on them.
And yet, someone had nearly killed Dan on the hill, and it was probably the second time he had been shot at since coming to Myerly. And mushrooms, which he had rejected at the last moment, might have poisoned the maid who’d seized on them belowstairs.
Might have, she reminded herself. But unease was spiraling upward into alarm, into fear. If Dan were to die…
With a gasp, she spun on her heels, rushed back up the stairs, and hurried down the passage once more to the door opposite Mrs. Stewart’s. She scratched at the wood, praying he was not yet asleep. Her heart thundered.
She heard no movement in the chamber beyond, except a faint snuffle under the door that was obviously Gun. She wondered if he was still downstairs. She was just about to turn away when the door opened abruptly, and Dan stood there in his mud-spattered pantaloons and shirt sleeves, hanging on to the scruff of Gun’s neck.
His eyes widened in clear astonishment before he glanced rapidly up the passage and dragged her inside by the arm. “What the devil are you doing here? If anyone sees you—”
“What if it was the mushrooms?” she interrupted, laying her candle down on the table by the door and mechanically fending off the delighted Gun. “What if they were poisoned by someone of your family who really resents you inheriting Myerly? Why didn’t you eat the mushrooms?”
He blinked and released her arm. “I don’t like mushrooms. Nasty slimy things.”
“Does your family know that?”
“My mother does. I don’t recall ever discussing it with anyone else. But why are you so concerned with the mushrooms?”
“Because there were some left. More than you didn’t eat them. Susan grabbed them as soon as they were taken back to the kitchen.”
He frowned down at her. “And you think someone at the table poisoned them? Just for me? My uncle Ames?”
Stung by the disbelief in his voice, she said, “Or your aunt, Mrs. Cornwell, or your cousin Colin. You cannot deny both are disgusted by your being named Myerly’s heir.”
Dan rubbed his stubbly jaw. “There’s disgust,” he said, “and there’s murdering your own blood.”
Embarrassment seeped into her bones. “I know. It’s a silly idea, and it would never have entered my head if you hadn’t been shot at this afternoon. It just seemed too much coincidence.”
“I doubt they’re related,” he said. “I think we should wait to hear what the doctor says. Will Susan recover?”
“He’s purging her. And I should go. I just thought I should warn you, even if it’s nothing, and I’m being silly.” She turned away, and a splash of color drew her gaze to the chest of drawers beside the door. On it, a watercolor landscape was propped up against the wall. “It’s mine,” she said in surprise.
“You gave it to me.”
She smiled. “I know. But I didn’t expect you to keep it. I thought you would screw it up into a toy for Gun.”
One startled eyebrow shot up. “You have a very odd idea of your talents. And your effect on people. Especially dressed in no more than a wispy piece of cotton and your hair…” As if he couldn’t help it, he reached up and lifted a thick curl of hair from her shoulder.
Her breath caught. Her gaze flew up to his. His lips curved, and his eyes grew warm in that strange, clouded way that set butterflies soaring in her stomach. Held by his gaze, she felt paralyzed, enchanted rather than frightened.
This was Dan, her easy-going friend, and yet in these moments, he seemed suddenly much more—an overwhelmingly physical, handsome man, the man she secretly loved, and yet a stranger with desire in his eyes and her hair in his long, sensitive fingers…
With a nervous breath of laughter, she reached up, snatching the tresses from his hand, and bundling them up with the rest of her hair as though to pin it up in a respectable manner, although, of course, she had no pins. Her arms fell back to her sides, but not before his hand had dropped lightly to her shoulder. One finger touched the skin of her neck above the shawl, spreading sweet, thrilling awareness, especially when it moved in a light, almost distracted caress.
“You came to warn me,” he murmured. “But you do understand you are now alone with a man of dubious reputation, in his bedchamber after dark?”
“It does seem to beat my previous mistakes to flinders,” she managed. It was hard to think when his