The Lost Baroness Read online

She expected him to lay her on the bed and bury himself in her body.

  All he did was kiss her hair. "You're sure?"

  No, she was not sure. She was frightened. Confused. Afraid he would steal her heart, before he resumed his search for the missing girl. She could have given herself to him out of self-interest, to obtain his help. No price was too great to pay, if it brought her children back to her.

  Or so she had thought, until this moment.

  "Teach me," she said again, feeling as if she was about to step off a high cliff.

  Buff knew she was scared to death. He did his best to contain his hunger for her, to be patient and gentle.

  That husband of hers must have been a clumsy bastard. Buff hadn't a doubt Siri was as passionate, as responsive as any woman he'd bedded. That she had never been awakened was a crime to be laid directly at Valter's feet.

  He closed his eyes. For to look at her body, gleaming pale in the flickering firelight, was to go to the edge of a precipice whence there was no return. Once, a long time ago, when he was young and untried, he had desired a woman the way he wanted Siri. For a moment he let himself enjoy the anticipation of the first time again. He might be an experienced lover, but he knew he was about to take a step he'd never taken before.

  Tarnation! What's happening to me?

  He put all disturbing questions out of his mind. Siri wanted him to teach her the delights of the flesh. Tonight he would make a good beginning at it.

  He caught her hand and brought it to the placket of his Union suit. "This works better if we're both undressed," he told her.

  She closed her eyes. Her fingers fumbled at the first button, then became sure as she slowly worked each one free.

  When she could go no lower without getting off his lap, he rose and let her legs slide to the floor. "Keep goin'," he said.

  Was that hoarse sound his voice?

  She hesitated as she touched the button just south of his navel. "That's good enough," he told her. "Now take it off my shoulders."

  Her eyes flashed open, then closed again. But her hands went to his shoulders and pushed.

  The knit fabric caught on the width of him, and she had to work it over one shoulder at a time. Buff felt his body thrum, but he kept his hands light at her waist. Beneath his palms, he felt a constant, fine quiver, as if a harp string vibrated somewhere inside her.

  She freed one arm, then the other. As soon as she'd pulled the sleeve over his hand, the rest of the Union suit dropped, to lay about his ankles. If there's anything more undignified... Buff hadn't gone to a woman's bed clad in a Union suit for a long time. He kicked his feet loose and stepped back an arm's length. For the first time he really looked at her.

  He'd thought her skinny. Now he saw she was naturally slim, with small bones and little spare flesh. But what flesh she had was well enough padded, with high, plump breasts, a sweetly rounded belly--no jutting hipbones here--and womanly hips flaring from a tiny waist. He slid his hands around to cup her buttocks, and found them firm and full.

  "You're beautiful," he said. "All silver and ivory. Like a fine sculpture."

  "Ah, nej. I am not--"

  Again he silenced her with a kiss.

  She tasted of coffee. She smelled of cinnamon. When he slid his fingers through her loosened hair, it flowed over them like warm, molten metal, a magical metal, half alive. "Ah, Siri, I feel like I've been looking for you all my life," he whispered.

  Carefully he lowered her to the makeshift bed, she clung to him. "Let me see to the fire," he said.

  The sleet must have stopped, he decided as he turned the half-burnt logs so they'd radiate more heat to the room. Not a whisper of sound came from outside.

  Siri was flat on her back, hands folded across her waist, when he returned to her. Her eyes were enormous and her teeth worried her lower lip.

  "Don't be nervous. I won't hurt you." As he eased himself down, he lay his hand on her midriff. The skin quivered, as if she'd fought an urge to recoil.

  His temper, fed by the dull ache in his head, snapped. "Damn it, Siri! If you don't want this, just say so. You've been blowing hot and cold all evening."

  "Oh, please. I do not mean...I do want...ohhhh! I am so confused!" The last words ended on a wail. Tears oozed from her tightly closed eyes.

  "Then what's wrong? First you act like you're trying to seduce me, then you practically cringe when I touch you. "

  She pushed herself upright, pulling the tail of a slicker across her lap. "You are a kind man," she told him, her face lowered so he couldn't see her eyes. "I know this, but my...my body does not believe it. Valter was...not gentle. Sometimes he hurt me. He was so big, and when he... I was too small for him. It hurt. Sometimes I bled."

  She traced a pattern on the oiled canvas with one finger. "You are even bigger. I...I looked. I want you to teach me to enjoy, but I fear...I do not want to hurt again."

  Well, hell! Buff flopped down beside her and stared at the smoke-stained ceiling.

  He almost laughed. Here they were, both naked as jaybirds, alone and likely to stay that way. He was horny and she was willing. And every time they got too close to doing anything, they talked each other out of it.

  "Siri," he said, "let's get some sleep. Tomorrow could be a rough day."

  "Förlåt mig?"

  "Lie down," he repeated, patting the floor beside him. "We can talk about this again, when we're safely back to town."

  She eyed him suspiciously, but finally lay down next to him. He pulled the petticoat over them both, then arranged the slicker on top of it.

  After a while he slept.

  * * *

  Morning came eventually. Siri felt as if she hadn't slept at all, but she must have. The harsh cries of crows had wakened her, as if a whole village of them were holding a meeting in the woods. For a moment she lay still, not wanting to open her eyes and face Mr. Lachlan.

  She was so förlägen...so embarrassed. How could she have been so bold?

  And then, when he had taken her invitation, how could she have been so dum...so stupid as to become shy and frightened?

  Perhaps he was still asleep. She rolled toward him, as just waking. Her hand, that should have brushed his side, touched only the cold surface of a slicker. He is gone! was her first thought. He has left me alone!

  Fear uncurled in her belly and she sat up. The air in the small shed was like ice. The fireplace held only a few glowing embers. Quickly she pulled the wool petticoat around herself and snuggled back under the slicker. At least the bed was still warm.

  So dark! What time is it? Her clothing should still be on the clothesline. But where was her underkläder? The last she had seen, her Union suit had been lying on the floor. Over here, she thought, and stretched that way.

  Her groping hand found knit cloth. It was cold, so she clutched it against her body to warm it. The skirt and blouse would not be so uncomfortable once she was decently covered.

  The crows kept up their noise. What could be disturbing them so?

  A faint odor of tobacco and woodsmoke came to her nose. Curious, she looked toward the fireplace. No, it was not smoking. Then she realized that the garment she held was the source of the smell. How I wish I could see!

  But she didn't have to see. Now that she was paying attention, she knew that the garment she held was not hers. The fabric was too new and too rich. Not stretched and thin from years of washing.

  She hugged it close to her for a moment, before tucking it down by her feet, where it would hold the warmth of her body. Cautiously, with frequent glances toward the door, she crawled from the bed. Her Union suit had to be here, somewhere.

  It was, lying half on top of the log seat. Not caring now how cold it was. she wriggled into it. With a hand out in front of her, she inched toward the corner where Mr. Lachlan had stretched the clothesline. The floor was rough and splintery under her feet. And cold.

  I wonder what happened to those warm socks.

  She was buttoning her skirt when a knock
came at the door. Siri's heart stopped.

  "It's me," Mr. Lachlan said, as he pushed the door open slightly. "Can I come in?"

  "Ja. You did not have to knock." Valter never would have asked permission to enter any place where she was.

  "Dark in here." Leaving the door open, he dropped the wood he was carrying beside the fireplace. "We'll have to hurry. It'll be full daylight in a bit. I want to get on the trail."

  The gray light coming through the doorway barely penetrated the gloom inside. It was enough for her to see that his hair glistened with moisture. "I will be ready in a moment." She reached for the heavy sweater.

  "There's water in the pail. As soon as I get the fire built up, you'll want to start it warming. I want coffee before we go."

  "But--"

  "Siri, it's going to be a rough trip back. Everything's iced up. You'll be glad of the coffee before we're halfway to Astoria."

  Soon flames were leaping toward the chimney. Siri hung the pail of water on the crude hook. "I heard the crows. Were they scolding you?"

  He chuckled. "I was taking a look around, trying to see if I could find where the bas...fellow who hit me had gone. I guess they decided I was getting too close to their roost. Must have been a couple of hundred of them."

  "They are uppkäftig...sassy birds. I like them." She found one of the socks behind the log seat, but where was the other? Her hairpins were gone, every one. "Here are your slippers, but I cannot find the other sock."

  "It's in the pack. I stumbled over it when I was dressing."

  His grin was just a little bit sheepish. Siri wondered if he was as embarrassed as she was. Without looking at him, she handed him the footwear and the blue-and-green scarf. "You have no hat, so you must wear this."

  Their hands met. Clung.

  "Siri--"

  "Skynda dig. We do not have time to speak of it now. We must hurry."

  "Yeah, you're right. But we'll talk about it soon. There's something special between us, and we're going to discuss it."

  The coffee was hot and bitter. It warmed her belly and sent energy seeping along her arms and legs. Although there were only a few small bites of the dried meat for each of them, she found her hunger satisfied. When he wrapped the scarf around his head, she had to smile. Even wearing a woman's headdress, he was totally masculine. And beautiful. "Så skön", she breathed, too softly for him to hear.

  The world glistened and shone. The fine droplets that filled the air, not quite rain, froze the instant they encountered the layers of ice that coated everything. Even the ground was icy. Each careful step they took crackled. Siri was glad of the umbrella, for she could use it as a staff, to help keep her balance.

  Mr. Lachlan led the way, across the end of the young orchard and to the edge of the woods. The crows berated them every inch of the way, and some followed along after they were in the woods, flying from tree to tree. Siri wondered if they were an escort, whose task was to make sure the intruders were well and truly gone.

  Or are they warning someone of our progress?

  As soon as the thought came, she banished it. Fantasi, she told herself. Dum fantasi!

  Buff cut himself a walking stick soon after they entered the woods. Although the ground here wasn't ice-coated, it was still slick. The temperature must have hovered right at freezing all night long, for the mud was almost slushy, as if the water in it couldn't make up its mind whether to turn to ice or not.

  Their pace was slower than yesterday. He turned often to check on Siri. She didn't seem to be having any trouble keeping up, but he still worried. His pa had raised him to have a concern for the women in his keeping, no matter how strong and independent they were. Siri was both, but she was still unused to living rough.

  So was he, for that matter. Too many years playing the gentleman, he told himself. Pa would be ashamed of you, letting yourself get caught like you did yesterday.

  I wonder who it was waiting for me. Or was he just a vagrant, defending the comfortable little hidey hole he'd found?

  No, he didn't think his assailant had set up housekeeping in the stables. There'd been no sign that anyone had been sleeping there.

  That leaves you with two choices. Either he was waiting for us, or he was a guard, set to keep any snoopers away.

  Buff leaned toward the latter, but he wouldn't entirely eliminate the possibility that someone was following him. He'd had an itchy feeling along his spine more than once since coming to Astoria.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Watch it." Buff held the icy branch up so Siri could duck under it. At the rate they were going, they'd be lucky to make Astoria by dark. It must be nearly eleven and they weren't halfway yet. A good thing he'd decided against taking time to talk to Mr. Daws.

  Ice cracked and fell, showering her shoulders. "I think it's getting colder," he muttered. Although the sky had lightened somewhat since they'd started, here, under the heavy forest canopy, was like twilight. They couldn't see where they were putting their feet and could barely see far enough ahead to avoid running into the many drooping, ice-sheathed branches. He'd lost count of the times they'd had to push their way through ice-covered foliage or past fallen saplings.

  "How are you doing?" he said.

  "I am fine," Siri told him. But there was a catch in her voice.

  "We ought to be getting to Upper Astoria soon. We can rest then."

  She stopped in the trail and turned around. "I am sorry, Mr. Lachlan."

  Her face was a pale oval in the mist, glistening with moisture. "Why? It was my idea to see what we could find at your mother-in-law's house."

  "If we had come by boat..." Her teeth were worrying her lower lip again.

  "We might still have been walking back. What if we hadn't showed up at the docks? Would a boatman have waited for us? Come looking for us?"

  "I did not think of that. Perhaps not. The river is treacherous at night. He would have wanted to go back before dark."

  "Then stop fretting about something you can't change." He smiled down at her. A more bedraggled female he couldn't remember. "Didn't I see a little cafe in Upper Astoria? I'll bet they have coffee?"

  "I do not know. I have never stopped there."

  He'd bet she'd never felt she could afford to. "Well, then, let's go see. It's probably not much farther."

  One might have called it a cafe, he decided when they finally reached the small settlement, if one was feeling particularly generous. The important thing was that the tavern served food and hot coffee. The sheet-metal stove in the middle of the room gave off enough heat to set their clothing to steaming. Buff and Siri hung their slickers in the vestibule, but took their headscarves inside to dry while they ate.

  They collected curious stares from the men at the tables. The bartender raised an eyebrow at Siri, but didn't say anything. Buff reckoned she wasn't the kind of female who usually frequented the place.

  The beans had been on the stove a couple of days, but they were well flavored with ham and the cornbread was fresh. He made short work of his first bowl and asked for a second. His meager breakfast hadn't stayed with him very long. Siri stopped eating about halfway through her beans and toyed with the bread.

  "Eat," he told her. "You'll need it this afternoon."

  "I try," she whispered. "It...it sticks in my throat." In the harsh light from the kerosene lantern above their table, her cheekbones looked almost sharp in her face.

  "Damn it, Siri, you've got to eat. This afternoon's going to be every bit as rough a walk as this morning was."

  "I know." She lifted a spoonful of beans to her mouth. Then lowered it again. "I cannot."

  Buff thought a moment. "Bring me a beer," he called to the bartender.

  "Beer?" Her expression went beyond disapproval. "You are going to drink a beer?"

  He waited to answer until the beer was placed on the table. Pushing it across to her, he said, "No. You are."

  "Nej! I do not--"

  "Siri, my ma can't eat when she's scared or wor
ried. So Pa gets her a little bit drunk and then she can swallow. I want you to drink the beer. It won't hurt you, and maybe it'll relax you enough so you can finish your dinner."

  For a long moment she stared at him. "I get very sleepy when I drink beer," she said finally. "You will not want to carry me all the way to Astoria."

  "Just drink. We'll worry about you walking after you've eaten."

  Dubiously she sipped from the glass, made a face. "It is bitter!"

  "Drink."

  "You are grym," she told him. But she continued to sip.

  After a while she stopped making faces. Pretty soon she picked up her spoon and took a bite. Then another. By the time Buff had finished his second bowl of beans and ham, she'd eaten everything before her. There was about an inch of beer left in her glass. "Must I drink that? Jag är så mätt!" She patted her middle. "I have not eaten so much for a long time."

  "You did fine. Ready to go?"

  The mist had turned to rain, much to Buff's relief. He'd rather put up with the big drips from foliage than have to fight his way through more of the icy barricades they'd encountered all along the trail this morning. He opened the umbrella, held it over her.

  As if reading his mind, Siri said, "Perhaps we can use the lower trail. It will be muddy, but so much easier to walk."

  "The one along the water? Will the tide be low enough?"

  "I must see." She turned toward the dock. Buff followed her.

  The water slapped at the pilings scarcely a foot below the thick planks they stood on. He stared at it, trying to see which direction it was flowing. In circles, it looked like to him. The mist was so thick he couldn't see out into the river more than a few yards. "It looks pretty high to me."

  "There has been much rain." She watched for several minutes. Buff couldn't see what she was looking at. Just brown water, surging against the pilings with whispery splashes.

  "I think we must use the upper trail," Siri said. "Even if the tide is going out, it will be a long time before we can walk on the beach."

  Well, hell! "Let's get going, then. I'd like to make town before sundown."

  * * *

  Before he went to his lodging, Jaeger went to the post office. The next payment from Thorssen was overdue. Soon he would have to decide whether to abandon the task he had been paid to do, or to continue.