The Wild Baron (Baron 1)

“I daresay that Susannah might enjoy the opera and—” His voice fell like a rock off a cliff. He just realized how he was speaking to her, his mother. He looked down at his toes, wiggling them beneath the blankets. He cleared his throat. “That is, naturally when I wish to indulge my appetites, I will see to it that she is properly entertained. Surely you know that I would do that well.”

The doubt fell from her beautiful face. It wasn’t yet seven o’clock in the morning, she wasn’t wearing any cosmetics, the sun was flooding through the east window, and she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his life. “That is what your dear father always did. Naturally, I did the same for your father whenever I wished to indulge myself. It is what makes a marriage successful. Both husband and wife must be attentive to each other’s needs and inclinations. I will never forget when dear Lord Westminster died in that hunting accident. I was devastated, really quite undone. Your dear father didn’t leave my side until well after the funeral.” Suddenly her expression became austere. “You know, of course, dearest, that you must breed an heir before Susannah will be free to indulge herself. You will explain this to her, will you not?”

“Mother, I don’t believe it will be effective. Susannah, I fear, is going to be an interfering wife.” He raised his hand quickly to hold her off. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to give Susannah instructions on the care and maintenance of a womanizer. But she was obviously appalled. “I shall bring her around, Mother, you will see. There is no need for you to say anything to her. I will deal with it. All right?”

“I suppose so, dearest. A man of your reputation should be able to bring any woman around to his way of thinking, wife or no wife.”

“Yes, you are right, of course. Now, I will get myself out of bed and make sure that Susannah hasn’t fled Mountvale House. Promise me you won’t speak to her.”

“Very well. How is Marianne’s bellyache?”

“She fell asleep in my arms downstairs in the library. She never realized there wasn’t a piano in sight. I suppose I shall have to teach her to dance a Scottish reel today. I think it was the reel. Yes, she would enjoy jumping and hopping about, sucking her fingers all the while Fitz pounded the tune on the piano.”

His mother arched a perfect eyebrow at the image of her son, a man of sterling reprobate character, dancing with a little girl.

Rohan, half an hour later, was whistling as he walked to Susannah’s bedchamber.

Sabine, his mother’s maid, was straightening the hair-brushes on Susannah’s dressing table. For the past three years, Sabine had been trying to get Rohan into her bed. He stopped the instant he saw her and very quietly began to back out the open door.

“My lord! Ah, you are here. To see madame? A waste, that one. No, it is a female of more interesting habits who would pleasure you, more—”

“Sabine, where is Lady Mountvale?”

“You mean your wife?”

How could he have possibly imagined that every servant within fifty miles wouldn’t know every detail? “Yes, my wife,” he said. “Where is she?”

“She was muttering to herself, my lord, about what, I’m not sure. She asked me where her valise was, but when I asked her why she wanted it, she wouldn’t tell me. No, she just looked—how you say it—ah, yes, she looked struck and left the room.”

Rohan paused in the doorway, gave Sabine a fat smile, and said, “I am married now, Sabine.”

She clasped her hands beneath her breasts, heaving them upward, and said, “So?”

He threw up his hands and left. Where the devil was she? “Ah, Toby? Where are you off to?”

“I’m trying to find Susannah, sir.”

“Tell you what, you try the nursery, and I’ll ask Fitz.”

Neither of them found h

er.

“Perhaps,” Fitz said, all new dignity now that Susannah was the mistress of Mountvale House, “her ladyship is with the Harker brothers learning more about racing cats. Ozzy told me the kitten is very nearly up to racing snuff for her ladyship.”

Her ladyship. If Fitz recognized Susannah as such, it was done. No one—not even the Earl of Northcliffe at his most imperious—would ever disagree with Fitz. It was amusing that Fitz hadn’t yet decided if racing cats were beneath a ladyship’s dignity.

Rohan said, “No, she is more likely planning ways to do away with me.”

“I might consider it an option as well, my lord, had you married me and kept me hidden for over four years.”

“Now that is an appalling thought.”

As was his habit, Rohan visited their villain each morning, to see if he was ready to talk. This morning the door was open, the footman Rory on guard.

Susannah was inside, standing over the man. He still looked very pale, and the bandage was still around his head.

Rohan said quietly, “Stand outside, Rory.” He went in quietly and closed the door behind him.