A Curious Beginning Read Online Free

I did not much care for the taste of him,” I added with a moue of displeasure.
    â€œMiss Veronica Speedwell,” he murmured in a voice thick with the accents of Mitteleuropa.
    â€œI am. I believe you have the advantage of me, sir,” I said.
    â€œForgive me for the informality of the introduction,” he said. He produced a card. “I am the Baron Maximilian von Stauffenbach.”
    The card was heavy in my fingers. It bespoke wealth and good taste, and I ran my thumb over the thickly engraved crest. He clicked his heels together and made a graceful bow.
    â€œI am sorry I cannot offer you a place to sit,” I told him as we made our way into the kitchen. “Nor a cup of tea. As you saw, I seem to have been intruded upon.”
    The baron’s eyes sharpened under his slender grey brows as he glanced about the wreckage of the room. “Has anything of importance been taken?”
    I moved to the shelf where a tiny tin sewing box shaped like a pig usually stood in pride of place. It had been dashed to the floor and rolled to the corner. I was not surprised the housebreaker had overlooked it. Aunt Lucy had firmly believed in hiding one’s money in plain sight, reasoning that most thieves were men and that a man would never think to look for money in so homely and domestic an article as a sewing box. I fetched it, crawling upon my hands and knees to do so. It customarily held all of the Harbottle wealth in the world, a few bank notes and some miscellaneous coins. I shook it and it rattled—a slightly less lively sound than it had given before I had paid the undertaker.
    â€œNo. That was the only thing of value and it seems to be untouched. Strange that he did not smash it open—perhaps he did not notice it in his haste. He has made a complete mess of the kitchen. I shall be ages clearing it up,” I said peevishly.
    The baron fell silent a moment, as if considering things carefully, then shook himself, muttering, “It is the only way.”
    â€œI beg your pardon, Baron?”
    â€œNothing, child,” he said kindly. “I do not wish to alarm you, my dear, but I am afraid I must speak plainly now. You might be in danger.”
    â€œDanger! I assure you I am not. There is nothing worth stealing here, and that thief will hardly come again now he has been chased out by a sword stick and your revolver,” I told him, but the baron’s concerns were not eased.
    He put a hand to my arm, and I was startled at the strength of the grip of those soft, elegant fingers. “I do not jest with you. I saw the notice in the newspaper about the death of your guardian, and I come to see you, only to find they have already found you. I am, almost, too late.”
    He bit off his words then, as if he had said more than he intended, but I seized upon his statement. “You said ‘they.’ You think this intruder has friends? Friends with malicious designs upon me?”
    He shook his head. “You saw the carriage. What sort of burglar rides in a private conveyance? No, I cannot explain, child. I can only tell you that you must leave this place. Now. You have chased him away, but he will return and he will not come alone.”
    â€œYou know him?”
    His fingers gripped my arm still more desperately. “No! I do not, but I can guess. And your very life may depend upon my being able to persuade you that I am not some crazy man and that I speak the truth. And yet how am I to persuade you? You must believe! I am the Baron von Stauffenbach,” he repeated helplessly, his voice thick with anguish. “Please, my dear child, if you will not accept my offer to take you to London, at least permit me to see you onto a train myself. You may ask to go anywhere in the world at my expense. But I must know that you are safe.”
    I had always followed the maxim that intuition should be one’s guide, and so it was in this case. The gentleman’s obvious