Page 12 of The Masked Baron
While making his way back, Ellis stumbled onto a small section of the forest he’d not noticed before, and adrenaline thrummed inside him. After all these years, the secret behind the Cadogen mystery could be his!
On the opposite side of the forest from his home, along the Scotland border, a small section of the ground sloped downward, creating an imperceptible but decent crevice. The area was covered with thick foliage; Ellis had passed by several times without seeing the hidden view. Crawling was an option but not one he fancied. It took a full day to chop back the overgrown, thorny branches to make passable room to walk. He hadn’t been able to drag himself away. Somehow he knew he was close. The air was tangible enough to make his skin tingle and the flesh of his back crawl. He had felt it before—many years before. After all this time of chasing down one dead end after another, he might finally be getting somewhere.
Time passed too quickly and without the results he wanted. His dwindling supplies and his responsibilities pulled him home.
Once there, he was eager to return to the same spot in the woods—knowing he had been close. He picked up a worn pamphlet, a near-permanent fixture on his desk, and carelessly tossed it aside. He had scoured the booklet from cover to cover, and he was sure there weren’t any clues he could have missed. Would he ever have all the pieces he needed? So much did not add up.
As much as he wanted to lose himself in his search again, one single conflicting desire kept his feet rooted to the floor. It was strange coming home to someone else living in his house. There was a feeling like the one he’d had in the woods, something tangible in the air, and yet, a much more peaceful sensation.
He sat at his desk and studied his hand-drawn map of the Black Forest. His eyes followed the road that crossed the south side to the spot where he had saved Annie and her father. He was fooling himself. There was more than one reason he wanted Annie to stay.
Her stories, her boldness, her wild, flowing hair—he appreciated all of those things. Strangely enough, he was most attracted to the girl’s loyalty to her father. Ellison felt the same strong tie to his family. He knew it was wrong to ask Annie to give up her father, but he also knew it was the only way.
He would continue with the plan to make her his ward and nothing else. It was all he could ask of her. He smiled ruefully; she hated him after all. She was no different from the others who couldn’t seem to look past his mask. It was better this way. His heart was not whole even if someone was willing to take it.
***
The next morning after breakfast Andalin retreated to the garden for her morning walk. Mrs. Lewis came to find her before she had wandered too far.
“Miss Durante, his lordship asked me to tell you that he will be away for a few days. While he is gone, Lord Cadogen wants you to start riding lessons. An accomplished young lady needs a good seat on a horse. Birks is a fine horseman and will help instruct you.”
Andalin found herself smiling for the first time in a month. She didn’t care what twisted motives were behind the Dark Rider’s generosity. She had always wanted to learn to ride. She could drive a wagon but had never been in a saddle before. Papa’s team was for work, not pleasure.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lewis, I will enjoy the opportunity immensely. Though, I do wonder why Lord Cadogen would feel the need to tell me he will be away when he has never done so before.”
Mrs. Lewis gave her a soft smile. “I am sure the master has his reasons. You’ll find a riding habit hanging with your other wardrobe things.”
Andalin frowned. The staff consistently remained secretive whenever Ellis was brought into the conversation. They either deliberately dropped the subject or changed it before any information ever passed. It had never bothered her before, but now she found it very vexing. She said goodbye to Mrs. Lewis and left directly to change before heading for the stables.
Her first lesson was extremely diverting. When Birks insisted an hour was sufficient, she dismounted, and her muscles revolted with tight awkwardness. Accomplishing something worthwhile for the first time since her arrival eased her discomfort.
After changing back into her day gown, Andalin went to the sitting room to meet with Mrs. Lewis. She had been progressing quickly through the housekeeper’s “lady lessons,” as Andalin liked to call them. She had learned how to comport herself in company, from her posture to where to put her hands while she sat to how to serve tea. It was like playacting and often felt rather silly, but she found herself taking to the challenge.
“How was your first riding lesson?” Mrs. Lewis asked in her usual cheerful voice.
“My entire body aches,” Andalin said.
“Your smile tells me any pain was worth the experience.”
Andalin agreed. “What will it be today?” she asked. She hoped it was something about the history of Braitwood. It was a tomb of secrets she was anxious to know about. Mrs. Lewis handed her a basket containing a rainbow of embroidery threads.
“Embroidery? I am more than adequate with a needle.”
“Excellent. I am glad to hear it. But, truly, besides passing on the supplies, the lesson is more about what a lady is expected to do in her free time. We mustn’t have idle hands. A lady tries to improve herself in whatever way she can.”
“Thank you for the thread. I have never had so much variety at my disposal before.” The threads Papa stocked were not for her personal use. Andalin pulled out a few earthy tones, immediately thinking of Ginger, the horse she had ridden that day.
“We all want you to feel happy here. Let me know if you think of anything else that might please you.” Mrs. Lewis left her alone with the basket on her lap.
“Happy?” Andalin said out loud to herself. Was a prisoner supposed to be happy? The riding lesson had lifted her spirits and now the gift of sewing supplies. But she wondered if she really could ever be happy without at least the occasional company of her father. She missed him fiercely.
***
After the second day’s riding lesson, Andalin decided to pick apples and make a pie to go with dinner. No one seemed interested in harvesting the fruit off the trees. With Ellis gone, she hoped she would get away with doing some additional productive tasks.
Pleased to be useful once more, she hummed all the way to the overgrown fruit trees. She found a discarded basket against a tree and began filling it with the low-hanging apples. A twig snapped behind her. Startled, she whipped around to ascertain the source, scratching her cheek on a tree branch as she did so. Her hand flew to her cheek as her eyes settled on a man standing on the edge of the Black Forest. He was perhaps thirty and seemed harmless enough as he crossed quickly toward her.
“Don’t run, miss,” the man said, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. “I just have a few questions for you, and I’ll be on my way.”
