The Wild Baron (Baron 1)

“Tell me. Let me decide if it’s silly or not.”

There was no hope for it. Actually, she realized she wanted to tell him everything. She didn’t want to keep this to herself any longer. She said baldly, “The first break-in at Mulberry House was just before last Christmas. We were all out visiting neighbors. When we returned, we found papers scattered everywhere, furniture tipped over, several of my mother’s Dresden shepherdesses thrown to the floor and broken. Nothing seemed to be missing. Then, two months later, the same thing happened again. Only this time, Toby came home earlier than expected. He was struck over the head. And just three weeks ago there was another robbery.”

“Only nothing was taken.”

“No, but whoever did it made a horrible mess all three times. I guess that was another reason I didn’t argue so much about coming with you. I was terrified that one of us would be in the house if and when the robber came again. Toby wasn’t badly hurt, but it scared me to death.”

“You have no idea who the robber was?”

“No idea at all.”

“You have no idea what the robber was after?”

“No.”

“Well, since he returned to Mulberry House three times, he obviously didn’t find what he was looking for. It seems doubtful he found it the third time either. And you’re wondering if the man followed you here to Mountvale?”

She leaned against the wall next to the closed door of her bedchamber. They could see candlelight from beneath the door. “Do you think it’s possible?”

“Yes, of course. All we have to do is figure out what it is this man wants.”

“I’ve thought and thought. We have so little, nothing of any interest to anyone. No, I have no idea at all.”

“Perhaps you could have given me a bit of warning?”

His voice was low and gentle, but she wasn’t fooled. She saw the pounding of the pulse in his neck. He was very angry. “I’m sorry. I honestly believed that no one saw us leave. I thought everything would change when we left Mulberry House and came with you. I never wanted to place you in danger. Oh, God, Marianne could have fallen off that ledge.”

“Stop it. Marianne is fine. You can hear her sucking her fingers. Very well, now that I know what is happening, I can take steps. You are tired, Susannah. Why don’t you put yourself next to Marianne on the bed?” He gently touched his hand to Marianne’s soft hair. “Don’t worry. We’ll speak more about this tomorrow. I’m not blaming you, at least not too much. Good night, Susannah.”

“Good night, my lord.”

He grunted at that, turned on his heel, and took himself to his imposing bedchamber. He shaded the candle with his cupped hand to keep the light out of the boy’s eyes, the boy who was sleeping not three feet from him on a truckle bed. He looked too pale lying there, a shock of black hair falling over his forehead. A handsome boy certainly, but more important, Toby was a good lad, intelligent, and he deserved better than what his damned father would provide for him, which would be almost nothing, curse his blackmailing heart.

He shook his head at himself. Good God, was he now to play the role of the boy’s father? Rohan sighed. He was only twenty-five. A man of his reputation wasn’t supposed to even recognize the existence of children.

Life had become very complicated. Seducing a woman was surely boy’s play compared to this. He rather thought he would like to retire to Tibolt’s vicarage for a week or two, to relieve the strain on his nerves. Before he fell asleep he wondered why Toby hadn’t said anything about the breakins at Mulberry House. Because his sister had asked him not to. He had a lot to think about.

That night Toby snored.

All the servants were standing in a line in the entrance hall the following morning, obviously waiting for him.

He eyed them as he walked down the stairs. He said to his butler, in that easy way of his, “It looks to be a blowy day, Fitz.”

“Yes, my lord, it does. Perhaps my lord would like a cup of coffee whilst Ben here tells you what he found near to the stables? And whilst you eat your scrambled eggs, Mrs. Beete can tell you what she heard in the middle of the night? You can chew thoughtfully on your toast whilst Elsie tells you what she knows, that is, if she knows anything at all. Indeed, I do not believe that I will allow her in the breakfast parlor. I will pass along her story.”

Fitz’s hair was standing a bit on end, and that was a shock. The Carrington butler of twenty-five years, who had himself set Rohan on his first pony, didn’t look at all content. As for Mrs. Beete, the Carrington housekeeper for longer than twenty-five years, who had come to the house when his mother had married his father, she looked at him like a vicar would look at a sinner who refused to renounce his wicked ways. It was odd, though, for she looked at Tibolt just the same way, and the good Lord knew that everyone believed him to be holy.

Rohan nodded. “Very well. Mrs. Beete, when Mrs. Carrington comes down, please see that she has all she needs for the little girl.”

“Just imagine, my lord,” Mrs. Beete said in her lilting soft country accent, “Master George being secretly married all these years. Such a timid, scholarly boy he always was. It still fairly noodles my brain.”

“It noodles mine as well.”

Fitz said in a very quiet voice, “I would have doubted it, my lord, but the little lass is the image of Master George. So wonderful it is to have something of Master George live on. Actually she’s also the image of your mother and you as well, my lord.”

“Yes, I know. Now, as for Toby—”

“I’m here, sir.”