A Most Sinful Proposal (The Husband Hunters Club 2)

It was George! With a cry of relief she spun around and hurried back to the head of the stairs. Relief made her careless and she came to a halt against the banisters, using it as a brake. The old wood cracked loudly under hands and she felt it begin to give way. She scrambled backward, almost falling, landing against the wall with a thud.

“Marissa, be careful.” George was striding toward her up the stairs. “The whole place is about to come down.”

He was soaked, his trousers splashed with mud and his hair slicked to his skull.

“Valentine was knocked unconscious,” she gabbled. “I saw Von Hautt at the window and he’s gone to find him.”

George frowne

d as he deciphered this. “Well, he won’t find him,” he reassured her. “I’ve just chased him across the fields until I lost him in the trees. Our friend the baron is gone…for now at least.”

“And it really was Von Hautt?” Marissa said.

“Oh yes. And Valentine’s not badly hurt?”

“He’s walking and talking.”

George grinned. “He’s got a hard head. I had to leave him when I took off after the baron, but I could hear him cursing after he hit his head on the brick, so I didn’t think it was too serious.”

Marissa decided if she’d been in George’s shoes she would never have left Valentine. She gave a shiver at the memory of seeing his body.

“We need to find somewhere warm,” George said, giving his jacket a sorrowful look. “When we find Valentine I think we should go back to the Fox and Hounds and ask our friendly landlord for some rooms and some hot baths.”

“Nonsense!”

They both looked up as Valentine came around the corner and onto the landing. “We’re going home to Abbey Thorne Manor,” he growled. “If Von Hautt is watching the house—and he must be if he followed us here—then I want him caught and locked up as soon as possible.”

“Valentine—” George began to protest.

“This is more important than you warming your toes in front of a good fire, George.”

Marissa noticed a new smear of dirt on his cheek but no new injuries, although the bump on his head was turning a colorful shade of purple.

“Not me,” George retorted. “I’m thinking of Marissa. She’s frozen through. Look at her.”

He did. His gaze narrowed, sweeping over her from head to toe, and back again. “She’s certainly soaked,” he said, “but then we all are. I thought this was what you liked, Marissa. The adventure, the chase.”

“I do, but—”

“Well then, you should be prepared for a little hardship.”

Marissa gave a violent shiver. Her bonnet slipped forward and the feather drooped over one eye. It was the final straw.

“I hate being wet,” she said, her teeth clenched to stop them from chattering. “I hate it above all things. I have stood in the rain from the Faro Isles to the Scilly Isles, and I’ve hated it every time. And you promised me I would not get wet on your expedition. You promised…” She dragged her bonnet from her head and flung it on the ground. It landed with a sodden squish. For a horrible moment she felt like she was going to burst into tears.

“I’m sorry,” Valentine said, biting his lip.

“You’d better not be laughing…”

“No, I-I’m not. We’ll go to the Fox and Hounds in Bentley Green.”

Marissa shook her head, frightened to speak in case her voice came out all wobbly.

“You don’t want to go to Bentley Green?” Valentine hazarded, coming closer.

“Yes,” she managed, “I do. But you need to see a doctor. Your head.”

“My head’s hard as a rock.”