Now what the devil as he supposed to do?
He felt damned betrayed. He’d thought of himself as her protector—he’d thought he’d meant something to her. He’d believed—
Ian broke off his thoughts and leaned back against the door. “You poor, stupid Irishman. You’re a lovesick fool.”
The moment he spoke the words aloud, he realized they were true. He had fallen in love with the most stubborn woman in the universe.
And his marching into her room moments ago? Had he truly sensed danger or was he acting out of jealousy?
He hadn’t liked Ramsey Davidson the moment he laid eyes on him. The man was too poised, too glib—and his heels were as round as Ian’s own. The man was done up. Anyone with half of a head’s sense could see that by the state of the house and grounds.
At first, Lyssa had been as uneasy as he—until she’d been presented with the portrait of her mother. Then her whole response to the situation had changed.
Ian pushed away from the door and walked to the center of the room. His was not as finely furnished as Lyssa’s was, but he wasn’t interested in rugs and drapes.
Pacing a path across the room, he focused his thoughts on the portrait and the response it had provoked in Lyssa, one he was certain she could not have anticipated. If so, it would be up to him to keep her safe, even if he must physically remove her from this place.
As to the rest, his love for her was doomed. Pirate Harrell would never let some Irishman—especially one who didn’t have two guineas to his name—marry his prized daughter. Furthermore, Lyssa had too much sense to saddle herself with a man like Ian.
A soft knock on the door disturbed him and his first thought was it had to be Lyssa. Perhaps she’d thought about what he’d said and had come to her senses, so without hesitation, he crossed to the door and threw it open.
Lyssa Harrell was not standing there.
Instead, there were three ugly Scottish brutes. Two stood no higher than his chest but the third was almost a head taller than himself.
And they weren’t here to welcome him to the estate. Two held cudgels which they slapped in the palm of their hands. The big one carried a sack.
“Mr. Campion?” one of them said.
Ian backed into his room. He wasn’t going anywhere peacefully, and the Scots followed him in, ready for a fight.
Damn, he hated being right.
Chapter Fourteen
OBSERVINGthe trouble the maid had preparing a bath, Lyssa decided that the occupants of Amleth Hall did not bathe often.
The maid had carried up two buckets of tepid water, but there had not been a bathing tub in the room. So she’d gone in search of a tub and returned with something that was little more than a washtub.
Lyssa sent the maid for more water so she could wash her hair. She filled the bath herself, relieved to have a task to keep her busy. Anything to take her mind off the scene with Ian.
She rationalized she was not doing anything other than what she’d intended from the very beginning. She couldn’t return, not after she’d just arrived. This deadline of her father’s was completely arbitrary. She didn’t want a betrothal ball; she didn’t want a betrothal.
And she would see Ian was paid anyway.
Undressing, she took the tarot card from its safe place in her belt and laid it on the top of the dresser drawers that had not been dusted very well. The poor card was the truly worse for wear, curved and warm from being tucked close to her body. Madame Linka may also be known as Bawdy House Betty, but every warning she’d issued had come to pass.
Lyssa sat in the tub of tepid water and felt the lowest of the low. She faced the truth—she did not like being at odds with Ian. He was the first person beyond her father whose opinion she respected.
The maid knocked on the door. This time the water was warmer, but not much. Lyssa soaped her hair and asked the maid to pour the fresh water over her head. She wished she could clean her conscience as easily.
She had to talk to Ian…and perhaps shewouldleave on the morrow—
Her thoughts broke off. The regard and respect of one rogue Irishman meant more to her than her own wishes, or even those of her family.
The revelation was stunning.
“Is something the matter, miss?” the maid asked.
