The Wild Baron (Baron 1)
Marianne stared at the eggs, then looked at him. Tears spilled out of those enormous eyes of hers and fell down her cheeks.
“I want Mama. I don’t want yellow eggs.”
“I wouldn’t either. It’s luncheon, after all. Here, take a bite of this nutty bun.” He took the first bite, then broke off a small piece and put it to her mouth. She ate it.
He felt as though the heavens had anointed him. He was a natural.
But the euphoria didn’t last long. Within ten minutes, Ro-han wanted to throw Marianne out the window. She was alternately crying, spitting food onto his waistcoat, mashing eggs with her fingers, and screaming.
“Sir, perhaps I could help.”
“You, Toby? You’re a brave lad, but this is a battle you can’t win. Neither of us can.” He sighed and walked out of the breakfast room with Marianne drap
ed over his shoulder. She was finally so exhausted from yelling and fighting that all she did now was slurp on her fingers.
Rohan took her to the estate room, sat down in his father’s cracked and worn chair, and rearranged the child in his arms. Soon he would rejoin the search.
Who had taken Susannah and why? It had to be the same man who had broken into Mountvale House the first night they’d arrived. It wasn’t Tibolt. He would never believe that.
The how of it was driving him mad. The thought of her in danger bowed him in on himself.
It was Charlotte who found him sleeping, with Marianne pressed against his chest.
She blinked at the unexpected sight.
“Dearest.”
He opened his eyes to see the Vision standing in front of him. He shook his head. It was his mother. “Please tell me you have found Susannah?”
“No, we’ve found nothing at all.”
Rohan cursed, but very softly so as not to risk awakening Marianne.
His mother thought him tender and altogether wonderful. Of course, his father had adored all his children, although Tibolt and George had severely disappointed him with their prudish and proper ways, but that had been later, once they were out of short coats. Such a pity he never knew that George had perhaps not disappointed him all that much.
As for Rohan, it hadn’t occurred to him that he sounded tender. He just knew he couldn’t bear Marianne screeching in his ear again. He rose. “I must go search for Susannah. She must be all right, Mother, she must.”
“You will find her,” Charlotte said, studying his beloved face. She laid her hand lightly on his shoulder. “You will find her.”
10
SUSANNAH MOANED, CLUTCHED HER STOMACH AND VOMITED into the moldy straw beside her. She vomited until there was nothing left in her belly. She fell back against the straw, panting with exertion.
“You’re awake. Finally.”
A man’s voice, beside her. She felt so weak it was difficult to turn her head to see him. But she did. He was wearing a cravat tied over his nose and mouth and an old felt hat low over his forehead.
“What do you want?” Her mouth felt parched, her tongue swollen. “Why did you take me from Mountvale? How did you even get in?”
The man laughed, a laugh muffled through the cravat. “Ah, now that’s a decent question, isn’t it?”
As the foul belly cramps eased, fear came surging in. Her hands were tied in front of her and her feet tied as well, with just a little give between them. She was wearing only her nightgown. Her hair fell long and tangled down her back. “May I have some water, please?”
He grunted. “Yes. But first let’s get you out of here. I can’t bear the stench.” He leaned down and picked her up. He carried her out of the small room and down a short corridor into another room. Everything smelled old and rotting. Boards hung swinging from their nails off walls. She saw no windows. Where was she?
He laid her down on more moldy straw, then rose, saying, “Don’t move or I’ll hurt you.”
She tested the ropes around her wrists. They weren’t terribly tight, but they wouldn’t give either. She began quickly to untie the knots at her ankles.