Truth about Leo by Katie MacAlister Read Free Book Online Page A

send us to England.”
    â€œMmm. I don’t know any English officers. And I highly doubt if I were to meet one that he’d offer to marry me in the next two days.”
    Silence fell over the house. Dagmar continued to worry away at the problem, thinking all sorts of thoughts of daring escapes from Frederick’s men en route to the French convent, but sadly resigning them all to the rubbish bin when she realized that she was responsible for Julia, the least daring person she knew.
    â€œI wonder if he could be an officer.”
    Dagmar dragged herself from a dark reverie. “Hmm? He who?”
    â€œThe person you told me not to mention again.” Julia was barely visible in the gathering twilight, but Dagmar could see the silhouette of her arm as she gestured toward the door, adding in a whisper, “The wounded man.”
    â€œOh, him. I’m sure he’s just some merchant.”
    â€œHe didn’t look like a merchant. He had documents written in English in his boot.”
    Dagmar sat up and stared into the deepening shadows. It was one thing for Julia to have a few nips of brandy and become overly concerned about a drunkard in the garden, but another for her to create such an odd detail. “How do you know what he had in his boot?”
    â€œOne of them was partially off, and I saw a bit of paper, and naturally, I thought it might give some insight into who he was, so I peeked at it. It appeared to be something about the Czar in Russia, but it was most definitely written in English. And no merchant would have that, would he?”
    Dagmar sat silent for a minute, considering this. “The English navy attacked four days ago…I suppose it’s possible that he might be one of them. But he wasn’t wearing a uniform.”
    â€œNo, but his clothes were very nice. Dirty and torn and bloody, but you could tell they were of a good quality.”
    Dagmar gave in to the inevitable. She hadn’t at first believed the man could truly be wounded, since she hadn’t seen any signs of injuries, but Julia’s tale was beginning to cast an ominous light on things. She couldn’t leave a wounded man to lurk about her garden. Directly on the heels of that thought came another, one that had so much potential, she allowed it to dance in her brain, illuminating all sorts of very interesting possibilities. “His driving coat did seem to be made of nice cloth. And you say the rest of his clothing was similar?”
    â€œVery nice quality, yes. As nice as the crown prince’s garments, I would say.”
    â€œHe might be someone visiting the ambassador. Or one of the ambassador’s staff, itself. How very interesting.” Dagmar sat indecisive for a moment, then got to her weary feet. There was no avoiding the fact that she needed to go see if this man was as injured as Julia said. Her sainted mother had brought her up to take care of those less fortunate, and she knew full well that Mama would haunt her to the end of her days if she shirked that responsibility. There was no reason she shouldn’t benefit from such generosity, however. “It’s entirely possible that he’s English and of some worth, and if that’s so, then he must have family somewhere who would pay good money to have him back.”
    â€œPrincess!” Julia gasped as Dagmar scrabbled around under the stove until she found a length of tattered rope. “What are you saying?”
    â€œWere you never taught history as a girl? Dearest Papa used to tell wonderful tales about knights of yore and how they were always capturing each other and then ransoming their captors back to their families for massive mounds of gold and jewels.”
    Julia weaved a little. “You don’t mean…you can’t really intend to hold that poor man hostage, can you?”
    â€œOf course I can. It’s the most logical thing ever.” Dagmar ticked the items off on her fingers.