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  “So just servants, eh? Even the children?” the leader added in disgust. Yet he immediately barked a command, “Search the baggage for weapons.”

  Did that mean he still thought Poppie was lying? Or was the man just being thorough? The soldiers remained tense and didn’t lower their rifles.

  Alana would have kept a close eye on the soldier who climbed on top of the coach and opened her trunks and was rifling through them, but Poppie drew her attention again when he said, “My lady doesn’t employ my nephews, but she generously allows them to live with me in her household.”

  The leader of these soldiers, whom Henry had been watching in fascination, was close enough to him to chuck the boy’s chin and remark, “You don’t look like your uncle.”

  She didn’t think Henry had progressed far enough in his lessons to understand all of that phrase, yet he still mumbled, “Do, too.”

  Standing next to Henry, Alana heard him clearly. He’d spoken in English! But, apparently, the leader hadn’t heard him due to the wind because he pushed Henry out of his way and was now standing in front of her.

  As he reached for her, she stiffened and raised her chin defiantly so he wouldn’t have to touch her the way he’d touched Henry. She could see more of his face now. He had dazzling blue eyes and his hard mouth actually turned up at a corner in a half grin.

  He glanced back at Poppie. “This one should be wearing skirts, no? Too pretty to be a boy.” Guffaws erupted from the soldiers behind him, but he wasn’t done yet. He turned her, and before she realized why, he brought his hand down hard on her arse. She was so shocked, she barely felt him squeeze one cheek. “So small, or shriveled from the cold?”

  Poppie yanked her away from him before she reacted instinctively and slapped the man. She had no idea what he’d just insinuated, but he and his men were laughing uproariously about it.

  “What the deuce did that lout mean about me being shriveled?” she hissed back at Poppie as he pushed her farther away toward the rocks.

  “It was nothing, just a way to put his men at ease.”

  That had certainly worked, they were all so bloody amused, while she was outraged. He’d smacked her! She couldn’t believe it!

  “Stay away from him,” Poppie warned before he turned back to the leader.

  He even grinned to go along with the humor that Alana was bristling over. “The boy knows and eagerly awaits hair to grow on his face.”

  “Does he?” the commander said, but he’d already lost interest.

  The soldier he’d sent to search her baggage jumped down from the coach and reported, “Mostly fancy women’s clothes, sir. No weapons.”

  Of course there were no weapons. Poppie carried his weapons on his person just as she did, and she’d never felt more like using one than she did right then. But the soldiers were obviously only looking for rifles, or they might have searched them, too, for smaller weapons.

  She turned away before the brute caught her burning a hole through him with her eyes, but she heard him bark another order. “You. Move that coach out of the way to that wider ledge we just passed, and carefully. Push anyone over the cliff and you’ll go with them.” Then he addressed Poppie again. “Did you see the rebel camp on your way up here?”

  “I saw no one anywhere near the pass, and it wasn’t snowing when we started our climb. If there is a camp nearby, it can’t be seen from the trail.”

  “We still have to prove or dispute the rumor. Go about your journey. You’ll be out of the snow soon.”

  That quickly they were dismissed, and they all got behind the coach to follow it down the mountain. Relief should have calmed Alana, but she was still highly indignant over being the brunt of some rude man’s joke she didn’t even understand. The long line of soldiers passed in single file now as they continued on their way. She couldn’t help noting that they were all tall, making her wonder if height was a requirement for the Lubinian army, or worse—if her homeland was populated by giants!

  Chapter Eight

  THEIR BRUSH WITH THE military was over, but the snow continued to fall. As soon as the last soldier disappeared in that white, swirling veil, Alana pulled Poppie aside and asked him, “Why did you address that lout as ‘my lord’?”

  “For no reason other than flavor to support the role I was playing of a menial servant.”

  “Was he bluffing, or are the Naumanns actually real people that he might know of?”

  “They’re landowners,” Poppie replied. “The same wealthy family mine used to rent from, and the first noble name I could think of to use.”

  “Ah,” she said, but what she really wanted to know was “Is the army here really that coarse and brutish?”

  “Lubinia is too small to support a professional army, but the palace guard is extensive, and I don’t doubt there has been additional recruitment to deal with the rebels.”

  “Those were palace guards!” she gasped. “Even worse! It’s like they’re from the last century, or even before that. Just how backward is our country?”

  “There was no newspaper in the capital city when I left,” he admitted.

  That said a lot. Too much. Was her father going to be a brute, too?

  But Poppie added, “You can find coarseness in any military unit, Alana, anywhere. But most of those guards are probably recruited directly from the commoners. They are men of the earth, men who don’t easily accept change. Most of the people here treat education as a waste of precious time, but think about it. Even in England education isn’t compulsory, and the poor there view education the same way. But there is refinement in some of the noble houses here.”

  “But not all?”

  His answer was a brief shake of his head. But he’d given her something to think about. She’d been comparing those soldiers to Englishmen who had been raised as she’d been raised, in the privileged world of upper-crust London, where refinement and good manners abounded. She had to stop holding to that old disdain of her homeland that Poppie had fostered in her. He’d admitted he’d done it deliberately just so she wouldn’t tell anyone where they’d come from.

  When the snow stopped as suddenly as it had arrived, a beautiful view was revealed. Green valleys, untouched by the mountain snow, were dotted with farms and villages. And in the distance Alana caught her first sight of the capital city, which shared the same name as this tiny mountain kingdom.

  Poppie confirmed that when he put an arm around her shoulders and said with a pleased smile, “There’s the capital of your realm, Princess. We’re home.”

  His home, Alana thought. It didn’t feel like hers and she was sure it never would.

  They arrived in the city just before evening, too late in the day to go directly to the palace. Alana was relieved, even if it was only a brief delay. Now that meeting her father was nigh imminent, her apprehension was back in spades.

  They got rooms at an inn on the edge of the city. Without telling him everything, Poppie explained to Henry that he would have to disassociate himself from Poppie when they went into the city. Henry seemed to understand the need for secrecy now, and that he might be followed when he delivered messages to Alana once she moved into the palace. Poppie even took him into the city to find a crowded place where they could meet clandestinely, without appearing to know each other. Henry was thrilled by the intrigue.

  All of Alana’s trunks were brought inside the inn and would remain there until she had rooms in the palace. Because Poppie wanted her to be at her best in the morning, he made her go to bed early. Sleep? In her current agitation? Somehow she did.

  But morning came too soon. Her hands were almost trembling as she dressed in a warm powder-blue velvet gown. Instead of a heavy coat, she picked a dark blue cloak lined with soft white fur and a matching cap. At least she could push the cloak back off her shoulders if she got too warm once she was in the palace. She even managed to pin her long black hair up into a semblance of a coiffure. It was nowhere as neat as Mary’s handiwork, but at least the cap made tha
t less obvious.

  “Alana?”

  When she opened her door for Poppie, he said, “Don’t forget the bracelet.” He paused as he looked her over. “So beautiful—as always. Your father is going to be so proud today, to claim you as his own.”

  “I wish I were your daughter instead.”

  He hugged her so tightly she worried he might think it would be the last time he ever could. “No more than I, princess, but never doubt that you’ll always be the daughter of my heart. Now come.” He set her back from him. “Fetch the bracelet. You can keep it in your purse for now. And perhaps you should wear that pearl brooch I gave you last year, to complement your dress.”

  She nodded and moved to her trunks. Her purse was already heavy with the money Poppie had given her and her smallest pistol, but the bracelet was nearly weightless, it was so tiny. She took out the small jewelry box, but then she gasped, noticing immediately that the latch was bent, completely pried away from the wood.

  She swung around. “I—I think I’ve been robbed.”

  Poppie came to her side. “Robbed? When?”

  “It had to be yesterday. I’ve been checking my jewelry box every morning before my trunks are loaded onto the coach. The contents are too valuable not to. You look,” she said with dread, unwilling to open the box herself.

  He did. When she saw his frown, she grabbed the box back from him. It was empty except for Henry’s two small carvings. That soldier who’d searched her trunks yesterday! He’d stolen all her jewelry. At least he’d been too stupid to see any value in the carvings, so he hadn’t taken them, too.

  Poppie was having the same thought. “That man was on top of the coach too long. I should have guessed, should have had you check your belongings before the soldiers got too far away. That commander seemed competent enough in handling his men, if easily fooled. He would have made fast work of getting your jewelry back.”

  “Unless we were the ones fooled and they were all thieves.”

  He chuckled. “All angles? Excellent, Alana. That didn’t occur to me. Doubtful, but indeed possible. But let’s hope not, because your father can easily find out which of his men were sent to that pass chasing rumors and can get your jewelry back. A band of thieves, however, won’t be as easily found. And come to think of it, we’d probably be dead now if they had been thieves. It would be all too easy to hide a crime in that pass, with such a deadly drop over the cliffside. But in either case, no one will know what they have in that bracelet.”

  She was beginning to feel angry over the loss of not just the bracelet, but every piece of jewelry Poppie had given her over the years. “Simple stupidity?”

  “No, a man can be brilliant, but that doesn’t help if, like most Lubinians, he can’t read, so the inscription will mean nothing to him, even if he noticed it. And he isn’t likely to sell the jewelry immediately. He’ll want to make sure no fingers are pointed his way when our ‘lady’ discovers the theft.”

  “Of course fingers will be pointed. We know exactly who the culprit is.”

  “Yes,” Poppie agreed. “But he’ll be confident that his word will outweigh ours because we portrayed ourselves as servants, and servants separated from their mistress are sometimes tempted—you get the idea.”

  She huffed and put the nearly empty box back in her trunk and slammed the lid down. “That was my proof of my true identity.”

  “Princess, you are the proof. You have the facts and you can still describe the bracelet in detail. Such an expensive trinket was probably given to you by your father before he retreated to mourn your mother’s death, so he will remember it. You may also look like your mother. Remember, try to avoid mentioning my real name, but do tell them that Rastibon abducted you as they will be familiar with that name and it will lend authenticity to your account. And keep in mind, the king and his advisers will want to believe you because you will put an end to these rebel agitators, when they’ve obviously been unsuccessful tracking them all down.”

  Chapter Nine

  AS THEY RODE TO the palace, they traversed the main avenue, which was much wider than all the side streets and lined on both sides by shops and one- and two-story homes, no two alike. The shops didn’t appear to be as prosperous or as sophisticated as those in many of the other cities they’d passed through, and the homes were by no means as grand. But at least the capital wasn’t as primitive as Alana had been expecting.

  When she noticed one of the fires burning at the side of the road, flickering from a stone pit, covered by a metal grate, she thought of Poppie’s tragic tale. She could almost see it happening, that accident that had changed his life so drastically and had ultimately affected her own.

  “Better contained now and not so close to the road,” she heard Poppie say tonelessly, having noticed what she was staring at. “There were no metal grates before.”

  She cried for the pain he had suffered back then, though she kept her face averted until her eyes dried. It released a little of her tension—until the coach stopped. But then Poppie eased it a little more by letting her see some of his own nervousness.

  “Do I appear—normal?” he asked her.

  Not like an assassin? was his real question, she realized. “Very dapper,” she assured him with a smile. “Like an English nobleman.”

  “Then I do stand out?”

  “No, not at all. Haven’t you noticed in our travels that the fashions throughout Europe are very similar to what we’re accustomed to?”

  Alana wasn’t helping him relax, but she didn’t think anything would. Her tension didn’t stem from anything life-threatening. His did. He was taking a big risk escorting her into the palace, and she hadn’t been able to talk him out of it. But any man with her was going to be apprehended immediately as her abductor, once it was known who she was. While he did plan to slip away just prior to her audience with her father, something could easily go wrong. She knew it. He knew it. She wished she had been able to make him see reason, but he refused to leave her on her own until he absolutely had to.

  A long line of people and vehicles was before the gates. It was soon apparent the line wasn’t moving into the palace yet. Some of the crowd began to disperse as a guard made his way down the line.

  When he reached their coach, he brusquely stated, “Only town officials today.”

  “And if our business isn’t with the king?”

  “Come back next week. Everyone of any import is involved in entertaining the foreign diplomats this week.”

  He didn’t stay to answer any more questions. Alana wondered aloud, “Should we take a town official into our confidence, if they are the only ones who can get in right now?”

  “No, only a palace official, and only if you must, as we discussed,” Poppie said. “No one is to know who you are until you are safely inside those gates.”

  This delay had a calming effect on Alana, but just the opposite effect on Poppie. On the way back to the inn he explained the risks of remaining in the city for longer than they’d intended. Old neighbors might recognize him and recall that he’d disappeared the same night the princess did. She might be recognized if she resembled her mother. It would be a good thing if she did, but not before she was secure inside the palace walls.

  “You intend to remain in the city afterwards,” she reminded him.

  “Yes, but I can’t assume my old habits of keeping to the shadows and wearing clothes designed to conceal me when there’s a beautiful young woman beside me. I will be fine once you are safe with your father. Until then, neither of us is safe.”

  Which meant she wouldn’t be leaving the inn. But Poppie made several forays into the city at night, only telling her about them after he returned, so she wouldn’t worry.

  On one of them, he checked the defenses at the palace, telling her, “The walls are much more heavily guarded than they used to be. It could be because of the dignitaries currently visiting, or because of the rebel threat, or it may have been in effect all these years, ever since you were take
n.”

  “You would have snuck inside if they weren’t, wouldn’t you?” she scolded.

  He didn’t deny it. “It would have saved so much time if I could have reached Frederick’s chambers to let him know I’ve brought you home, but it wasn’t possible.”

  Another night he came back to tell her, “I’ve visited my father-in-law. I was surprised by his warm welcome, when I had avoided all contact with him during my years of grief. He has agreed to let Henry stay with him. I will take him there the night before the palace opens again. It will be safer to rendezvous with him there, in secret, than out in the city streets.”

  It was a relaxing week for Alana. Poppie found her books to read. They played games they used to play in London. Henry joined them so they could both continue his lessons. The time didn’t drag and was even in her favor, because she finally managed to convince Poppie that escorting her inside the palace was an unnecessary risk on his part.

  He did still drive with her to the gates the day after the visiting diplomats left town. They should probably have waited another day or two. He had checked early that morning and the line was even longer than it had been before, with all palace business having been suspended that week, so they didn’t leave for the palace until noon. The line was indeed gone by then, and Alana hoped that all the people who had been there earlier hadn’t come to see the king.

  Poppie put his hand over hers and said gently, “We part here as you suggested.”

  It was a tribute to her diverse education that he had finally given in to her entreaties, because he knew she could do this on her own. And because she would have others to protect her as soon as she was inside those walls.