The Wild Baron (Baron 1)

“My sweet boy,” Charlotte said. “He has never disappointed me.” Charlotte looked dreamy, and a dreamy-looking Charlotte was an incredibly beautiful creature. “I shall never forget when his father discovered that Rohan was reading a book on planning a garden. Planning a garden, Susannah! Well, my dear boy quickly saw the error of his ways. He quickly realized that a man of his father’s reputation would be drawn and quartered before he would read a book on planning a garden. It was just a small lapse. Here one day and gone the next.

“No, my beautiful boy has never failed me. Indeed, he has been an inspiration, except for his lapse in marrying you when he was so very young, but that is forgivable, I suppose, when a young man is experiencing incredible throes of lust and the young lady isn’t mistress material, which, naturally, you weren’t.” Charlotte sighed. “Yes, a dear boy.”

She stopped speaking, at last. Susannah was staring at her. She was profoundly grateful that Rohan wasn’t in the room. What would he say to all his mama’s outpourings? She was certain that his mother, at this particular juncture, would have patted him on the head.

Susannah cleared her throat. “We are leaving tomorrow for Oxford. I wanted to ask if you would oversee Marianne’s care.”

“Really, my dear girl, I should be delighted. But Susannah, you must be gowned properly. Just look at you. Rohan told me you will be visiting Phillip Mercerault—if he is at Dinwitty Manor, of course, which he might not be, but his servants all know Rohan, so you will stay there regardless. Now, Phillip—there’s another boy with a maestro’s eye and a flawless technique, or so I’ve been told. Not as flawless a technique as Rohan’s, no doubt, but quite acceptable nonetheless.”

Susannah had been the re

cipient of a flawless technique, nothing more. Was Rohan, in his own way, like the great Edmund Kean performing Macbeth? Evidently so. It was a pity she didn’t realize she should have applauded him, after she’d managed to restore her wits. That such a thing was even possible still staggered her. She was still having great difficulty coming to grips with it. She had truly lost her head.

“Susannah?”

“Yes, ma’am? Oh, my gowns. Do you truly believe I look needy?”

“You look like a poor relation. You don’t want to shame Rohan. You are the Baroness Mountvale. You now have a responsibility. After all, a wife must always be dressed better than her husband’s mistresses. If she is not, then it redounds to the husband. Surely you do not want dear Rohan to be thought begrudging with his groats?”

“No, of course not,” Susannah said. “Oh, Charlotte, speaking of mistresses, Tinker said that Lily came to Rohan’s London house. She was worried because he hadn’t communicated with her.”

“Rightfully so,” Charlotte said, nodding. “Poor woman, she must have been frantic. Usually Rohan is excellent about telling his women when he will be gone and when he will return. I know his father told him that was a gentleman’s responsibility, and Rohan has never shirked his responsibilities. I assume he is even now sending a messenger to London to relieve her mind. And, naturally, others’ minds as well.”

“Naturally. You sound as if you know this Lily.”

“Certainly. She and Rohan have been together for nearly six years, which, I admit, is rather odd of him. I do believe Lily was the first mistress he mounted when he came to London. I also recall that he was still studying something—I have no idea what—at Oxford. That was odd as well, both his father and I agreed that it was. Why, in heaven’s name, would our dear boy want to forgo even a moment’s pleasures by continuing to study at Oxford?

“Yes, Lily and Rohan are fond of each other, as is appropriate. No one wants a mistress or a lover who is rapacious and uncaring.”

“No, I guess not,” Susannah said, wanting to cry. “Do you think she has interviewed all the mistresses that Rohan has collected since that time?”

“Now that is an interesting question,” Charlotte said thoughtfully as she poured herself a cup of tea with incredible grace. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Lily is a very intelligent woman. If a girl weren’t proper for Rohan, then Lily could steer him away from her. Yes, I shall have to ask him.” Suddenly, Charlotte paused her teacup’s ascent to her mouth. She said, her voice incredulous, her blond eyebrows raised a good inch, “Susannah, you aren’t jealous, are you?”

“Jealous about what, Mama?”

Charlotte looked up to see her beautiful boy standing in the doorway, looking very interested, his eyes on his wife. “Oh, dearest, Susannah and I were just speaking of Lily. Do you have Lily look over a girl before you take her under your protection?”

His eyes nearly crossed. He couldn’t believe what his mother had just said. Well, actually, yes, he could. He shot a quick look at Susannah. She looked cold and withdrawn, yet at the same time there was something else. He did believe it was anger radiating from her. Now this was interesting. It pleased him inordinately. He managed not to smile. “No,” he said, in all seriousness. “Lily has never done that.”

“Perhaps it is an idea you should consider,” Susannah said, her chin up, those beautiful eyes of hers so cold they could have frozen the tea in her cup. “Surely a man doesn’t want a mistress who is rapacious and uncaring.”

“No, that’s true,” Rohan said, stroking his chin with thoughtful fingers. “I believe that you, Mama, have used those exact words. Interesting. Perhaps I should give it some thought.” He turned to his mother. “What’s this about jealousy?”

“Oh, nothing, dearest,” she said with great disinterest, obviously protecting Susannah, which pleased him excessively. “Now, Rohan, attend me. Susannah must have some new gowns before you go to Dinwitty Manor. Actually, are you committed to leaving on the morrow?”

“I would like to,” he said, walking to the fireplace and leaning against the mantel, his arms crossed over his chest. “So would Susannah. It’s time we learned the truth about everything.”

“Very well,” Charlotte said, rising to shake out her skirts. “There is only one thing to do. I shall visit my closet. I will have Sabine alter at least four gowns for you. Goodness, you don’t have a maid, Susannah.”

“She can have one in the future, Mama. I’ll play her maid at Dinwitty Manor as well as on our trip there.”

A wistful look came into his mama’s eyes. She sighed softly, saying, “I’ll never forget how your dear father enjoyed unfastening the buttons down the back of my gowns. The smaller the buttons, the more he enjoyed himself. Your father was a darling wicked man, dearest.”

Rohan flushed red.

She shook herself. “Enough of that. I must get Sabine busy. Where is Marianne? I wish to see her before I begin my labors.” Charlotte wafted out of the drawing room, leaving the light scent of jasmine in the air and the echo of rustling silk.

Susannah said very low, “This is difficult to bear.”