‘I am not here to make a purchase,’ she said.

His eyes lifted and there was a quick and deep down-turn of his mouth. ‘Lady Pinkerton,’ he drawled, ‘I wish I could say this is a pleasant surprise.’

Catherine shouldered through the curtain. ‘Good day to you, too, Hatta. I didn’t realize you’d gone back to disliking me.’

‘What do you want? I’m busy.’

‘Would you like me to come back later?’

‘I wish you wouldn’t.’

A twitch started above her left eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure what I’ve done to earn your ire this time, but I’ve come with a proposal for you, Hatta.’

He guffawed. ‘A proposal! My, my, you capricious thing. How many men do you intend to attach yourself to?’

Her shoulders tensed. ‘So it’s the King’s proclamation that has you turned against me?’

‘I apologize, Your Ladyship,’ he spat, ‘but you are not the Queen yet, and I have no time to entertain your whimsies. As you see, I’m working.’

He did not at all look like he was working, but Cath bit back the accusation. ‘I am not engaged to the King, whatever you might think—’

He snorted.

‘And even if I were, it would be no one’s business but mine and His Majesty’s. You have no place to criticize.’

‘No one’s business but yours and His Majesty’s and the hapless chap that would twist himself into knots to impress you. But then, I suppose Jest willingly took the role of amusing plaything for the King’s court, so why should you treat him any differently?’

Her heart throbbed. ‘Jest was there when the King asked to court me. I’ve kept nothing from him, so I don’t see why you should take offence. Now, if you can stand to be civil for a moment, I came to speak with you about your business. I need only a minute of your time.’

‘You wouldn’t believe how few minutes I have left to spare.’ Hatta swung his feet down from the desk. ‘Besides, my business is mine alone, Lady Pinkerton. I bid you good day.’

She ground her teeth, trying to bury her growing annoyance. ‘As I said, I’ve come with a propo—proposition for you, and I believe a savvy businessman would hear me out.’

His lavender eyes burned with more disdain than Catherine could ever recall having directed at her. ‘You could be offering me the King’s crown itself and I would not wish to hear a word of it.’

Red spots flickered in her vision. ‘I’ve done nothing to earn such disrespect.’

‘You are not playing by the correct rules!’ he yelled, slamming his fist on his desk so hard Catherine jumped.

Hatta inhaled sharply and turned his face away. Reeling in his temper, or perhaps embarrassed that his madness – that hated family trait – was beginning to show.

Catherine swallowed and proceeded, more cautiously, ‘I did not realize we were playing a game, sir.’

He took in a few long breaths before he said, ‘No, it is not a game. I spoke with little consideration for the reality of the situation.’ He cleared his throat and peered up at her again. Some of the anger had cleared from his face. ‘You are going to marry the King, Lady Pinkerton, and I shall wish you all the happiness in the world. I am only ashamed to have been party to your feigned interest in my friend. All those smiles and flirtations, and all the while you had your eye set on a crown? Quite the step up from a hat that jingles, I’ll give you that.’

‘I am not—’ She paused. Digging her nails into her palms, she continued, calmer, ‘I feigned nothing with Jest, but as I said, that is all between Jest and the King and me and has nothing at all to do with you.’

‘He is my oldest and dearest friend.’ Hatta glared at her, making Cath feel like a weed to be plucked. ‘I do not wish to see him hurt.’

Her face was burning, self-loathing pulsing against her temple, when her eye fell on a bowler hat on the corner of Hatta’s desk, wrapped with green ribbon. ‘What is that doing here?’

Hatta’s gaze dropped and one eyebrow had shot up when he looked at her again. ‘In case you had not noticed, I make hats.’

Shaking her head, she reached for the bowler cap, but Hatta batted her away. She frowned. ‘That’s the Turtle’s hat, the one he was wearing when he . . . when . . . during the festival.’

‘How observant you are.’

She stared at him. Waiting.

He stared back.

Catherine lifted her chin. ‘Did this hat have something to do with the tragic thing that happened?’

‘You’ll have to be more specific.’

‘You know precisely what I’m talking about! Did this hat . . . Hatta, are your hats dangerous?’

‘Dangerous! Bah!’ His tone was scathing, harsh with ridicule. But a moment later he was marching around the desk and into the main showroom and shooing away the two Owls. Upon seeing the look in his eyes, they were quick to flutter out the door without complaint, and Hatta swung around the sign to read CLOSED. He slammed the door shut and stormed back to the office. Catherine had not moved.

‘Am I right?’ she continued. ‘Your hats . . . they change people, don’t they?’

‘You have no idea what you’re speaking of.’ A careless flick of his fingers enraged Catherine further.

‘Then explain it to me.’

He chortled. ‘My, my. I cannot recall the last time I was thus ordered around. What a fine queen you will make.’