She raised her chin as if considering the matter, her mind working frantically, her worry for Ian. “Well now, Ramsey, if I marry you, does that mean Mr. Fielder is going to kill me afterward?”
“You are a brave one,” Ramsey said with admiration.
It was Anice who answered. “He’ll have to. Otherwise, you could have the marriage set aside.”
“What makes you think I would?” Lyssa said, putting surprise in her voice to hide the trembling. “Your brother is a handsome man and I would have Amleth Hall, which is what I came here for.”
“She’s right,” Ramsey said to his sister. “Why make matters messier?”
“Because I’ll be out a hundred pounds if she lives,” Mr. Fielder said, stepping between the cousins. “I’m being paid to see her done in.”
“Careful, Mr. Fielder,” Lyssa chided softly. “You are outnumbered here.” Birdy and the other man had come to the doorway, apparently to wait further orders. “They’ll be getting rid of you if you become too threatening.”
“Sod off,” Mr. Fielder said rudely and confronted his hosts, but Lyssa wasn’t done with him.
“How did you know I was coming here anyway?”
The henchman smirked. “It wasn’t hard to figure out, once we knew you were headed for Scotland. Finding the place was more difficult. This house is a bit out of the way.”
“Yes, and few people know about my family’s connection to it.”
“Her ladyship did,” Mr. Fielder said with satisfaction. “And all I had to do was use my wits. Neither you nor Campion is clever enough to outfox me.”
There it was. Lyssa had the proof she needed. She’d been right. Her stepmother had hired killers to chase her.
But instead of feeling triumph, she was disheartened. Her father loved his duchess. Now that Lyssa understood what love meant, she knew the betrayal would cut deep…and she felt culpable. She had not been as pleasant as she should have been to her stepmother. There had been times when she’d childishly, willfully gone out of her way to make her stepmother not only uncomfortable but despised. Nor had her response to their marriage been mature. But would the woman wish to see her dead?
“Yes, you are very clever, Mr. Fielder,” Lyssa agreed softly, mindful of the callous way he’d shot one of his own men, information she decided not to share with her cousins. Let them find out the hard way the danger of dealing with murderers.
Instead, she crossed to Ramsey and linked her arm with his. Purring into his ear in a manner she’d learned from the Widow Potter, she wondered, “Would you really have turned me over to Mr. Fielder, Ramsey?”
He drained his glass and shrugged. “I may do it yet. I have not made up my mind. You are pleasant on the eyes, cousin, but can I trust you?”
“Can I trust you?” she countered and rubbed her breast along his arm.
Ramsey’s gaze heated up with interest and he leaned close as if he thought to brush her ear with his lips.
Anice was not pleased. She pulled Ramsey aside and confronted Lyssa. “How much is your inheritance? What is your father truly worth?”
“I have it on good authority I’m worth my weight in gold,” Lyssa replied, echoing Ian’s assessment. “Is that enough for you?”
“More than enough,” Anice answered. “Ramsey, give her to Fielder. Our purpose is to go to London. We can’t take her with us. All she’d have to do is confess all to her father and you know he hates the Davidsons—”
“No, he doesn’t,” Lyssa interrupted.
“Oh, but he does,” Anice returned. “There was no love lost between Dunmore Harrell and Grandfather, especially after Grandfather had him horsewhipped.”
Lyssa had not heard this story—and knew this was a pain her father had kept to himself. With a dignity that would have made him proud, she said, “Horsewhipped for what? Daring to court my mother? To honor her with his love?”
“For daring to even look at her,” Anice returned disdainfully. “He was a peasant. What your mother saw in him is beyond anyone’s understanding.”
“Obviously she saw more than everyone else,” Lyssa flashed back, “for he made something of himself. Something fine and noble!”
“And for that reason, he will not hand money over to you, the Davidson heir,” Anice said with satisfaction to Ramsey. “Marry her, but kill her.”
Lyssa drew a deep breath. She should be frightened. Instead, she was angry. “And do you think my father would just turn over my fortune to you?” She shook her head. “He’s no fool. You need me. Without me, he can ignore your claim.”
“And why would you side with us against your father?” Ramsey asked, suspicious.
