“That’s where you come in.” Lady Stanton closed her fan with a snap. Small hard eyes much paler than the blue of her veins glittered like a matching pair of hard, colorless diamonds. “To help her win his hand and his pocketbook, by fair means or foul. After all, recluses cannot spend their wealth alone. A simple compromise should do the trick. Merely get them alone, then ‘accidentally’ stumble upon them, screaming for all the world to hear. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“What?” Evangeline stared openmouthed at the Stanton women, momentarily abandoning her intention to appear calm and biddable. “I’m to entrap an innocent bachelor into marriage with a complete stranger?”
“He’s no innocent,” Susan said darkly, her gaze finally meeting Evangeline’s. “Quite the opposite.”
Meaning what? Evangeline focused on the two women before her. Something wasn’t right. Something worse than saying “outside London” when one truly meant “a desolate stretch of uninhabited country.” Something worse than saying “join us for a delightful party” when one truly meant “force a total stranger to the altar.”
She shook her head, unable to believe the people she’d trusted to provide her shelter had abducted her in a mad scheme to win an unwilling husband. “Why not seek marriage in a more…traditional way?”
“Would that we were able.” Lady Stanton cast a quelling glance at her daughter. “Desperate measures must be taken now that the impertinent baggage is no longer welcome in London. Or by anyone who knows anyone who is welcome in London.”
“If I were, we wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere near Blackberry Manor.” Susan smiled, but the humor didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course, we might be caught dead anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Evangeline fought the frisson of cold slithering between her stays and her spine. “Has there been an accident?”
“Not at all.” Susan straightened her perfectly straight bonnet. “Lionkiller strikes on purpose.”
“Lioncroft.” Lady Stanton rapped Susan’s knee with the fan. “Don’t bait the beast with that horrid nickname, or I shan’t be surprised to see your body join the others.”
Evangeline froze, unable to tear her gaze from Lady Stanton’s hard, colorless eyes. “What others?”
One hand rubbing her knee, Susan glared at her mother. “Just his parents. Perhaps mine are next.”
Lady Stanton returned her attention to her window. “Your father won’t be attending the party.”
Susan’s eyes narrowed. “Pity.”
Evangeline’s gloved fingers dug into the squab. Such jests were never funny. “May I remind you,” she said quietly, “I’ve just lost my mother.”
“Five days ago.” With her thin nose held high, Lady Stanton flapped a gloved hand toward Evangeline’s face like a frantic bird unable to take flight. “If that’s long enough to leave your home, it’s long enough to ensure we return to ours with a betrothal contract.”
Five long, long days of unspeakable grief. Five equally long nights of sleepless terror. And one desperate attempt to escape with her life. Evangeline’s damp shift stuck to her skin as she rolled back her shoulders.
“No matter what you think, I am still in mourning. Nothing will change that.”
“Nobody’s asking otherwise.” Her lip curled at Evangeline’s still-shaking head. “You can mourn your mother and help Susan win Lioncroft at the same time. It’s not as if he’d prefer whiling away his time with you.”
Susan adjusted her hair ribbon. “Do you dance?”
No. But how humiliating to admit such a lack. Evangeline hesitated before replying, “When I’m not in mourning.”
The eerie cries of unseen animals rose in harmony with distant thunder.
“She doesn’t look like she’s in mourning,” Lady Stanton informed her daughter, sotto voce.
“That’s because she’s in my castoffs,” Susan murmured back. “And I’ve never mourned anything.”
“I’m grateful for your generosity.” Borrowed silk scratched against her skin as Evangeline shifted uncomfortably. “But I can’t condone tricking a man to the altar just to get his money, nor do I think locking ourselves up with a murderer for two weeks is in any of our best interests.”
“Increased coffers are always in one’s best interest,” Lady Stanton countered. “But if you feel otherwise, so be it.”
Evangeline’s eyes widened. “Truly?”
“Of course.” Lady Stanton’s crystal eyes turned calculating. “Have a delightful walk back home.”
A sudden burst of lightning lit up both the carriage and the countryside seconds before heavy drops of rain pelted the rattling windows.
Evangeline shivered as an icy breeze snaked through the cracks. “There’s nowhere to walk to. Not even an inn.”
“And you have no money,” Susan put in, casting a pointed gaze at Evangeline’s borrowed gown. “Which means you’re dead either way, so you