She wished with all her heart that she could say yes, but he hadn’t. She shook her head again.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ he muttered, then sighed. ‘Anyhow, I was the only one who knew the way, so Haigha and I came along. I had not expected the happy discovery that awaited me here in my childhood home. This side of the Looking Glass, all those baubles were no longer simply pebbles and bones. They do not make regular hats.’

‘They’re dangerous.’

‘They are marvellous. No longer does a hat complete an outfit – now it completes you. I am providing a great service to the people of Hearts and I am going to go down in history as the greatest hatter this kingdom has ever known, and as I can return to Chess whenever I wish, I will not need to lose my sanity for it.’

‘But what do they do?’

‘Anything. Everything. They can make you a little braver, a little stronger, a little more charming or interesting or intelligent—’

‘Or they might turn you into an ingredient for soup!’ she bellowed. ‘You know your hats change people, so how can you be so sure this hat didn’t change the Turtle?’

He rubbed his temple. ‘My reputation is the foundation on which this business is built. I would do nothing to harm that.’ He trailed his fingers over the ribbons and buttons and feathers scattered across the desk. ‘We can’t all be so lucky as to be offered the hand of the King, after all.’

She ignored the jab, scanning the table’s accoutrements. His hats were quirky and whimsical and beautiful in their own strange ways. And now she knew they were more marvellous than even the sign outside proclaimed. Hatta would receive acclaim as a great hatter, and also an artist, but only if his reputation remained untarnished.

It wasn’t unlike what she wanted to accomplish with her bakery. Though she didn’t care to be wealthy, she did want to make a living on her craft. She wanted people to appreciate her not for a pretty face or a family title, but for what she could make with her own two hands.

‘I apologize if I offended you, Hatta,’ she said, before she could change her mind. ‘I did not come here to argue with you. I came to make you a deal.’

‘Ah, yes. Your proposal.’

Swallowing hard, Catherine reached into her purse and pulled out the proposal she and Mary Ann had spent all night writing and revising. ‘You have my word that I won’t tell anyone about Chess or the questionable properties of your hats. On two conditions.’

He massaged the bridge of his nose, but didn’t stop her.

‘One: You must be sure your hats are safe to be worn, and stop selling them immediately if you find evidence to the contrary.’

‘A business with faulty merchandise does not flourish. I don’t require your nagging to tell me this.’

‘Fine. But you might find my second request to be a little more unconventional.’ She took a step closer. ‘I want you to give me a loan.’

He balked. ‘A loan? What – of money?’

‘Yes. Businessman to business . . . woman. I’m starting a business of my own, but I require an investor.’

He laughed, an enormous booming laugh. ‘I cannot wait to hear more.’

She set the folded letter down on Hatta’s desk, pressing it into the wood with the pad of her finger. ‘Enclosed in this letter you’ll find my proposal for Sweets and Tarts: The Most Wondrous Bakery in All of Hearts.’

He grunted. ‘How quaint.’

‘You’ve tasted what I can make. Whatever your personal feelings towards me, I ask you to consider this as a businessman. People will come from all over the land to sample the richest cakes, the sweetest pies, the softest bread they’ve ever known.’

He stared at her for a long time, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he said, ‘You plan to open a bakery.’

‘That is correct.’

‘And you want my help.’

‘I want a business loan. It’s all lined out here – payments, interest, everything.’ She felt very smart saying it, and was glad she’d broken down and asked Mary Ann for help in drafting the proposal.

There was another long, long silence, before he said, ‘And tell me, Lady Pinkerton, does a queen have time to run a bakery?’

She bristled and answered, enunciating carefully, ‘I am not a queen.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Not yet.’

The twitch in her eyebrow worsened.

Pressing his own finger into the letter, Hatta pulled it towards him across the desk. But he didn’t open it. ‘I admire your gumption more than I care to admit. You remind me something of myself.’

She bristled.

‘But no, I do not believe this would be a wise business decision, as I do not believe you will be successful in this endeavour.’

It was like being slapped – so strong, so unapologetic the rejection. ‘How can you say that?’

‘The macarons were impressive, but in your haste to blame me for the unfortunate incident at the festival, you have overlooked another possibility. Potentially incriminating evidence that others will not be so quick to dismiss. In fact, I wonder if you are so insistent on finding fault with me because you have something to hide?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘The Turtle – that poor, darling thing – had, only moments before his transformation, eaten an entire slice of your cake.’

She froze.