The Reluctant Governess Read online

  They took the road that she had followed in the car with Conrad the previous day. It wound up into the mountains, but at least it was quite clear, and there was no sign of any more snow in the blue, cloudless arc above her. As they climbed higher she noticed details with more clarity than on the previous day. For one thing she had more time to absorb the scenery, and appreciate its beauty. High above towered the high peaks of the Alps, while on the lower slopes the brilliant whiteness of the snow was muted by the dark foliage of the pine forests. From time to time, the dogs seemed to sense the presence of some wild animal, and then Helga would go bounding away, barking excitedly, to return moments later covered with snow, which she sprayed liberally over Victoria as she shook herself. There was no doubt that they knew this journey well, and were used to making noisy skirmishes into the drifts. Victoria laughed at their antics, and gave them encouragement when they returned carrying various booty to strew at her feet. They brought her twigs and small branches, and Victoria lifted them and threw them high into the air for them, so that the hounds began racing each other to fetch the missiles back.

  Presently they came out above the slopes where she and Conrad had skied the previous afternoon, and Victoria saw in astonishment that the schloss was far away down the other end of the valley. She had been so intent on her game with the animals, she had forgotten to take the time factor into account.

  She glanced at her watch, and saw with dismay that it was well after four-thirty. Heavens, she had been walking for over an hour! It would be almost six by the time she got back.

  With a sharp whistle, she attracted the dogs’ attention, and Fritz came bounding back to her. But Helga stood in several inches of snow, some distance from the road, and seemed impervious to Victoria’s commands.

  Victoria sighed. ‘Helga!’ she called impatiently. ‘Come here at once. Come on! Good girl!’

  Helga merely barked at this, wagging her tail vigorously, poised ready to fetch the twig Victoria had in her hand. With an exclamation, Victoria flung the twig down at her feet, but Helga just barked once more and scratched rather disconsolately at the snow.

  ‘Come along, Helga!’ Victoria shouted loudly. ‘Heel, girl, heel!’

  Helga sat down at this, and Victoria heaved a sigh and looked down at Fritz beside her. ‘Well, Fritz,’ she said resignedly, ‘what shall we do? Go without her?’

  Fritz wagged his tail, but when Victoria began to walk away from him down the road, he whined rather doubtfully. Victoria halted. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We can’t stay here. She’ll follow us. Come on, Fritz.’

  Fritz hesitated, and then trotted obediently after her. But when they had gone a few hundred feet, he stopped again and looked back up the road, mournfully. Obviously he didn’t like leaving the other dog behind.

  Victoria halted, too, buttoning her coat tightly about her throat. It was very cold, and getting much colder. Thank goodness, the Baron had gone down to Hoffenstein and would not be back very early. She did not desire to encounter his anger once more. She looked back to where Helga was now standing, and whistled. But Helga refused to obey her signal, and Victoria wondered whether Fritz sensed that his counterpart could not survive alone out here. But she didn’t really have time to go back and persuade Helga to come with them. It was getting dark and a glance at her watch was not encouraging. And yet she could not go back without her. They were the Baron’s dogs after all, and he would not understand why she had disobeyed him and taken the beasts out in the first place. She sighed again. What a situation! She was some miles from the schloss by road, and if she hurried back and asked Gustav to come out with her to fetch Helga home, she might easily disappear into a snowdrift

  ‘Oh, Fritz,’ she said unhappily. ‘Whatever am I going to do?’

  Fritz sniffed her hand in a friendly fashion and then trotted a few yards back up the road, stopping and waiting for her to accompany him. Victoria frowned. ‘Oh, all right,’ she said resignedly. ‘I’ll just have to get her, I suppose.’

  Helga wagged her tail excitedly as she saw them coming back. Luckily the snow was illumination enough to see her in the encroaching gloom and Victoria whistled encouragingly, hoping the dog would come to her with some piece of wood and enable her to grasp the heavy collar she wore. But Helga seemed unwilling to leave her position, and Victoria was forced to tread across the thick snow-covered surface of a slope to reach her.

  But even as she got near enough to grab her, Helga moved away, and Victoria gritted her teeth in annoyance. So this was what the Baron had meant by unpredictability! She had imagined he meant something entirely different. But it ought to have been obvious that neither of the dogs was at all vicious.

  ‘Helga,’ she tried persuasively. ‘Come here. Look!’ She produced a paper tissue from her pocket and waved it tantalisingly. ‘Come and see what I’ve got.’

  Helga barked, and inclined forward, sniffing suspiciously. Victoria smiled. ‘Come and see,’ she encouraged. ‘Look. What is it?’

  Helga took a step towards her, obviously interested, and Victoria lunged forward to grasp her collar. But the icy surface beneath the snow was more slippery than she had thought, and she lost her balance and with a gasp of dismay tumbled down the slope away from where Helga had been standing. She groped helplessly for something to prevent her headlong slide, but she gathered momentum as she went and she was incapable of doing anything except feel a terrified horror of falling over the edge of some unseen precipice. She saw the trees looming up ahead of her and desperately tried to twist her head round, but even so a trunk caught the side of her head as she turned, and she knew nothing more …

  When she opened her eyes again, her head was pounding sickeningly, and the world was a whirling mass of snow and pine forests. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious, but as realisation of her surroundings came to her, she tried to struggle into a sitting position. She was chilled to the bone, and her fingers felt quite numb, but she knew she could not have been unconscious very long or she might easily have died of frostbite.

  Her watch had stopped, damaged no doubt by her fall, but apart from a lump on her head that felt enormous, she seemed otherwise unharmed.

  Then she suddenly became aware that part of her was warmer than the rest, and as she struggled round a wet, cold nose was pushed against her cheek. ‘Fritz!’ she exclaimed, in astonishment. ‘Oh, Fritz!’

  The dog had been lying beside her, warming her body with its furry bulk. Victoria rolled over and hugged the beast. ‘Oh, Fritz,’ she said again, ‘wherever are we?’

  She managed to get unsteadily to her feet, stopping every now and then to allow her head to slow its pounding, and looked about her helplessly. She appeared to be at the foot of the ski-slope that she and Conrad had used the day before. The road was up above them, but there was no sign now of Helga. Victoria heaved a sigh and shook her head slowly. Whatever happened now she was going to be terribly late. The Baron was sure to find out that she had taken his dogs and possibly even lost one. The prospect of his anger was frightening in her weakened condition. It was one thing to stand up to him when she felt fit and well, but right now she felt dreadful.

  Slowly she and Fritz made their way back up the slope and eventually reached the road. Victoria sighed. After the struggle up the bank, walking downhill would be easy. With a hand on Fritz’s collar she set off, all thoughts of finding Helga abandoned.

  They had been walking for perhaps half an hour when Victoria heard the grating sound of chains on a car’s wheels. The sound was coming their way, the engine roaring powerfully up the road towards them. There was the sweep of headlights over the ridge ahead of them, and she drew Fritz automatically to the side in case whoever it was should be driving fast.

  The vehicle swept over the brow, illuminating their stretch of road brilliantly. Immediately there was the scream of brakes, and the car stopped abruptly, skidding only slightly on the frozen surface. The headlights were not dimmed and Victoria blinked painfully in their harsh gl
are. Fritz bounded joyfully towards the man who got swiftly out of the car, but Victoria felt too weary to care if it was her employer.

  However, Fritz only received the most perfunctory of greetings before being thrust aside and the man strode into the beam of his headlights and straight towards her. She could see now that it was indeed the Baron and although his face was in shadow she could sense his anger. He reached her quickly, grasping her shoulders in a grip like iron, and said thickly: ‘Mein Gott, Victoria, I have been half out of my mind! Where have you been?’

  Victoria swayed slightly and was glad of his supporting hands. ‘I fell—--’ she began unsteadily, but the Baron was not listening to her. Instead he lifted her bodily up into his arms and carried her across to the car, thrusting her inside and sliding in after her. In the light from outside the car she could see his face was drawn and his eyes glittered brilliantly.

  ‘You are frozen,’ he muttered fiercely, unbuttoning his thick sheepskin coat as he spoke.

  ‘I’ll be all right,’ she said weakly, thinking he intended taking off his coat and giving it to her. ‘Please—--’

  ‘Please what?’ he asked harshly, and almost before she realised his intention he put his arm round her, drawing her close against him, inside the warmth of his coat and jacket, against the soft satin of his cream shirt, so that the heat of his body burned into hers, enveloping her in delicious inertia. He put her arms round his waist, and then closed the coat about her with his other arm.

  It was difficult for Victoria to think coherently. The nearness of the Baron, the clean male smell about him, made it impossible for her to think about anything but him. The feel of his hard body against her cheek was at once comforting and disturbing, and she trembled slightly in his grasp. At once he forced her chin up to look into her face, and said: ‘You are still cold?’ in a queer, uneven tone.

  Victoria swallowed hard. ‘No,’ she murmured, unconsciously snuggling closer against him, for the moment uncaring that this man was just as unattainable and twice as dangerous as Meredith Hammond had been.

  The Baron’s fingers moved lingeringly over her chin and throat as he looked at her. ‘We thought you could be dead!’ he groaned huskily. ‘When Helga came back alone—--’

  ‘She came back?’ exclaimed Victoria shakily.

  ‘Of course. When I arrived back from Hoffenstein both Maria and Gustav were frantic with worry. Gustav had searched the immediate grounds thoroughly, but of course you were not there!’

  Victoria shivered, but not with cold. ‘I—I—I suppose I should apologise—--’ she whispered, supremely conscious of the rhythmic probing of his fingers around her ears.

  The Baron did not reply; his eyes were narrowed and moved over her face intently, noting the purplish swelling on her right temple, and the paleness of her cheeks. He seemed totally absorbed with the moment, and Victoria began to realise that the pressure of his body against hers was increasing as he held her closer.

  ‘Don’t apologise to me,’ he said passionately. ‘You’re alive and that’s all that matters—--’ and he bent his head and put his mouth to the bruised area above her right eye. His touch was light and Victoria knew he was controlling himself with his usual iron self-will.

  But she found she didn’t want him to control himself. Now that life and warmth and emotion was flooding her body she wanted more than featherlight kisses from him. Her whole body ached for much more. But what could she do? She should draw away now and he would drive her back to the schloss and that would be the end of it. He would excuse his momentary weakness as relief at finding her safe, and she would always wonder what it would have been like to arouse him into passion.

  With almost involuntary movements, she moved, sliding one hand up the hard strength of his chest to his face. She put the palm of her hand against his cheek, and immediately he would have drawn away.

  ‘Victoria!’ he snapped huskily. ‘I realise the events of the past hour have caused us to be emotionally distraught, but there are limits to even my endurance—--’

  ‘Are there, Herr Baron?’ she asked softly, rubbing her hand against his face.

  ‘Yes,’ he bit out harshly, ‘and stop calling me Herr Baron!’

  Then he grasped her hand and turned its palm to his mouth, his eyes surveying her with burning intensity. His lips were hard and warm, and Victoria’s lips parted as she looked at him. With an exclamation, he released her hand and putting a hand behind her head brought his mouth to hers. There was no gentleness in his kiss, only passionate demand, and Victoria closed her eyes, sliding her arm around his neck and pressing her body against his urgently.

  She had always known that there were depths of passion in him that he had never probed and which he was scarcely aware of. But right now he was aroused to a point where his basic inhibitions had been destroyed by the anxiety he had suffered not knowing whether she was dead or alive. The kisses he was bestowing on her willing mouth were hardening and lengthening, creating a delicious languor within Victoria that took the place of her earlier tension, and she knew she was now the one who was in danger …

  After all, he was very much a man, and he was experienced. There was no doubt that Sophie was his daughter, and whether his feelings for his wife had been anything more than a sexual relationship was immaterial.

  His wife …

  Victoria gave a little gasp, and tore herself out of his arms, buttoning her coat with trembling fingers. Her hair which had been secure in its pleat had been loosened by her fall, and was now in complete disorder, and her mouth felt bruised from the pressure of his. She felt sick and dismayed. Was this the kind of creature she was, willing to allow a married man to make love to her? What must he be thinking of the abandoned way she had effected to arouse him?

  She cast a swift glance in his direction. He was staring bleakly through the windscreen, his face brooding, while he too fastened his coat. His ash-blond hair was ruffled where she had threaded her fingers through it, and it seemed incredible to imagine how violently passionate he had been a few moments ago. Now he was again the Baron von Reichstein, and she felt uncomfortably as though he was already regretting his temporary loss of control.

  ‘So now, fräulein,’ he said harshly, ‘you have discovered that I am little different from my ancestors. I am capable of behaving ruthlessly and irresponsibly!’ He turned on the car’s ignition. ‘I apologise, of course. My actions were the result of over-charged emotions. You have every reason to despise me.’

  Victoria digested this. Then she bit her lip until it bled. If he could be distant, so could she.

  ‘There is no need to apologise, Herr Baron,’ she said carefully. ‘I—I invited your—your attentions. However, nothing more need be said of it. Nowadays such—such an incident—is not regarded as anything more than promiscuity—--’

  ‘Genug!’ The Baron’s tone was violent. ‘I do not wish to hear about the so-called permissive society in which you have lived. I have apologised! If it is at all possible, I wish you would forget what happened completely!’

  Victoria’s face muscles felt stiff. ‘Yes, Herr Baron,’ she managed tautly, and without another word he opened the rear door, allowed Fritz to climb inside, and then turned the car expertly before driving swiftly down the road towards the schloss.

  As they entered the courtyard of the schloss, he glanced briefly at her. ‘We have a house guest,’ he informed her coldly. ‘A friend Sophie and I met in Hoffenstein. She has come for the weekend. Maria will attend to your forehead, if you will excuse me?’

  Victoria stared at him in amazement, trying desperately to gather her scattered composure. The Baron’s unexpected statement had made her supremely conscious of her own dishevelled state, and whoever this friend might be it seemed obvious that the Baron was telling her politely to go to the kitchen and tidy up before meeting her.

  She got out of the car rather shakily, and swayed momentarily as she closed her door. Immediately the Baron came round to her side of the car and caught h
er wrist in his hard fingers.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he exclaimed. ‘Do you wish me to contact Dr. Zimmerman?’

  Victoria compressed her lips, shaking her head silently. ‘I—I shall be all right. If—if you’ll excuse me?’ she replied unsteadily, and wrenching her wrist from his grasp she walked purposefully along the covered way to the kitchen door.

  ‘fräulein!’ he exclaimed angrily, but she did not heed him. Let him use the main entrance. If his house guest was waiting for him in the great hall, Victoria had no desire to meet her in this condition. Indeed, she doubted very much whether she could eat any dinner at all.

  Maria and Sophie were in the kitchen, talking closely together, and looked up in astonishment as Victoria came in, pale and ghostly, her hair in wild disarray.

  ‘Gut Gott!’ exclaimed the old woman. ‘Are you all right, fräulein?’

  Victoria removed her coat with difficulty, swaying on her trembling legs. ‘I just feel a little faint, that’s all,’ she confessed. ‘If I could just sit down for a while.’

  ‘Of course.’ Maria was warmly sympathetic, and helped the young governess across to the settle by the fire. After making sure she was comfortable, she went away to return with a bowl of warm water with which she proceeded to wash Victoria’s face.

  Victoria submitted weakly to her attentions, and Sophie bobbed about interestedly, watching the proceedings, her eyes curious and suspicious.

  ‘Papa was so mad when he found you were missing,’ she began, as soon as Maria took the bowl away. ‘Where were you?’

  Victoria rested her head back tiredly. ‘Helga wouldn’t come when I called her,’ she said. ‘I went to try and catch her and fell down the ski-slope at Glockenberg.’

  Sophie’s eyes widened. ‘Did Papa rescue you?’

  ‘No. I—I was already on my way home when I met your father.

  Sophie sniffed. ‘He’s been gone ages. What happened when he met you? Did you have a row?’ Her eyes sparkled with malicious enjoyment, and Victoria sighed. This morning Sophie had seemed approachable, but now suddenly she was behaving in her usual fashion.