Sweet Tannenbaum (2 page)

Chapter Three

Hans wasn't surprised that his guest was timely in meeting him in the foyer. She managed to seem both impatient and unhurried at the same time.

"Frau," he said, with a nod to her. "If it meets your approval, we will leave your horse in the care of our grooms and take the small carriage?"

He saw a brief tightening of her lips but she nodded readily enough. "I am at your mercy, Herr Von Rosen."

Her tone was neutral, but he had spent some time now in the business of observing others. "You would prefer horseback?"

"I would prefer haste."

"There are any number of misfortunes that can befall two riders on horseback."

"Arguing about it will just waste our time. However you wish to proceed, Herr Von Rosen, I am at your disposal."

His instinct was that she was being pursued, and concerned that her pursuers
would overtake her if she tarried too long. Although not sure she should be avoiding whoever it was, the only factor he could be sure of was Casimir. She wanted to go to Casimir
. He wanted to talk to Casimir. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

"I thought a light carriage to be a good compromise. There are risks, certainly, should the weather turn on us, but it would offer some protection that mere horseback would not. I took the liberty of having your bag transferred." He held his arm out. "If you would like to proceed, frau?"

She delicately rested her hand at his elbow with all the aplomb of a queen accepting escort from a lowly knight.

* * *

Four hours had passed and Herr Von Rosen hadn't uttered so much as a word. He seemed unconcerned by the silence, at his ease in the carriage seat. It was, indeed, a 
small
 carriage and she could scarce avoid bumping up against him as the tiny conveyance careened up and down the narrow roads. To distract herself she tried to calculate speed and guess at their route in order to predict how much time the journey would take. With any luck, it could be less than four
days. Depending, of course, on whether Herr Von Rosen had the same desire for speed that she did. Night was already falling, however, so their first day's journey was almost at an end.

When he spoke, it took her by such surprise that she
almost jumped. "We had not discussed it, but for your protection I planned for us to travel under the guise of a married couple. With separate rooms, as befits our station, of course."

She nodded slowly. "That is agreeable."

"This close to my home it is possible that we will encounter someone who knows me, so let us be clear on our story. I would say that we met through my brother Henry, perhaps two years ago? But only recently married."

"How will you explain my absence after this?"

Von Rosen smiled, an arresting smile that transformed his passive face into one of devilish amusement. "Leave that to me."

She would leave it to him. She would most likely leave anything to him that caused his expression to change such that her air felt clogged in her chest and her heart stumbled a beat or two.
The last thing she wanted was an unwelcome attraction to a man she hoped to only
know for a few days. The carriage swayed again, causing her to tip towards him, but she held on to the door for dear life. Three days, or perhaps a few more. She could keep her distance from him.

* * *

In his experience, women were chatty. They commented on scenery, fashion, the weather, or any other thing that crossed their minds. They were taught to be conversational, encouraged to engage a man in a polite exchange of pleasantries, if nothing else. Frau Rokiczana seemed disinclined to do any such thing. Her brother had been the one full of entertaining chatter. Casimir was like Henry in that way, too clever of mind not to entertain themselves in conversation with others. Casimir's sister, however, seemed closer in character to Hans' own taciturn nature. Oddly, that made him want to strike up a conversation with her. It would only be polite, would it not? But after some moments trying to come up with a topic, he realized that her aloof demeanor and his own reticence made any conversation unlikely. She seemed perfectly content to stare out her window at the passing scenery, carefully keeping to her side of the carriage. When he finally spoke, however, her reaction had signified an alert tension and after their short exchange she had pushed herself even closer to the door.

Hans knocked twice on the ceiling, the arranged signal to tell Erich to stop as planned. The village had a rather large inn, and the horses could be traded if they did not recover overnight.

"We're stopping?" her voice had taken on a different quality, a bit breathless.

"In a bit," he said. "It would be too dangerous to continue past nightfall."

She nodded and turned her attention back to the failing light outside. "Just three more days at this pace, yes?"

"Three or four to Calais," he agreed carefully. "Depending on weather, horseshoes, and other surprises. Then we need to cross the channel and make our way to London. All told it will be at least five or six days."

She nodded again and he heard her give a tiny sigh. "It would have been faster on horseback."

* * *

She would certainly say that Von Rosen and his man were solicitous of her needs. They hovered over her in the stable yard, escorted her through the inn, and ensured a bath had been ordered before leaving her alone in an admittedly spacious room. Her escort would be sleeping in the adjoining room, and his man would stay with the carriage. Although she wanted nothing more than to continue their journey, she couldn't insist that they risk the horses and themselves in the dark. Instead, she chose to luxuriate in the provided bath and curl up under the warm if rustic blankets. Were this to be her last adventure before marriage, she would try to enjoy it as best she could. Mama was undoubtedly worried, but Krystyna was sure she could talk some sense into Casimir and be home before the end of the year, even if her escort was traveling at a slower rate than she hoped. Hopefully if Mama sent men on her heels from the hints of her plans in the note she had left, they would be too far behind to catch up even at this speed.

Chapter Four

Soldiers, as a rule, were adept at sleeping whenever and wherever they could. At the moment sleep was eluding Hans. As a supposed newlywed he hadn't wanted to stay down in the tavern for long. However, that meant listening to Frau Rokiczana take her bath. He wrapped the pillow around his head in order to not intrude into her privacy in even this
unintentional way, but then he became concerned that she could slip or need help, which in retrospect were terrible excuses, but it meant that he lay there in the dark listening to her humming and soft splashes for nigh on a quarter of an hour. Shortly after that, the pale candlelight shining under their adjoining door was
snuffed out, and he heard the creak of her climbing into her bed.

He had never thought very deeply about taking a wife. He always supposed he would at some later date, even if he hadn't really been looking at women as potential wives. But there was much to recommend about escorting a woman such as Frau Rokiczana into a room and being able to claim her. When they arrived, all of the patrons had looked on her much as Hans and his own staff had, as a lady. She had an air that demanded respect. If he were to begin a list of qualities he wanted in a wife, he would include that. Not that he had any deficit in commanding respect himself, but it had been intriguing
to stand behind her and experience the reflected glory. Perhaps that was similar to the feeling troops had experienced following him into battle.

He turned on his side. If that were true, however, she might not feel as confident as she seemed. Hans himself was a risk-taker at heart. He had never truly been as confident as everyone thought. His experience was that it didn't matter how he felt, it only mattered how he acted. Was that also true of Frau Rokiczana? It would be folly to expect her experiences to mirror his own, but the thought was hard to dismiss. Finally lulled by the silence from her room, he fell into his slumber.

* * *

Two more days passed in relative silence
. Krystyna found that if she asked Von Rosen about the terrain or towns, he was quite familiar
with the area, but he seemed no more interested in a prolonged conversation than she did. However, the atmosphere inside the carriage changed from one of tension to a more settled and comfortable quiet. She didn't cling to the door with the tenacity she had the first day, and actually became quite used to having his solid form next to her. When the carriage would hit a rut he put a steadying hand on her and the spot on her arm would stay warm for long minutes after he let her go. She was glad that he didn't feel the need to be charming. She had other things to occupy her mind rather than fending off flirtatious gentlemen.

That night he asked her to remain in the carriage as he secured their rooms, saying that the accommodations weren't as savory as those they had used thus far. She didn't want to confide to him that she had seen any number of unsavory things in her lifetime. Being treated as a pampered lady was yet another way of being sure she was delivered to her brother with all haste and minimal amorous advances.

There was a knock at the carriage do
or.
"It's Hans."

"Yes?"

He opened the door, holding aloft a lantern. His expression was chagrined. "We will be sharing a room this eve."

"They didn't have sufficient accommodations?"

He looked over his shoulder. When his gaze returned it was quite grave. "I don't trust the patrons. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

She nodded once and gathered her things. 

As soon as she alit from their carriage he thrust a bundle of cloth into her hands. "Put on this cloak. Cover up as well as you can with it."

She looked up at him. Tall, imposing Von Rosen had a tension to his jaw that bespoke sensing trouble. No one needed to prove to her that terrible things happened in the world. In her life she had seen things, heard things, that were horrifying. She huddled into the cloak, bending over and holding her arms at an angle that would indicate both girth and age. Taking his arm, she waddled beside him like someone's decrepit old aunt.

Von Rosen whispered down to her. "What are you doing?"

"Being unattractive," she replied, following up with a hacking cough and spit.

He chuckled. "You're brilliant at it."

Her only reply was an indelicate snort.

* * *

Hans closed and locked the door of their room while his charge took off her cloak. Her impromptu disguise had been stunning for the purposes of making her unremarkable and downright unattractive to the patrons of the inn. He leaned against the door, grinning. "You know they think I married you. Or what they now suspect to be a warty, fat little troll who was under that cloak."

Her eyes danced with mirth and she sat on the bed. "You can tell them that you married me for my money."

"Why would a Von Rosen need to marry for money?"

She tipped her head to the side as though considering. "Then perhaps for my very blue blood?"

Prepossessed, confident Krystyna Rokiczana had been attractive and admirable. Silly, teasing Krystyna Rokiczana was absolutely devastating. If he were any younger, any less honorable, any less trained to self-restraint, he would already be wooing her in an attempt to take her in this very bed. "We should get some sleep. Leaving early may avoid unpleasantness in the morning."

"True enough." She removed her shoes and rolled down her stockings as though his being in the room didn't bother her a whit. Soft, thin stockings. Fine wool? Silk? He couldn’t tell without staring. Or touching.

He sat on
the straight-backed chair
to remove his boots.

"Do you need help with those?"

"It's not the easiest thing, but I can manage."

"Don't be stubborn." She knelt in front of him and took hold of the boot he had started to work loose.

"I don't want you to get your dress dirty."

"Then do a better job of wiping your feet on the way in next time." She plucked the first boot off in a quarter the time it would have taken him to remove it himself. "I used to remove papa's boots. And of course Casimir's, when he was little." The second boot came off just as quickly. "See? All done. And I can dust myself off just fine."

Watching her dust the flecks of dirt off her bodice as she knelt before him sent a dart of longing through him that he had never experienced before. Not lust, precisely, but a wanting that had a sweeter edge to it.
The desire to kiss her made him ache.

She seemed to sense him watching her and looked up. "What?

He changed the direction of his thoughts by force of will. "Once you're in bed I can turn down the lantern."

"Then turn around a moment so that I can take off my dress. It's far too heavy to sleep in."

He bit back a groan and dutifully stood, turning his eyes to the wall.

"Are you sleeping in the bed, too?" she asked.

"No," he said, perhaps more sharply than he meant to. "In front of the door."

"That can't be comfortable."

"I've had worse."

"Do you want the pillow or a blanket?"

"Keep them. I'll be fine with the cloak." He heard the creak of rope supports. "You're in bed?"

"Yes."

"Good night then." He turned down the lantern before he could look at her in the bed. Before he could see her with her hair down, curled under the blankets to sleep. Yes, it would be a long, hard night, but not because he was sleeping on the floor.