The Wild Baron (Baron 1)
“Ro-han, you’re nearly as pretty as Charlotte.”
He pulled her fingers out of her mouth and bit one. “Men are not pretty. We are handsome. That is better than pretty.”
“Is Mama handsome or pretty?”
“Your mama is a girl. She has to be pretty. She has no choice.”
He turned his head at Susannah’s laugh. “Weren’t you invited to the tea party?”
“No, dearest, I did not invite her. Susannah is not cooperating with me. I have offered her the use of several of my gowns until we can go again to Eastbourne, but she refuses. She is proud, too proud. Therefore, she must suffer.”
“No, it isn’t that at all,” Rohan said. “She refuses because she knows she cannot fill out your gowns, Mama. She does not want to be humiliated. She is simply protecting herself.”
“I could fill it,” Marianne said.
“We will discuss that in another fifteen years,” Rohan said. “Now, Susannah, isn’t this true?”
Susannah sighed. “It was difficult, Rohan. We walked along the street in Eastbourne and all the men swooned when they saw your mother. I’m sure they took me for her maid.”
“That is true only because you refused to borrow one of my gowns,” Charlotte said with great reasonableness. “Well, not entirely. But nonetheless, don’t complain about it now. It is your own fault. Now, this is something you don’t know, Susannah. I have spoken of this to Rohan and have told him that he didn’t entirely understand his late aunt Mariam’s will. There was an initial sum of five hundred pounds to be given to George—and thus now to you. Then the quarterly allowances begin. Isn’t that splendid?”
Susannah wanted to cry. Five hundred pounds! Goodness, what she could do with such a sum! She could refurbish Mulberry House, she could have the roof replaced, and—
“Don’t even think it,” Rohan said as he set Marianne on her feet.
“But if it is my money, what can you possibly have to say about what I do with it? Indeed, sir, how could you possibly know what I was thinking?”
“Your face is a very clean window to your thoughts, Susannah. At least to me. You will not put a farthing into Mulberry House. You will not place a single sou in your father’s palm. You will use the money to refurbish yourself, not that derelict house or your equally derelict father. Also, Toby and Marianne are in need of clothes. Perhaps you could even buy Toby a pony. He needs to learn to ride.”
Susannah looked at her mother-in-law. She rose from her chair. “I am keeping my temper, ma’am, only because he is your son and I do not wish to discomfit you.”
“You are a daughter-in-law of great fortitude,” Charlotte said. “However, my dear, if you do not occasionally yell to remove blockages in your liver, you will doubtless become bilious, not a very savory condition.”
“Very well.” Susannah drew herself up and yelled, “How dare you try to give me orders when it is my five hundred pounds? You are a high-handed bas—well, baron!”
“What did you really wish to call me? I wonder. Are you certain about the will, Mother? She really gets five hundred pounds now? Are there no stipulations attached?”
Charlotte looked down at the magnificent emerald ring on the third finger of her left hand. “I am sorry, dearest, but there are no stipulations.”
He knew then, of course, that if she could have, she would have quickly added some, but it would have sounded like a sham, which it was. Oh, well. He gave Susannah a look of considerable dislike. “You will spend the money as I have instructed you to. I am the master of this household, the head of the Carrington family. You will obey me.”
“This is not your fiefdom and I am not a serf. Besides, now that your mother is here, that excuse of yours that you need a hostess no longer holds.”
“I don’t like having you look like a wench from the poorhouse. It will make my neighbors think I keep you on a stingy string. Everyone will talk about it behind their hands. I will be snubbed the next time I am in Mountvale village.”
“This gown was my mother’s.”
There was a bit of shaking in her voice and he should have been warned, but he had jumped on his horse and had dug in his heels to ride it. “Your mother never would have intended her daughter to look pathetic. I can even see your ankles. A lady doesn’t walk around with her ankles hanging out. What’s more, your stockings are bagging. It is distasteful, ma’am. Use the money to fix yourself.”
“I’m truly sorry, ma’am,” Susannah said, “but I can’t help myself.” She ran at Rohan and punched him as hard as she could in his belly.
He grunted, doubling over. “That was quite ably executed,” he said when he could speak again. “I am glad you didn’t hit me any lower. A man can’t speak as soon after a blow to his—” He saw Marianne looking at them with great green eyes. “Never mind. You will go to your room, Susannah. You may be certain that I will deal with you later.”
“Mama, why did you hit Rohan?”
Oh, dear. She’d been foolish. Before she could find an excuse, Rohan said, “I have been teaching her how to defend herself, Marianne. You heard me tell her that her hit was very good. It was. I will teach her more.” He was certain he heard Susannah growl.
“Before you go, Susannah,” Charlotte said calmly, as if nothing at all had occurred to overset anyone or anything, “my son was telling me about your troubles. Someone breaking into your house and then into Mountvale. It disturbs me. We must put our heads together and figure out what the man wanted. If we discover what the thief was after, then it only makes sense that we’ll also have the motive.”