Read Online Northern Lights Trilogy by Lisa Tawn Bergren - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisa Tawn Bergren
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darkness before he heard any more stirring. It was larger than a rat, to be sure, and too far from the stalls to be an animal. The
Herald
definitely had a stowaway. Who? He was wary, to be sure, and Karl wondered if the stowaway had a light source. If not, his night might be spent observing an eye-draining dance of shadows.
He heard movement again, and his scalp tingled in anticipation. The stowaway was making his way somewhere when he ran into something heavy. At the sound of the soft cry and mumbled swear words, Karl’s eyes widened in surprise. It was a woman! Sure enough, she lit a candle and bent to take off her slipper and examine her wounded toes. With her back to him in the dim light, it was difficult to see who it was. But she was small and shapely, and Karl was mesmerized by the whole scene playing out before him.
Peder would have her hide. Two days out, and with no time to lose, they could not return her to Bergen. She slipped on her shoe and turned toward him. His breath caught. Tora! Make that two people who would have her hide, he mused.
Casually, he flicked the flint and spark met wick. As the flame caught and grew, so did the lamplight’s reach. Below him, Tora froze. Karl raised one eyebrow. “I don’t believe we have you on the manifest as part of our cargo, Miss Anders. Would you care to greet the captain and explain why you are down here among the chickens?” He rose and stepped down to her side.
Tora closed her mouth, lifted her chin, and stared into his eyes with a calm expression plastered on her face. Karl chuckled under his breath. She was a vixen, this one. She used her eyes with more power than any woman he had ever seen—and she was all of sixteen.
“I assume, since you have nothing better to do than sit there preying on innocent women, that I’d be better off with my brother-in-law?”
Her look was clear, and Karl found himself doing a double take. The shape and depth of her eyes so resembled Elsa’s that for a moment he fancied himself looking at her sister. He gave her a laugh devoid of cheer. “It is you that the world has to watch out for, Miss Anders,” he said, “for I’m afraid it is you who preys on the innocent.”
She shook her head as if dealing with a fool, picked up her skirts, made her way to the stairs, and climbed them. “Summon your sailors, first mate. I have no more time for idle banter with you. We might as well get this over with … unless …” she turned to him, her look beguiling. But she was no more than a child learning to use a woman’s body.
Disgusted, he stood, climbed the stairs past her, and banged on the doors above them. “You were brought up to be better than this,” he said.
The doors opened, and Tora whisked upward, ignoring the dumbfounded sailors’ gazes. She turned briefly to Karl as he took her arm and headed her toward Peder’s cabin. “Do not presume to lecture me again, Mr. Martensen. Although you are right on one count: I was born for better. And I shall have it in America.”
The few remaining passengers above deck stopped to gawk as Karl knocked loudly on Peder’s door. “Captain, I found our visitor.”
Peder opened the door with a grim expression on his face. Seeing Tora at Karl’s side, his expression grew decidedly more angry. Karl felt Tora shrink at his side, leaning slightly into him as if her strength waned. He resisted the feeling of protection rising in his chest. Were all men such saps that young women could twist their hearts with a small movement?
“Come in,” Peder ground out through clenched teeth.
They entered the cozy three-roomed cabin that was not as luxurious as the prosperous captain’s quarters many ships boasted, but stillattractive. The sitting room had paneled walls, gas lighting, bookshelves, two upholstered chairs, a love seat, and a potbellied stove. To the right was the attached dining room for six, and to the left, behind a closed door, the bedroom.
Karl pulled Tora into the sitting
Herald
definitely had a stowaway. Who? He was wary, to be sure, and Karl wondered if the stowaway had a light source. If not, his night might be spent observing an eye-draining dance of shadows.
He heard movement again, and his scalp tingled in anticipation. The stowaway was making his way somewhere when he ran into something heavy. At the sound of the soft cry and mumbled swear words, Karl’s eyes widened in surprise. It was a woman! Sure enough, she lit a candle and bent to take off her slipper and examine her wounded toes. With her back to him in the dim light, it was difficult to see who it was. But she was small and shapely, and Karl was mesmerized by the whole scene playing out before him.
Peder would have her hide. Two days out, and with no time to lose, they could not return her to Bergen. She slipped on her shoe and turned toward him. His breath caught. Tora! Make that two people who would have her hide, he mused.
Casually, he flicked the flint and spark met wick. As the flame caught and grew, so did the lamplight’s reach. Below him, Tora froze. Karl raised one eyebrow. “I don’t believe we have you on the manifest as part of our cargo, Miss Anders. Would you care to greet the captain and explain why you are down here among the chickens?” He rose and stepped down to her side.
Tora closed her mouth, lifted her chin, and stared into his eyes with a calm expression plastered on her face. Karl chuckled under his breath. She was a vixen, this one. She used her eyes with more power than any woman he had ever seen—and she was all of sixteen.
“I assume, since you have nothing better to do than sit there preying on innocent women, that I’d be better off with my brother-in-law?”
Her look was clear, and Karl found himself doing a double take. The shape and depth of her eyes so resembled Elsa’s that for a moment he fancied himself looking at her sister. He gave her a laugh devoid of cheer. “It is you that the world has to watch out for, Miss Anders,” he said, “for I’m afraid it is you who preys on the innocent.”
She shook her head as if dealing with a fool, picked up her skirts, made her way to the stairs, and climbed them. “Summon your sailors, first mate. I have no more time for idle banter with you. We might as well get this over with … unless …” she turned to him, her look beguiling. But she was no more than a child learning to use a woman’s body.
Disgusted, he stood, climbed the stairs past her, and banged on the doors above them. “You were brought up to be better than this,” he said.
The doors opened, and Tora whisked upward, ignoring the dumbfounded sailors’ gazes. She turned briefly to Karl as he took her arm and headed her toward Peder’s cabin. “Do not presume to lecture me again, Mr. Martensen. Although you are right on one count: I was born for better. And I shall have it in America.”
The few remaining passengers above deck stopped to gawk as Karl knocked loudly on Peder’s door. “Captain, I found our visitor.”
Peder opened the door with a grim expression on his face. Seeing Tora at Karl’s side, his expression grew decidedly more angry. Karl felt Tora shrink at his side, leaning slightly into him as if her strength waned. He resisted the feeling of protection rising in his chest. Were all men such saps that young women could twist their hearts with a small movement?
“Come in,” Peder ground out through clenched teeth.
They entered the cozy three-roomed cabin that was not as luxurious as the prosperous captain’s quarters many ships boasted, but stillattractive. The sitting room had paneled walls, gas lighting, bookshelves, two upholstered chairs, a love seat, and a potbellied stove. To the right was the attached dining room for six, and to the left, behind a closed door, the bedroom.
Karl pulled Tora into the sitting
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