The Wild Baron (Baron 1)

She stared at him, her memory righting itself. Marianne had said the man looked like Rohan, but none of them had taken her seriously. She could only shake her head. “It was you, not Lambie Lambert.”

“Oh, yes. Lambie saw the lot of you in Oxford and rode immediately to tell me. I sent him to kidnap you. But he couldn’t even manage to do that properly, the half-wit. What did you do, try to seduce him? Always weak of the flesh, was Lambie.”

“No, I tried to kill him, but failed. Rohan saved me.”

“Then you simpered and fainted and you trapped him. My proud, licentious brother, shackled to the likes of you. Now, enough of this. Give me the map and key.”

She had to know, she just had to. “There were small letters etched onto the golden key. We couldn’t make out what they were. Do you know?”

That startled him. He stared at her, then shoved her into a chair so hard that the chair nearly fell over backward. She managed to steady herself and right the chair, even as he said, “Don’t move, damn you. I won’t tell you anything.”

So Rohan had been right. Tibolt did know; he just wasn’t talking. She had to do something, but what? He was standing away from her now, not more than three feet between them, his gun pointed directly at her chest.

“You’re not worthy to know. No one is but I. All those old fools protecting the secret . . . but that isn’t your affair. Hurry and tell me. I suspect my brother will look for you soon, then he will worry. He will probably imagine that you are making love in one of the antechambers with a neighbor. Do it, damn you, or I will take Marianne.”

Susannah stared at that gun, at Tibolt, the vicar, her husband’s brother, who was aiming it at her. He was looking alternately at her and all around her bedchamber. Did he expect to see the map propped up on the mantel?

But she couldn’t tell him where they were, not yet. She swallowed her fear and said, “You told Rohan that George had only mentioned the map to you, that was all. You told Rohan that you knew nothing else. But George wasn’t involved, was he? It was you all along, you and those two dreadful men.”

Tibolt raised his hand slowly, so very slowly. She knew what was coming, but she wasn’t fast enough. His fist struck her cheek. She felt a sharp, digging pain, then the sting of blood. He stepped back from her, panting. “I cut you, but it isn’t deep. I doubt it will scar, more’s the pity.” He looked down at his hand, and she saw the heavy ring he was wearing. He hadn’t worn that when she and Rohan visited the vicarage. She would have remembered it. It looked to be solid silver, cut flat across the top. Tibolt was rubbing his fingers where the ring had cut him when he’d hit her. There was something on the ring, a figure etched into the silver. Susannah strained forward to see. At that moment, he happened to turn the ring toward her. It looked like a churchman wearing a bishop’s mitre. Were there words beneath the figure? She couldn’t tell. What did it mean?

He said slowly, rubbing his finger, “George wouldn’t tell me where he’d put the map. Before I had a chance to get it out of him, the little sod had the gall to get himself drowned.” He added, more to himself than to her, “A pity, but there was nothing any of us could do about it. Enough now, Susannah. Give me the map and the key.”

“Why won’t you tell me what the map is for?”

“You don’t deserve to know. I will tell you only that the prize is mine by moral right. I will be the future Archbishop of Canterbury, if that is what I choose to be. Actually, I will be the most powerful man in the world, if that is what I choose to be. I will rule wherever I wish to rule. No one will be able to go against me. I will have ultimate domination. Do you understand me? I will be as a god.” He was almost shouting now, his eyes wild and nearly black in the dim candlelight. He drew a deep breath, steadying himself. “Now, shut up and get it, Susannah, or I will strike you down and take Marianne. Everyone is in the ballroom; even Marianne’s nurse is sitting at the head of the stairs, singing with the musicians. I saw her there myself. Do as I bid you.”

Susannah knew she had to do something. Think. No, she couldn’t take the chance that he would hurt Marianne. There was no hope for it. She reached up to unfasten the necklace with its locket, only to realize that she was wearing the exquisite diamond and sapphire necklace Rohan had given her.

“Well?”

“I don’t know what Rohan did with it. He didn’t tell either Charlotte or me.”

“Very well. I shall fetch Marianne.” He strode toward her, and she knew he would strike her again.

She raised her hand to stop him. “The map and the key are behind two miniatures in a locket that George gave me. I always wear it, which is why that man Lambie Lambert could never find it. After we discovered the map and key in the locket, we decided to keep them there. It seemed safest.

“This evening Rohan gave me these jewels. He took off my locket and slipped it into his pocket. I swear to you, Tibolt, that is the truth. Just look at the necklace. You know I would only wear this for a very special occasion.”

Tibolt rolled his eyes, his anger building. His mouth tightened, his lips a thin line. Damnation, he believed her.

Susannah could picture that austere, vicious look when he exhorted his congregation. She held her breath as he said finally, “You’re too afraid to lie to me.” He cursed long and fluently. He was silent for a long time, that gun of his never wavering from her chest. Finally, he waved the gun at her and said, “Rip off a strip of your petticoat. No, I’m not going to kill you. It would gain me nothing. When I have the power I desire, perhaps I will then.” She ripped off a long strip.

He pulled her arms behind the chair and tied her wrists together, tight. Then he tied her ankles to the chair legs. For an instant his hand rested on her ankle and his fingers stroked over her stocking. She felt such fear that she knew she’d choke on it. Then he rose. He was breathing hard. He stuffed the rest of her petticoat in her mouth, ripped off more, and tied it firmly behind her head.

“There, that should hold you for a goodly time. You’re still bleeding a bit. It’s a pity that George had you first. And now you’ve had Rohan as well. Wouldn’t you like to try all three brothers? It could be a competition of sorts. Of course, you’d have to be the judge.”

If her mouth had been free, she would have spat on him. As it was, there was nothing she could do except gaze at him as if he were nothing more than dirt beneath her feet.

He was on the point of leaving when he turned very suddenly toward her dressing table. “My God, you little liar! I should have known, a woman always lies, always . . .”

He picked up the locket on its gold chain and swung it from his fingers. “So Rohan put it in his pocket, did he?”

He walked back to her, all the while swinging that gold chain. He struck her hard across her cheek, with the flat o

f his hand this time. She felt a narrow rivulet of blood course down her face. He ripped the sapphire and diamond necklace from her throat and stuffed it into his pocket.

Then he was gone, closing the door very quietly behind him. Susannah looked toward the two candles. They were burning low.