol was back on Christoph, with him just standing there empty-handed now.
She should have demanded her own weapons back as soon as she was moved into the palace, but she hadn’t even thought of them since her father’s men protected her now. She could have disarmed Braune with a well-placed bullet while Christoph distracted him. Poppie was probably waiting for her to do just that. But all she had was his long-bladed dagger from the sleigh, and unlike him, she was only mediocre at throwing daggers. She’d been taught to use them for defense, but not against a pistol!
She took the long blade out of her boot and showed Poppie that was all she had to work with, then moved to the other end of the sofa where she could peek around at Braune. She might still be able to distract him, long enough for Christoph to take him down. At the very least, she could try to knock the pistol out of his hand.
“Do you even know what your daughter does here while you’re away?” Poppie asked the man to draw his attention away from Christoph.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Do you, Everard?” Christoph pulled the man’s eyes back to him.
“Yes, I know what she does. She does what I tell her to do. She’s an obedient daughter.”
