Page 6 of The Masked Baron
It was rare that anyone was brave enough to take the road through the Black Forest. And why would they? The rumors were nearly as ugly as the truth. He hadn’t meant to trail the Durantes all evening, but he’d been intrigued by the lady’s voice. It was unusual enough for a man to take this road, but a young lady never did so. Mr. Durante was a fool to bring his daughter through the forest.
Finally, Ellison turned his horse back around toward his home. His mind conjured up a mess of black curls waiting there. He could still hear the timbre of her voice passing through the trees, while she’d told her father a silly story about pirates. From his viewpoint, he would have pegged them as farmers, but her speech was refined; it was clear she had been educated. It was just as Mr. Durante and Ellison’s own sources had promised.
As he drew closer to his home, he thought once more about the girl with wild hair, porcelain skin, and rosebud lips. His frown deepened. For the first time, he questioned his brilliant plan. Beauty had always been a curse to him.
***
Braitwood Hall, Thornton Way, England
Andalin stared up at the manor house with its tall turrets and flying buttresses. They pierced through the darkness and seemed to comb the sky. The large front door pushed open before she and Papa could climb down from their wagon. A middle-aged man and woman, most likely the butler and the housekeeper, rushed toward them to help them inside.
“Mr. Durante?” the butler asked.
“Yes, and this is my daughter.”
“His lordship let us know you might come. Your rooms are ready for you.”
They dragged their feet up the dark staircase, following the housekeeper’s candlelight. She directed Andalin to her room first, but Andalin resisted.
“My father has been injured. I must help him.”
“Your father will sleep a few doors down, and I promise his wounds will be cleaned and wrapped immediately. Now rest, child.”
Andalin’s eyes blurred from fatigue, and she easily agreed, bidding her father good night. She did not even undress before she collapsed onto the feather-soft bed and fell into a deep sleep.
When she awoke the next morning, the sun was midway in the sky. The luxury of her guest room exceeded her imagination. Her four-poster bed was draped in a lavender canopy and matching quilt. There was even fresh lavender in a vase on her wash table. The Dark Rider lived like a king.
Andalin crawled out of bed, washed her face, and tried to push the wrinkles from her gown. It was no use. She needed a bath and a change of clothes. She spied her travel bag by the door, which seemed too providential since she had not brought it up with her the night before.
She had one other dress to her name now, and thankfully it was a sight cleaner. She brushed at her long, thick curls, trying desperately to bring some semblance of order. She tied them back with a ribbon from her bag but wished she had her cap. Papa always insisted she hide her hair because it caused the men at the store to stare at her. Whether for modesty or because it was often unruly, today she did not care to wonder.
Eager to see her father, she rushed from her room only to look in either direction, unsure which way to go. She reached forward to touch the ornately carved wood paneling along the wall. A woman she vaguely recognized from the night before exited a room a few doors down.
“Good day, Miss Durante,” the older woman greeted cheerfully. “I am Mrs. Lewis, the housekeeper. You met me last night, but you were awfully tired; I doubt you remember. Come. You must be starved!” Mrs. Lewis’s smile was wide against her thick cheeks. She was middle-aged, though her hair had kept most of its chestnut coloring, and she appeared to be a no-fuss, friendly woman.
Andalin remembered her manners only after a moment. “Thank you for your help last night. Might I check on my father?”
She smiled with understanding. “He’s downstairs. He’s already had his breakfast and is meeting with his lordship just now.”
“Oh,” Andalin began. “Where can I find them?”
Mrs. Lewis patted her hand. “We’d best feed you a bit and let the men alone to their business. He’ll be through soon enough.”
Andalin reluctantly agreed. “How is my father’s arm faring? And I saw him limping as well, so his leg might have been injured.”
“Not to worry, child. My husband knows the best medicinal herbs and tended to him last night. Your father’s forearm required some stitching, but the rest was mostly surface wounds. He’s up and moving around, which is comforting.”
Andalin sighed with relief. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Lewis patted her arm. “It’s fortunate his lordship discovered you before those wolves devoured you both.”
Andalin shuddered. Dare she mention the men who had supposedly accompanied the animals? “Yes, indeed.”
“Let’s not think on it again,” Mrs. Lewis said firmly. “What you need is a good breakfast. I can feel your bones right through your sleeve. You need fattening up!”
After a large breakfast in which Andalin felt obligated to eat enormous portions, she was more eager than ever to see her father. Mrs. Lewis left her alone at the table, assuring her that she would be back by the time Andalin’s plate was emptied. Andalin did not wait for her to return.
She quietly slipped from her chair and left the dining room. She weaved around the corridors until she found herself in the front foyer of the house. She was about to walk one direction when she heard voices. She followed the sound to a large oak door down a side passage. The words were unclear until she pressed her head to the door. She identified the tone of her papa’s voice. She smoothed her dress and gathered her courage to knock.
