Of course, Sarah thought. She didn’t know why it had not occurred to her that he would insist upon riding after her once it was discovered that she’d departed without them.
“I think you broke my hand,” Lord Ramsgate whined.
“It’s not broken,” Sarah said testily. “I would have heard it snap.”
From over on the bed, Hugh let out a choke of laughter. Sarah shot him a scowl. This wasn’t funny. None of this was funny. And if he couldn’t see that, he was not the man she thought he was. Gallows humor only counted when one wasn’t at actual gallows.
Swiftly, she turned to her cousin. “Do you have a knife?”
Daniel’s eyes widened.
“For his bindings.”
“Oh.” Daniel reached into his boot and pulled out a small dagger. She took it with some surprise; she hadn’t really thought she’d meet with success.
“I acquired the habit of carrying a weapon in Italy,” Daniel said in a flat voice.
Sarah nodded. Of course he would have done. That was when Lord Ramsgate had had trained assassins hunting him down. “Don’t move,” she snapped at the marquess, and she stalked across the room to Hugh.
“I would recommend that you not move, either,” she said, and she walked around to the far side of the bed to saw through the rope that immobilized his left hand. She was about halfway through the fibers when she saw Lord Ramsgate begin to rise to his feet. “Eh eh eh!” she screeched, pointing the knife in his direction. “Back on the floor.”
He complied.
“You’re terrifying me,” Hugh murmured. But it sounded like a compliment.
“You could have been killed,” she hissed.
“No,” he told her, his eyes serious. “I’m the only one he would never touch, remember?”
Her lips parted, but whatever she was going to say evaporated as her mind began to spin.
“Sarah?” Hugh sounded concerned.
He wasn’t the only one, she realized. He wasn’t the only one.
The last bit of rope snapped, and Hugh pulled his arm to his side, groaning as he massaged his overstretched shoulder.
“You can do your ankles,” Sarah said, just barely remembering to turn the handle out as she gave him the knife. She marched back over to Lord Ramsgate. “Stand up,” she ordered.
“You just told me to sit down,” he drawled.
Her voice fell to a menacing growl. “You do not want to argue with me right now.”
“Sarah,” Hugh ventured.
“Quiet,” she snapped, not even bothering to turn around. Lord Ramsgate rose to his feet, and Sarah stepped forward until he was backed against the wall. “I want you to listen to me very closely, Lord Ramsgate, because I am only going to say this once. I will marry your son, and in return, you will swear to me that you will leave my cousin alone.”
Lord Ramsgate opened his mouth to speak, but Sarah was not yet done. “Furthermore,” she said before he could make more than a syllable of sound, “you will not attempt to contact me or any member of my family, and that includes Lord Hugh and any children we might have.”
“Now see here—”
“Do you want me to marry him?” Sarah cut in loudly.
Lord Ramsgate’s face went red with rage. “Who do you think—”
“Hugh?” she said, holding her hand behind her. “The knife?”
He must have freed his feet, because when he spoke, he was a lot closer than the bed. She turned to look; he was standing a few feet behind her. He said, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Sarah.”
He was probably right, blast him. She had no idea what devil had overtaken her, but she was so bloody angry right now that she had half a mind to strangle Lord Ramsgate with her bare hands.
“You wanted an heir?” Sarah growled at the marquess. “Fine. I’ll give you one or I’ll die trying.”
Hugh cleared his throat, presumably trying to remind her that this whole cockup of a day had started with his predicted demise.
“Not a word out of you, either,” she said furiously, swinging around with an irately pointed finger. He was standing just a few feet away, his cane lightly gripped in his hand. “I am sick of you and you and him”—she jerked her head toward Daniel, who was still sitting against the wall, clutching his rapidly blackening eye—“trying to solve things. You’re useless, the lot of you. It’s been over three years, and the only way you’ve managed to keep peace is by threatening to kill yourself.” She swung back around to face Hugh, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Which you will not do.”
Hugh stared at her until he realized he was supposed to speak. “I will not,” he said.
“Lady Sarah,” Lord Ramsgate said, “I must tell you—”
“Shut up,” she snapped. “I have been told, Lord Ramsgate, that you are desirous of an heir. Or should I say an heir beyond the two you already possess.”
The marquess gave a terse nod.
“And, in fact, you are so desirous of this heir that Lord Hugh was able to bargain for my cousin’s safety with his own life.”
“It was an unholy bargain,” Lord Ramsgate spat.
“In that we are in agreement,” Sarah said, “but I believe you have forgotten an important detail. If, indeed, all you care about is procreation, Lord Hugh’s life is worthless without mine.”
“Oh, so now you’re going to tell me that you are also going to threaten suicide.”
“Nothing of the sort,” Sarah said with a derisive snort. “But think for a moment, Lord Ramsgate. The only way you can get your precious grandchild is if your son and I remain in good health and happiness. And let me tell you, if you make me unhappy in any manner, I will bar him from my bed.”