Mrs. Honeycutt’s smile deepened. “It means ill-tempered.”
“I am not ill-tempered, Mrs. Honeycutt. Unfortunately, the ability to chatter idly is not in my nature.”
One of her eyebrows arched above the other. “What makes you think my chatter is idle? I don’t know you well enough to decide if you’re truly morose, although I knew a gentleman like you once. Never saw even a corner of his mouth lift in a smile. When he died, it was discovered that there was an exceptionally large tumor in his stomach. Do you suppose you have a tumor in your stomach, Mr. Brendan?” A saucy little smile curved the corners of her mouth.
The last time a woman had smiled like that at him, he’d kissed her. The idea rumbled around in some remote reach of his brain. Marek didn’t understand her, and in these circumstances, he didn’t want to understand her, her comeliness notwithstanding. He didn’t care how her eyes sparkled enticingly in the light of a thousand candles. She was becoming a nuisance and he had other much more important matters weighing on him. Which led him to the question once more—why was she bothering him? “Mrs. Honeycutt, if I may... Whoareyou?”
She laughed. “I’ve told you!”
“Je,but for the life of me I don’t understand your—” he tried to think of the word in English, and gestured impatiently “—bother.”
“Mybother! How delightfully charming.”
He’d insulted her again, which had not been his intent. His English was quite good, except when he was flustered. “Why are you following me?” he asked. Better to get to the heart of the matter than continue to misspeak.
She blinked as if the question caught her by surprise. She averted her gaze, and for a moment, he thought she would flee.
But, of course, she didn’t flee. She tapped a finger against her lips, considering his question, and was he imagining it, or did she look a bit guilty?
“Youarefollowing me.” Something in his chest tightened with the realization. Was she the only one? Were there others?
Her smile faded. She sighed. And then she nodded. “I am.”
Marek was stunned. He’d expected her to deny it, to offer some excuse. When she didn’t, it set him back even more. “You arefollowingme?” he asked with disbelief.
“Yes!” She sounded remorseful. “I am, Iam,Mr. Brendan, but I didn’t mean for you to realize it.”
He looked around them, half expecting guards or soldiers or someone to leap out and take him. But when none did, he frowned. “But why?”
She toyed with her earring. Bit her bottom lip. Sighed heavenward again. “This is very difficult to explain. The truth is that I have a gnawing suspicion about you.”
His heart leaped. If she suspected him, who else did? “What sort of suspicion?”
Mrs. Honeycutt glanced down at her feet. “That you are—maybe—plotting a...”
He didn’t hear her clearly. “A clue?” he repeated uncertainly.
She looked up. “Not a clue, acoup.A coup d’état.”
He stared at her. “Why in heaven would you suspect such a thing? What have you heard?”
She looked as if she meant to say one thing, but then her eyebrows rose. “What haveyouheard?”
He wasn’t going to play games with her. He suddenly shifted forward, so much that she leaned back a little. “Tell me the truth, please, Mrs. Honeycutt. What do you know?”
She slowly straightened. “That’s what I would like to ask you, Mr. Brendan. What doyouknow? Why are you keeping such a close eye on King Maksim? Why do you shadow him at every event?”
She had indeed been watching him. “He is my king,” he said carefully.
“And Victoria is my queen, but I don’t follow her every move. I don’t seek her out and stare at her as if she’s an unrequited love. You’ve been keeping a very close eye on your king, closer than anyone else.” She lifted her chin. “For your information, I am conducting an investigation.”
An investigation! Did the word mean what he thought it meant? How was it that this woman of privilege was in a position to conduct anything? Did she think this was some sort of parlor game? “You are speaking nonsense.”
“Really?” She reached for the reticule dangling from her wrist. She pulled open the strings, then withdrew a calling card and handed it to him.
Marek eyed her warily before taking it. He glanced down at the card.
Mrs. Hollis Honeycutt, Publisher
