Her Mad Baron Read Online Free PDF Page A

ready.”
    “Hold up your hand, dearie.” This one was a female. “That’s good. Don’t want you to try to fake it again.” The woman used the sing-song voice people employ with small children. “So. I heard you talking. One of your visitors?”
    “A woman. Sweet and soft.”
    The woman chuckled. “A nice change for you, eh, dear?”
    “You all were carrying on ’bout an hour ago. What was that?”
    In the dark, Florrie silently thanked the baron even as she held her breath.
    “Nothing,” the woman said, cheerily. “Just Mr. Grub’s fancy that we had visitors. Can’t have disturbances cause you a setback, can we?”
    “There weren’t any visitors then?”
    “Naw. Course not. All’s nice and quiet.”
    Florrie prayed the woman didn’t lie.
    More clinking , but in a distant room, followed by the sound of groaning pipes and the whoosh of water. After a very short time, the woman’s voice came again. “I’ll put your dinner here. And the door is open for your nice bath. I’ll give you a few minutes then. Mr. Grub is just outside so we don’t want to be too upset, dear. Let me just open my door and ...here you go, the key. Cheerio.”
    The door slammed, and Florrie heard the click and jangle of the door outside and as he unlocked his chain. Almost at once he opened the lid and held out his hand to help her out. “You’re still trapped with me,” he whispered. “Sometimes they clean this room while I’m there and lock me in the bath.”
    He reached behind the chest and pulled out her shoe that he’d pulled off her foot.
    “You said your mind wandered. But you asked about the uproar and you hid this,” she murmured as she took it from him.
    He moved close enough that she could feel the heat of him again. His mouth was next to her ear as he whispered, causing an interesting ticklish shiver down her back. “I have to protect you, can’t indulge the madness. It is easier to go insane alone.” He grinned then pointed at the bathroom. “It’s a combination bath and water closet. You go wash first. You should drink as well. But don’t turn on the bath’s taps.”
    “Why not?”
    “They will barge in to make sure I’m not trying to drown myself.” He started to raise his hand as if he would touch her, then let it drop. “You may be trapped here for a time.” He moved to the bed and leaned close to the bedpost studying it. Perhaps he was slightly crazed again, seeing monsters on the bedpost. Then she made out small markings on the wood, probably made with a fingernail.
    He was back and whispering in her ear. “I’ve been here a month. More, I suppose during the fever. I always make the mark when the dawn comes. Even at my most insane, when I carried on conversations with giant spiders, I made the marks, I think.”
    “Do you see strange visions still?” she asked.
    “Other than you at the moment? No. But then I haven’t eaten for hours. Reality is a touch and go affair for me. I’m dizzy, and time shifts oddly.” He put a hand on her lower back and pushed her to the bath. “But I will fight it now. Quietly, quickly,” he murmured.
    She silently closed the door and only took a second to strip and longer than that to admire the luxurious room, far more modern and well-appointed than the adjoining bed chamber where he was held prisoner. The lavatory and bathtub sharing a room—all the modern conveniences in one gleaming space that had once been a dressing room, she supposed.
    Stepping into the tub, she wished she might turn the taps and enjoy the opulent plumbing.
    The pale bar of soap smelled of him. And for a moment she felt the strange curl of desire. The warm water stung the chafed intimate part of her body, then soothed it.
    Hot water at a simple twist of a lever. Amazing.
    As she quickly washed, she thought about the plumbing, about the soap, about anything other than the fact that she was held prisoner. And almost worse, that she’d allowed a stranger to touch her so