Sweet Tannenbaum

Sweet Tannenbaum

by Sue London

A young woman needs escort to see her brother in London.  The man who can help her is also the one who has been waiting to ask that brother some questions after the Congress of Vienna. Family relations turn sour, but her escort refuses to leave Town until after Christmas. Will that magical season put all their troubles to rights?

Krystyna Rokiczana wants her brother to fulfill his responsibilities and this is her last chance to talk to him before she is a married lady. Their family has a destiny, a future, unless he throws it all away. If she can set aside her own feelings and plans for the advancement of their family, then why can’t he?

Hans Von Rosen has not adjusted well to retirement from service. But the wars, and the negotiation for peace, are over. Now the sister of a former colleague needs assistance. As her goals align with his own, he agrees to help her. What he didn’t expect was to become so enchanted by her. Or to discover she was already engaged to marry another man.

Sweet Tannenbaum

(A Haberdashers Tale)

by Sue London

bysuelondon.wordpress.com

Graythorn Publishing

Copyright © 2014 Sue London

All rights reserved

Cover by Kim Killion, Hot Damn Designs

This book may not be reproduced by any means including but not limited to photocopy, digital, auditory, and/or in print.

To those who rush in where angels fear to tread. Sometimes love requires risks that only fools can take.

Chapter One

December 1815, Prussia

Hans listened to the clock ticking behind him. It was an irrefutable sound, almost like witnessing time marching by with steady feet and sober eye. He wasn't a man given to flights of fancy, but he also wasn't much given to inactivity and he'd had more than his fill of late. After ten years in the Prussian army, and two years in the diplomatic service, now, here he was, moldering at his father's country estate, listening to clocks. He didn't want to read anything, didn't want to 
do
 anything. Except that doing anything at all could be preferable to this irritable
ennui
. None of the family were in residence, so it was just him and the faithful family retainers he had grown up knowing. He was bored. He was surly. He was, in short, in one of the foulest tempers he'd ever known.

But he knew that no one would suspect such a thing. If there was one thing Hans prided himself on, it was his impassive yet slightly disapproving expression. It had frightened his subordinates and given his superiors a confidence in his abilities that perhaps at times they shouldn't have had. In his youth it had cleverly masked the fact that he had been impulsive to the border of recklessness. In the war with Napoleon his actions should have assured his death a hundred times over. But God apparently did protect the fool. Especially the courageous, reckless fool. Rather than die he collected medals and ranks, but what did it all matter now? The wars were over. Peace had been settled. He could think of nothing to do with himself, save continue to sink lower in this leather chair and listen to the ticking of the clock with a combination of curiosity and rage that even he couldn't explain.

There was a soft knock at the door. He scowled at it.

"Enter!" he barked.

Gunter, a footman of middling years who would probably take over the butler duties when old Albert pensioned, bowed into the room. "My apologies for interrupting you, mein Herr. There is a lady here asking for Henry."

Henry. His brilliant, charming, and woefully irresponsible little brother. God only knew what Henry had promised her. Had done to or with her.

"And when you say lady you mean...?"

Gunter nodded in understanding. "She carries herself as a true lady, sir."

"Receiving room?"

"Yes, sir."

Hans stood, straightened his jacket, and walked as purposely toward the front of the Manor as he used to the barracks that housed his troops. At least he wasn't at the mercy of the blasted clock anymore.

* * *

Krystyna wanted to wring her hands. She wanted to pace and fret, perhaps even find someone to shout at. But it wasn't appropriate to do any of those things. So she calmly folded her hands together at her waist and stared out the window at the gardens flanking the Von Rosen estate, robust even as winter approached. She knew from Casimir's letters that such homes were common places for him to stay, but to her the beauty and opulence were staggering. It was only now that she started to understand how wide the gulf between them had become. She took to studying the interplay of shadows and colors across the lawn and waited for Casimir's friend Henry to make an appearance.

* * *

Hans stopped at the doorway. Gunter had sold her a bit short. She didn't carry herself as a lady, but as a queen. Head high, spine straight, shoulders back. He had rarely seen officers with such perfect posture. Her association with Henry would be mystifying except that he had learned his rakish little brother was capable of seducing almost any woman. The only question that remained was what sort of trouble his brother had gotten himself into with her.

“Frau,” he said, bowing to her as she turned. 

She curtsied briefly. When she spoke, her voice was a rich contralto tinged with a faint accent. “Thank you for seeing me, Herr Von Rosen.”

“Of course. How may I be of assistance?”

“My brother told me that if I ever needed anything, I could come to you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. Something in the shape of her face teased a memory. “Your brother?”

She took a step forward and the afternoon light fell across her. “Casimir. I’m Krystyna Rokiczana.”

It was obvious, now that she’d said it. Casimir had served with him in the Prussian delegation at the Congress of Vienna. But although the resemblance was evident in her face, she held herself far differently than her brother. Where the young Polishman had the negligent attitude of a jaded gentleman, his sister had a far different demeanor. And it was true that Casimir was a particular friend of Henry’s, although a sister had never been mentioned to Hans. “I have no doubt that your brother would tell you to trust me. Which leaves me to wonder why you asked for my brother Henry?”

Her brow furrowed. “You are not Henry?”

“I’m his brother, Hans. But I know Casimir and would be delighted to assist you, if you would tell me what you need.”

She shook her head distractedly. “When will Henry return?”

Hans shrugged. “That is almost impossible to say. When he wants to, I would assume. No sooner, although possibly later.”

“Today?”

Hans couldn’t help himself from chuckling. “Likely not this month. Or the next.”

Her expression betrayed some irritation. “Then where is he?”

“It’s not as though he reports to me."

The look she gave him was disappointed and condemning, all at once. It wasn’t an expression he was accustomed to seeing directed at himself. At Henry, yes, but never himself. She drew a breath as though seeking calm and returned her face to a benign complacency. "Well, sir, I may need to throw myself on your good graces. I require escort to see my brother."

"I see. And you know where he is?"

"Of course." Her barely raised brow betrayed her belief that it was outrageous to not know the location of one's siblings.

This was good news, as one thing Hans had been meaning to do since the Congress had ended was track down Casimir Rokiczana. However, he hadn't wanted to use his usual information sources for fear of drawing attention to the young man, who had left the Congress early in somewhat suspicious circumstances. Hans had covered for him at the time, partially because the Polishman was his brother's best friend, and a seemingly good influence at that, but also because Hans had rather liked Casimir. Liked him well enough that he had given the younger man an unquestioned hour to clear out his room with the slim promise of explaining it all later. Apparently later had come, in the form of one Krystyna Rokiczana.

He bowed again. "Then I am at your service, Frau Rokiczana. When will you be prepared to leave?"

"Now," she said abruptly.

"Your entourage will be prepared to leave again so quickly?"

If possible, her chin raised another notch. "I traveled here alone."

"That sounds unwise," he said mildly. His gaze lowered to her hem, and it was indeed dusty and mud spattered from travel. The mud ended just a few inches up from the floor, most likely overlaid during her travels by a cloak she had handed over to Gunter when she arrived. "You don't need any rest yourself?"

"I need to go to London. You do speak English, don't you?"

Chapter Two

When her brother had described Henry Von Rosen, he said the man had the income of a
gentleman but the heart of a rogue. She should have known on sight that this was 
not
 Henry Von Rosen. This man was over six feet of officiousness. Not a rogue, but a 
dowódca
. A commander
. She didn't particularly care for being commanded. A roguish boy of Casimir's age would have been like traveling with her own little brother. She wasn't sure of this Hans, and their companionship would be dubious at best. But needs must, and she needed both trusted protection and a fair interpreter as her own English was lacking. It was perhaps foolhardy to believe that Casimir's trust of this man's brother extended to Hans himself. But it wouldn't be long before the men loyal to her mother tracked her down, so if she was going to find her brother and plead her case with him, then it needed to be now.

She didn't catch his response to her last question. "Slower please?" she asked in German.

"Indeed," he repeated in English. It took her a moment but she recalled it was an answer in the affirmative.

"Good. When can you leave?"

He stood with his hands behind his back. "I had a busy morning, but I suppose that I can set all of that aside to be your escort."

She sensed some humor lacing his words, though she wasn't sure precisely where it was lurking beneath his impassive face and dry tone. It was perhaps for the best that his personality was lacking, as otherwise he would be quite devastatingly handsome. Flaxen blond hair, a strong jaw, and eyes as vivid as the blue irises that had grown near her home when she was a child. Rather than respond to the mild humor she thought she detected, she merely said, "That will be acceptable."

His eyebrows rose very slightly, but he nodded. "Perhaps you would like to refresh yourself while I gather a few things?"

"Yes. Please."

* * *

Hans remanded the intriguing Frau Rokiczana to Albert and called for his valet to attend him. 

"What do we know of this lady?" he asked as soon as Erich entered. 

The valet smoothly went about his labors while informing Hans. "She arrived alone, on a winded horse. It is of good, but not excellent, quality. Although the state of the horse and the fact she is alone would indicate she is running from something, she did not have any impatience with the servants. Based only on her interactions, she would appear to have arrived for a social call."

"Anything else of note?"

"She has no baggage other than one small valise on the horse's saddle."

"Interesting." Hans thought through
his options. She hadn't brought a maid or chaperone for her protection. Should he insist on providing one? The larger their party, the slower their progress would be to London. He was trustworthy, which was certainly more than he could say for the brother to which Casimir had referred her, but
didn't know if she would resist traveling under the guise of husband and wife in order to protect her. And that led him back to wondering why Casimir had encouraged her to contact Henry in the first place. Yes, the two of them had been thick as thieves for years now, but didn't the Polishman know that Henry had a certain... weakness when it came to the fairer sex? "If she is in a hurry, then I had best convey her to her brother in all haste. Would you mind acting the coachman for us?"

"Of course not, sir."

Hans knew that there was no one he would rather entrust with the lady's safety and secrets than Erich. They had served together in the Wars, with the ironclad trust inherent in such a
shared background. Perhaps it was due to his recent years in more clandestine work, but he had no interest in sharing the Rokiczanas' information with anyone. To his mind th
e fewer people who knew who she was, or where she was going, the better.

* * *

Krystyna was taken to a gorgeously appointed burgundy and gold bedroom, and provided a maid for help in her toilette. She took advantage of the opportunity, having her dress aired and brushed while she gave herself a quick towel bath. Geography she understood, as well as rates of travel. It was probably too much to hope for that Herr Von Rosen would agree to travel on horseback. Horses were also something she understood. At the moment, she envied her brother's facility with languages, but she wouldn’t allow her own unfamiliarity with English be a deterrent. Further, her own skills and strengths might serve her just as well on this journey now that she had an interpreter. And, although it irked her to admit it, protector. Even if she didn't like it, men served a purpose. 

Her mother had often criticized the waspish disregard that Krystyna had for men. "No husband will want to be treated like a pack horse," she would say. But Krystyna assumed it didn't matter how she treated men, as her marriage had been arranged when she was barely old enough to speak. Obviously who she was, and how she chose to be, had no bearing on the relationship whatsoever. She suspected, however, that her overbearing manner and wicked tongue had made her mother delay the engagement even longer than might be expected under the excuses of family
tragedies. It had been four years since her father's death. Yes, the dark shadow of the crimes of which he had been accused still lingered over them, but in the intervening years Krystyna
had aged
from 
ingénue
 to
spinster. Her mother regretted, no doubt, that the family had decided to wait until Casimir's engagement before allowing her to marry. It should have been a simple delay that had her wed and bed over four years ago. Instead, it had turned into an eternal delay.