Anne scrunched her face. "I'm a native Portuguese for food. My brother demanded black pudding, fried eggs, sausages, beans. I didn’t like those, but my mother forced me to eat."
He grimaced. "I hate beans. No beans for me to break the fast, or in the midday meal. The brown grubber starred as the staple food at the orphanage."
"Oh, Cris, how terrible." Anne passed him a cup.
He grunted. "When we arrive in Aveiro tomorrow, I will buyovos molesfor you. If you have a sweet tooth, you will fancy the city's delicacy."
"You will search forthe king's bodyguard?" She shouldn't forget why they were here. "Do you think he can help find the... murderer?"
"I'll see what I can uncover."
"But isn't too soon for Pedro—I mean, His Excellency—to leave his bed?"
"I'll go alone."
"Is it safe?"’
He tilted his head and speared her with an inquisitive gaze. "Safe enough. Some risks we have to take, while others we should avoid."
Anne studied the crumbles on her plate. "I wish to help you... but proper English education is sorely lacking when one is escaping the authorities—"
"I saw you leaving my brother’s cabin."
"What?" Her cheeks flared, and she covered them with her hands.
He raised his brows.
"I heard him moaning. I couldn't leave him to suffer alone, could I?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did he try to… Was he inappropriate? "
"Of course not! He was in pain. Thrashing."
Cris crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair. "You should stay away from him."
His expression and the conversation turned uncomfortable. Throat dry, Anne sipped her tea and forced a smile. "We are in a boat, aren't we? Quite difficult to stay apart in such a confined place."
"Don't you think he is too old?" Cris narrowed his eyes. "You just poked your head out of the schoolroom."
"I'm not a child." She pushed the food away. "Princess Sissi married the Emperor of Austria when she was sixteen. My best friend wed this past winter, and she is a year younger than I."
"He isn't the tame gentlemen your friends take for husbands."
Cris seemed to love Pedro so much. Why would he disparage his brother's character?
Anne lifted her chin. "How long until we reach port?"
"You'll not make this easy, will you? I hoped to..." He shoved a hand through his hair, disheveling the combed strands. "I shouldn't tell you this, but Christ..." He pushed away from the table and turned his back to her, staring at the ocean.
Anne's stomach lurched, and she gripped her skirts with icy fingers. Whatever he meant to say, she didn't want to hear. Out in the sea, two seagulls flew near the deck, their white wings spread far and immobile, their screeches piercing the silence of the morning.
"Pedro cannot bear to be touched."
"I beg your pardon?"
"He can't stand a woman's touch."
Anne fisted her hands. "Why are you saying such things?"
