“And I’m supposed to believe that?” I look at him from under my brow. “I may not have much education, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“I don’t quite believe it either,” he declares to my surprise. “But that’s all I can get out of him. At least for now.”
“Just to set the record straight, it’s the truth.”
“That you’re innocent?” He fidgets again to soothe his sore butt.
“It wasn’t me who set the palace on fire. I didn’t cause the deaths of six people.”
“I believe you,” he says. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t despite Grandpa’s carrot-and-stick plan.”
I stare him in the eye. “It wasn’t my sister Jeannette either, regardless of what the entire principality thinks.”
“There was a thorough police investigation—”
“She was framed,” I cut him off.
He shuts up and studies my face. “Jeannette was your sister, your only family, given that you don’t know who your father was, and your mom abandoned you. It’s understandable you’d feel that way.”
I’m of two minds about whether to explain why my statement wasn’t about denial but based on valid clues, but then he glances at his watch again.
Stiffening my jaw, I turn my profile to him.
He holds the seat down with both hands and hoists himself up, exhaling with relief. “So, Mademoiselle Mussey, will you say yes now or should I return tomorrow?”
“I’m saying no now, and I will say no tomorrow in the event you’re dumb enough to return.”
He sweeps a long-fingered hand over his mouth. “Your file describes you as reasonable, despite your lack of education and the impulsive behavior you just displayed.”
“The file is wrong.”
“I hope you’ll change your mind and give me a different answer tomorrow morning.”
I frown. “You’re coming back tomorrow morning? Isn’t the trip from Arrago two hours?”
“I won’t be traveling from Arrago,” he responds with a condescending smile. “I’m staying at the Royal Inn here in Pombrio.”
“My answer will be the same in the morning.”
“Perhaps we’ll get to a yes the following day, then.” He smiles briefly but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’ll be my last visit. If you maintain your current stance the day after tomorrow, I’ll leave you alone.”
I sneer at him. “And risk losing your title and money?”
“It isn’t a risk. It’s a certainty.” He heads to the door, and adds without looking at me, “But I won’t beg.”
“How aristocratic of you, my lord!”
With his hand on the handle, he turns around. “Just so you know, the manager of this RV park doesn’t expect your trailer to pass the upcoming inspection.”
“What upcoming inspection? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ll be blunt. He’ll be relieved to get rid of this vehicle.”
There’d been a shift in management’s charitable attitude, it’s true, but I didn’t expect them to swing all the way to meanness.
“The owner wants to go up in scale and price,” the marquess says. “This site will welcome high-end traveling RVs only, no full-time residents. A heated swimming pool will be installed in your current spot.”
“But… he can’t do that!” I point to the box atop the closet where I keep all my documents. “I have a contract!”