Conquering the sobs that hovered in her chest, she went on, "I had little money, so I could not search. But some of the captains of steamers, they helped me, asking questions up the river. Martine was seen only one time, across the river the day after she disappeared. And Rolf and Rosel have not been seen at all!"
"You are sure she has your children?"
"I know she does. She hated me. In her eyes they were Valter's children, never mine."
"Bah! She is probably crazy in the head. You are the mother. They are yours." She handed Siri a cloth. "Wipe your face now. I will help you make yourself beautiful again. And we will go to our men and enjoy their company tonight. The food here is very good."
"Mrs. Dewitt--"
"I am Soomey. We will be good friends. I know this."
"Soomey, then. You are being so kind. Will you help me find mina barn? The men, they will plan and plan and perhaps in a week, or two, they will do something. I cannot wait!" She heard how shrill her voice had become. Ashamed, she breathed deeply and calmed herself.
"You are Buffalo's woman. He is family. Of course I will help you."
"But I'm not--"
"You are. I see it in his face. Now, here. Pat your cheeks with this damp cloth. Soon you will look as if you have not shed a tear."
Buff didn't know what Soomey had said to Siri, but it had helped. When they came back, they were both smiling and acting like they were old friends. For the rest of the evening, she was quiet, but not unsociable. She listened to the conversation around the table with obvious interest. When Silas got to talking about Sweden, she'd asked some questions that showed her folks had told her damn little about where they came from.
Of course, they weren't really her folks, and she hadn't come from Sweden.
They lingered at the table. The men sipped cognac and the women had tea. When Silas finally pulled out his watch and checked the time, Buff was surprised to hear they'd been here for three hours.
"Tomorrow I will take Siri shopping," Soomey announced when they had left the dining room. "We will do woman things together while you men work to pay for our pleasures."
Siri gasped. "Oh, no--"
"Indeed, yes. This is what men are for. You and I will have much pleasure. I will call for you at ten tomorrow."
Well, hell! Soomey's up to something. I've seen that glint in her eyes before.
And every time, he or Silas had ended up in a pickle.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight, Siri?" Buff said, once they'd said goodnight to the Dewitts at the door to their suite on the second floor.
"Any woman would be beautiful in a gown like this," she said. "I still believe you should not have bought it for me--so expensive!"
He slipped his arm around her waist as they mounted the stairs to the third floor. "No gown makes a woman beautiful. Clothing only gilds the lily. And I'm glad I bought it for you, darlin'. You look real fine gilded."
He nuzzled her neck, feeling the desire that had simmered all evening come to a boil. "I sure hope you're not tired."
Her body seemed to mold itself to his. "Oh, no! I am not tired."
Still holding her close by his side, Buffalo opened the door to his room. "Good. Because I'm not either."
As soon as the door closed behind them, he took her mouth.
The tiny hooks at the back of her bodice resisted his best efforts, and he had to stop kissing her and turn her around. "Women's clothes are designed to be impossible to get out of easily," he complained as he undid the last one and tossed the garment aside. Her skirt was easier. It fastened with one large hook. The corset cover, a confection of lace and almost transparent embroidered fabric, confounded him, until he found its hidden placket. And more hooks and eyes, even tinier.
"Perhaps we should have asked the maid to come back. You seem to find this difficult."
Buff nipped her on the side of the neck. "If you'll hold still," he said, when she jumped, "I'll be done in no time." Her petticoat, with its double row of flounces over the bustle, was a pretty thing, with each flounce edged with lace. He'd seen many a bustle in Europe, but the one she wore took the cake. It looked more like a birdcage sitting on her behind than anything else. "I'm surprised you could sit with this on," he remarked, as he untied it and her hoops. "Or walk. Women!" He shook his head. "I don't understand why you gussy yourselves up like this. There's nothing so beautiful as the natural shape of a woman." Quickly he unhooked, untied, and unlaced, until she stood before him in nothing but a delicate silk chemise. It concealed little, only giving her lovely, pale skin a pinkish glow. "How's your shoulder? Can you manage with the sling a little longer?"
"Oh, yes," she breathed, as if she couldn't find her voice.
Buffalo put the wide ribbon that served as a sling over her head and helped her settle her right wrist in it. "Comfortable?"
She nodded. He turned her then, and slipped his hands around her ribs, slowly, enjoying the delicious sensation of silk over skin, until they cupped her breasts.
"Oh, God, Siri, this feels so right."
Her head fell back onto his shoulder. "I think it must be sinful," she said, her voice breaking on the last word, "because it feels good to me also."
He nipped along the curve where her lovely throat met her velvety shoulder. "Is that what they teach you at church?"
"Nej. That is what mina mor tells me. That anything that gives great pleasure is wrong, because we are supposed to suffer for our sins." She gasped again, when he caught her earlobe between his teeth. "Far always said I was trist...gloomy. He was a man of great appetite for pleasure."
"A fellow after my own heart." Unable to wait any longer, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, already turned back and waiting.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Refreshed by his night's activities, Jaeger strolled to the dock long before dawn on Wednesday. The woman's body would be found today, he had no doubt, but by then he would be far upriver and forgotten.
It was unfortunate he had not known of Lachlan's intention of traveling to Portland in time to take the same ship upriver, but in the end the delay would not matter. He had learned that Portland was a city where a man could lose himself easily. More so if he was skilled in wearing many faces.
Jaeger smiled. His own lack of distinguishing characteristics had determined his career. Except for his height, slightly above average, he was not merely inconspicuous, he was forgettable. "One, for The Dalles" he told the ticket seller.
"You'll have a layover in Portland," the man behind the counter said. "The next run to The Dalles is on Friday."
"That will be inconvenient," Jaeger said, "but perhaps I can find customers in Portland to make the delay worth my while." He lifted his valise, so the ticket-taker could see it. "I have samples with me, always." This morning he had decided to wear his Rabe persona until he reached Portland. It was not likely Lachlan would be at the dock when he debarked. After that it would be only a short time before he disappeared into the underworld that existed on every waterfront in the world.
He had not yet decided who would emerge. Adler, perhaps.
Yes, that would be fitting. An eagle, fierce and deadly, to make the kill. At last.
* * *
Siri lay in bed and watched Buffalo dress. She had little ambition to rise this morning. He had loved her with wild passion last night. Almost, it had seemed, with desperation, as if he was saying goodbye.
Perhaps he was. He will leave me soon, once he has fulfilled his promise. Perhaps tomorrow.
Nej! She would not think of that. Today she would go shopping with Soomey and pretend she had no cares, no fear of an unknown future.
"I still wish you'd stay here," Buffalo spoke to his reflection in the mirror as he fastened his collar. He grimaced. "I hate these things." He gave it a last twitch, and picked up a striped silk cravat. Holding it in one hand, he looked over his shoulder. "I don't know why I've got a bad feeling about you going off with Soomey. Maybe it's because every time I'
ve been around her, she's gotten me into trouble."
Siri propped her head on one hand and looked him over. "You are very elegant. A gentleman, truly."
"You keep looking at me like that, and I'll show you gentleman. Maybe I should send a note to Silas saying I've got another engagement. Would you like that? We could have breakfast sent up, test out the fancy bathtub, maybe." He came to the bed and sat on its edge. His arms caged her. "You look so damned tempting," he murmured as he bent to kiss her.
For just a moment, Siri responded, then she remembered what he had told her last night. "Nej, you must not. Buffalo! Stop kissing me!" She pushed him away. "Your uncle wants to speak with you this morning. He is a very busy man, so you must not be late for your appointment."
"You're a hard taskmistress, Siri. Besides, I know what Silas wants to talk to me about. He's been trying to get me to work for him for years."
"And you do not wish to?" She could not imagine not taking employment when it was offered. There had been such little choice for her when Valter died.
His mouth twisted into a grimace. "Oh, I'll do it, when I settle down."
She thought he seemed angry when he went back to the dresser to fix his cravat. Siri lay back and closed her eyes. As soon as he went out, she would get up and test the bathtub for herself. She had heard that the Occident Hotel in Astoria had a few private bathrooms, but she had never seen them. Så luxuös!
Lying immersed in rose-scented water, Siri wondered guiltily if she was putting her own pleasures before her children's welfare. If only she could be sure that Buffalo was really seeking a means of getting her into Martine's house to identify them.
His words echoed in her memory. "Damn it, Siri, you're a woman. And injured, to boot. In my family, we don't needlessly expose our women to danger, no matter how brave and strong they are. I'll get you into that house when I can be sure of doing it without getting you or your kids hurt. Now stop arguing with me, and let me get about finding out what I can."
He had almost convinced her. Except she could not imagine that two important men like Buffalo and his uncle would devote much of their time to her small concerns. They were probably spending the day on business, and would discuss how to get her children at dinner, or while they rode back to the hotel this evening.
She got out of the tub and found that she could not wrap the towel around herself with one arm. She blotted and dabbed until she stopped dripping, then rang for the maid. Much as she disliked having someone help her dress, she had no choice.
Soomey arrived about eleven. "I am late! It is very bad of me," the Chinese woman apologized, with a sweet smile. "But when you learn what I was doing, you will be pleased. Now, where do we go first?"
"Could we just drive around while I tell you everything? I am afraid Buffalo will return. If he finds us in the hotel, he will wonder if I am doing something he will not approve of."
"Of course. As would Boss. We will see the sights as we talk, and no one will overhear."
The carriage was as fine as any Siri had ever seen, with well padded leather seats and sliding closures on the wide windows. Even though it was raining, Soomey insisted they leave them open, so Siri could see everything. For an hour and more, as they drove around the city, Siri answered all of Soomey's many questions. Once or twice her voice broke, despite her efforts to contain her anxiety.
Soomey insisted on pointing out sights, because, she said, the men might ask what they had seen when they returned to the hotel. Siri dutifully admired new buildings and big houses, but soon found her forbearance stretched to the breaking point. Why should she care that the owner of a tall house surrounded by a landscaped yard owned the city's largest bawdyhouse? "Mrs. De...Soomey, I can waste no more time with driving about. I must..."
"We have seen almost enough," Soomey said. "Look. There is Simeon Reed's grand mansion. Is it not elegant?"
Siri obediently looked at the house, surrounded by an ornate iron fence. She had to admit it was more grand than any she had ever seen. As they turned the next corner, Soomey said, "Now we will go to meet my friends."
Soon they were close to the docks. The stores here were smaller. Another turn into a still narrower street, where many signs were written in Chinese. They pulled up before a narrow, windowless brick building, squeezed between two larger ones. "We eat now." She hopped nimbly down from the carriage and reached back inside to pick up a small valise Siri had not noticed.
In the front of the building was a small restaurant in which a dozen or so Chinese men were seated at a long table, eating. Soomey led Siri past and to a smaller table near the back wall. Seated there was a wizened Chinaman who smiled and greeted them. Siri had no idea what he said, but his bow was low and his smile welcoming.
"This is my friend, Zhao Pin Yue. He has no English." She spoke to the man in rapid-fire Chinese.
Siri smiled and extended her hand. "I am happy to meet you, Mr. Yue."
He clasped it, gave it one quick shake, and bowed again.
Soomey laughed. "You must call him Mr. Zhao. Chinese names are backwards to you."
Siri wasn't sure whether to apologize for her error or not. It had not seemed to upset Mr. Zhao, because he motioned them to sit. She had scarcely settled when a boy appeared, carrying a tray on which were several bowls, a teapot, and three cups. He poured tea for each of them. When he finished, Siri sipped at the delicately-scented tea and looked around the room while Soomey and Mr. Zhao spoke together. It was dim, lit only by a single lantern hanging from the ceiling. The walls were unfinished brick, hung with embroidered panels depicting birds and mountains. The musical sound of many voices speaking in Chinese was pleasing and she relaxed.
"Hah!" Soomey said, after a while. "He can help us. Today we will find your children."
Siri's mouth dropped open. "Today? How? Does he know where they are?"
"Buffalo said they were in the house of Martha Peterson. Pin Yue's brother is cook there. We will go there, pretending to be sellers of fine linens. Pin Yue believes the woman will let us into the house so we may show our wares."
"But how--"
"We will decide how when we have eaten. It is not good to make plans on an empty belly."
Siri hardly tasted the food, although a small part of her mind acknowledged it was delicious. Twice when she started to ask Soomey for more information, the other woman raised a finger and said, "Later." The meal seemed to go on forever. At last the bowls were cleared away, but not before Siri was almost sick with anticipation.
"You are a very tall woman. Are you strong?"
"Why yes, but why?"
"You should not carry a pack. It would be painful. Can you use shoulder pole?"
"I don't know." Well, why shouldn't she? It did not look all that difficult. "Yes, I'm sure I can."
"Good." Soomey turned to Mr. Zhao and spoke rapidly. After several exchanges, he nodded and left them.
"You may ask your questions now." Soomey grinned at her. "I see you have many sitting on your tongue."
"How did you know Mr. Zhao's brother worked for Martine? Why will he help us? Why do I need to carry a shoulder pole? I cannot go there. She will recognize me."
"No, she will not. You will be very large, very stupid, one-armed Chinaman, only fit for carrying heavy loads." Clapping her hands, she said, "Oh, we will fool this evil woman. We will walk right into her house and you will see if the children there are truly yours."
Mr. Zhao returned then. He spoke to Soomey, then motioned them toward the door in the back of the room.
Siri followed Soomey, wondering what Buffalo would say if he knew what his aunt was planning to do.
* * *
"And that's the whole story. Am I imagining it, or is someone trying to kill one or both of us?"
The office in which Buff and Silas sat was in an upper floor of the big warehouse, and it looked out over the river, where rain concealed the opposite bank, half a mile distant. The wind had picked up overnight, and the rattle of rigging could b
e heard even indoors. Buff decided he'd sure hate to be on the river today.
Silas took a while to fill his pipe, a habit that showed he was thinking. Buff remembered it well from years ago. "What I think," he said, when he'd got it lit, "is we need to look at what you're doing, or what Siri's doing that has somebody after you."
"Well, I thought maybe it had something to do with my helping her find her kids, but that's hardly worth doing murder over. Unless her mother-in-law's crazier than a loon."
"She probably is, else she'd not have taken the kids. But that's a different kind of crazy from killing." He frowned. "Something I read... Nope, it's gone."
"Everybody likes Siri, so it's not like somebody's holding a grudge, or anything. The only other thing I can figure," Buff said, "is me looking for Anders' sister. But I don't see how--"
"Of course! You said there's a younger brother, didn't you?" Silas leaned forward and laid the pipe aside. "I'll bet he'd not look kindly on someone who found his sister. Not if he's been counting on getting the whole kit and kaboodle."
"C'mon, Silas! There's enough in the Baron's estate to satisfy half a dozen heirs. I didn't take to Piers Thorssen--he's as unlike Anders and Siri as night and day--but to suppose he'd send somebody chasing around half the world just to protect his interest. Well, that's like something you'd see on the stage. One of those melodramas, where the villain wears a long, droopy moustache and the heroine faints at the drop of a hat."
With a chuckle, Silas said, "Where do you think those came from, lad? I don't doubt there's many an heiress out there who's been married or murdered for her fortune. Not every woman is as capable as the ones we know."
"I don't like it." Buff contemplated the tips of his boot toes propped on the corner of the desk. "That means somebody's followed me all the way from Aalborg. That's nearly two years ago!" He dropped his feet to the floor. "No! Absolutely not! There's got to be another answer."
The Lost Baroness Page 28
