Read Online Her Mad Baron by Kate Rothwell - Free Book Online

beyond the woods. The shoes were ruined, but she’d never use them again anyway.
    Duncan must have been watching from the inn window for he ran out with her cloak. He wrapped her in it to hide the strange climbing clothes and pulled her up to her bedchamber.
    “Where have you been?” he growled.
    “I’ll speak to you later, Duncan. I want to wash and change.” She pushed him, protesting, from the room.
    After she used the pitcher of tepid water and washstand in the room, and changed into a decent dress, she lay down on the bed and waited for Duncan, who returned and started with the questions at once.
    “Why didn’t you come out? I’ve been worried sick. Why didn’t you find a way to send word, at least?”
    She gave the ghost of a laugh. “Why didn’t you look for me?”
    He paced the room. “Don’t you remember our rules? I wasn’t to bang on the doors unless twenty-four hours had passed, we said. But I never in a million years expected we’d have to live with that. I tell you it’s horrible waiting and not knowing what to do.”
    “I was in there for less than twenty-four hours?” she said hollowly and closed her eyes. The bed swayed, but less violently.
    Duncan’s footsteps stopped. “Yes, and where exactly were you?”
    She shook her head. The motion proved a bad idea, and she gave a little moan.
    “Tell me,” he demanded. His pacing started up again.
    “Go away, Duncan, do. I need rest.”
    “You do look rotten, poor girl. All right. I’ll be back.”
    Florrie barely noticed when he left the room at last.
    She started awake again when Duncan slammed open the door. Judging by the light streaming in the window, she must have slept for hours.
    She expected more cross-examination, but instead he was bursting with news. “Do you know what? The old baron has died, and it’s not clear when. The new one has been ill, too.” He slammed the door shut. “Very strange circumstances, but no one seems to know what went on. I do wish we had time to poke around here and find out.”
    She winced at the bang of the door and wondered if the top of her head would fly off. “Heavens. You’re as good as a reporter. To think you found all this out when I was the one trapped in the baron’s manor.”
    “Yes, speaking of which, when will you tell me what happened to you there?”
    “I got stuck in a room.”
    “Why do you look like death warmed over?”
    “I was scared and had no food or drink.”
    “That’s all?”
    She ignored the question. Duncan wasn’t the most observant of men, but perhaps he could see the change in her. Would one be able to sense the loss of virginity in a near relation? Did her face look older or her skin glow with the change?
    “Oh no, I forgot to pick up my rope,” she said. She climbed out of the bed and found her wrap.
    Duncan eyed her censoriously. “And you don’t have the dagger, do you?”
    She shook her head. “Our first failed attempt, but it’s still the last time I’ll do that. Sorry, Duncan.”
    He grumbled under his breath then said, “You should eat before the food gets cold.”
    For the first time she noticed the table bore a tray of simple inn fare: stew, some slices of beef and a bowl of stewed peaches. Almost the same menu as her last horrible meal.
    He watched, so she lifted the teacup and sipped. A moment later she gulped down the entire cup of the best tea she’d ever tasted. It washed away the bitter taste of metal in her throat. Food turned out to be an excellent idea. She cut into the beef.
    “Dear me,” he said. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d spent the night indulging in drink.”
    “Nonsense.” She finished the rest of the stew and lay back down.
    “Are you going to tell me what happened to you?” he asked again.
    “Later. Just know I’m done with any more adventure.”
    He laughed. “You are a like a child on a see-saw. First you want thrilling exploits, then when you’re frightened, you never want to venture out