“For the money.” Wasn’t money in the excuse of everyone in the room? They would believe their own motives.
Ramsey hedged. “I don’t know—”
“I do,” Anice cut in. “Ramsey, you promised we would be off for London. There’s nothing for us here. Nothing! This is Dunmore Harrell’s daughter. Can you trust her?”
His cousin knew him better than Lyssa did. “You’re right,” he agreed somewhat reluctantly. His gaze shifted to Lyssa. “Too bad, coz. I rather fancied you.”
Lyssa looked him right in the eye and said, “I wish you to hell.” She’d removed all pretense and let him see exactly how she felt about him.
Ramsey took a step back, stunned by her revealed anger. Mr. Fielder started laughing, the sound soft at first and then growing louder until he was practically bent over.
“I told you she was a fire eater,” he said to Ramsey. “You’d best let me do the deed tonight. We’ll get rid of both of them.”
“You can’t do it tonight,” Ramsey snapped. “Not until we are married. The claim must be legal.”
“Then I have weeks to live,” Lyssa challenged, “if you are going to post the banns.”
“No need to, cousin,” he returned. “It’s easier to marry in Scotland than England. Had no one told you that? We don’t even need a special license. But I’ll have a parson. I’ll have no one say I didn’t do this right.”
“What makes you think I’ll cooperate?”
“What makes you think the parson will care?” he answered. “Parson Dunn has had several—how shall we call them?—indiscretionsfor which he relies heavily on my regard. He’ll do whatever I tell him.”
“My father is a stubborn man,” Lyssa said. “He won’t trust you. You’ll never see any money.”
“Don’t underestimate me,” Ramsey shot back. “I can weave a good tale. We already have the beginning—Lyssa Harrell promises herself to me but is abducted by her Irish bodyguard, who turns out to have been her lover. It’s a bit lurid but you’ve already run off on one man, so why not another?”
“You heard I was betrothed?”
“Of course,” Ramsey said. “Our friend Fielder told us all.”
Yes, her stepmother had set her up very well.
“Are you ready to go in to supper?” Ramsey asked.
“I don’t dine with scum,” Lyssa replied succinctly, her manner as polite and pleasant as a debutante’s but speaking words her father would understand. She wasn’t her father’s daughter without a reason.
The insult rolled right off of Ramsey. He actually grinned at her. “How unfortunate. I suppose you shall marry hungry in the morning then. Birdy, you and Joseph escort Miss Harrell to her room. Stand guard and keep her safe. She is a very special guest of ours.”
Birdy nodded and reached for Lyssa’s arm. She pulled it away from him. “Don’t touch me. I don’t consort with murderers.”
Her words upset Birdy, who took a step back and looked askance at Ramsey.
Her cousin laughed. “Don’t be dramatic, Lyssa. Much of Scottish history is about one murderer or another. Fates are changed with the help of a knife blade…and you did want to see therealScotland.”
Lyssa turned on her heel and walked out of the room, not dignifying him with an answer. She might have tried going straight out the front door, but Birdy’s muscular companion blocked her path. His face was expressionless as he motioned her up the stairs. She noticed what she should have seen from the beginning: he had a cut over a black eye and his nose was swollen. Bully for Ian.
“Now don’t try anything,” Birdy warned her before locking her in her room. He was nervous, as he should be. “Joseph and I will have an eye on the door.”
Lyssa smiled her response. If he thought she was going to be a meek captive, he was wrong—especially since she still had the knapsack.
The bath had been removed and the window closed, but no one had noticed the leather bag by the door. The moment she was alone, she whisked the knapsack up and carried it to the desk by the window. The shadows outside were lengthening and there wasn’t even a stub of a candle to use for later.
Spreading the contents of the knapsack on the desk, she picked up Ian’s pistol and remembered him reloading it. She sat at the desk and hefted the gun’s weight her hand, wondering if she had the nerve to use it. She’d have one shot, no more, no less.
Out the window, she caught sight of Birdy walking toward the stable yard. Two beefy men met him and they entered the main barn. The stables then fell quiet. Some ducks nested close to the pond. A dog chased a cat. A horse here and there stuck its head out of the paddock…but all was quiet—and Lyssa would have bet her soul Ian was someplace in the stable.
She knew her guess was right when Birdy and one of the men left, leaving another to stand guard. The man leaned against the wall and appeared bored beyond reason.
