Three Proposals and a Scandal (Sons of Sin 4.50)

“Marianne, please forgive the chaos,” Sidonie said, bustling up. “The weather makes it impossible for our visitors to go home. The rain looks to worsen and the Salisbury road is flooded.”

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Marianne’s heart sank. A short visit from Tranter was annoying enough. His inclusion in the house party cast a pall on a day that already proved thoroughly depressing. “Have you got room?”

Sidonie made an airy gesture. “Oh, we’ll fit everybody in somewhere.”

“We’ve inconvenienced you, Lady Hillbrook,” Tranter said. “We should have timed our call better.”

Something in his tone made Marianne wonder if he’d timed his call perfectly for his own purposes. No doubt he’d heard gossip about Desborough’s intentions and he arrived to stake his claim. That isolated alpine convent became more appealing by the minute. She turned to Sidonie. “Can I help?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Tranter looking irritated that he no longer had her attention, no matter how wandering.

“Oh, would you? Bless you. I need someone to speak to Chef about the five extra guests and head off a tantrum.”

“Done.” Marianne headed for the kitchens, only remembering as she went downstairs that she never did find out what Tranter wanted to tell her.

* * *

Elias dropped full length onto his makeshift bed in Barstowe Hall and stared gloomily up at the ancient oak beams crossing the ceiling. Every attempt to break through Marianne’s reserve ended in frustration.

Never in his life had he had such trouble with a woman. Flirtation had always come easily to him, although unlike his brother Harry, he’d never been called a rake. But then, none of those ladies had engaged his heart and dalliance had been an enjoyable game.

A game was a million miles from his turbulent courtship of a lady determined to see him as a money-grubbing scoundrel. When he’d never been so sincere in his life.

What a cruel irony that he could flatter and persuade when his emotions weren’t involved, while in the presence of the woman he loved, he could hardly put two words together without causing offense. He cringed to recall Marianne’s contemptuous reaction to his declaration of love. He’d set his heart out before her and she’d kicked it.

Any sensible man would retire to lick his wounds. But no Thorne had ever been called sensible. When Sidonie Merrick had written, offering a bed in barely habitable Barstowe Hall, he’d leaped at the invitation like a trout after a juicy fly. Women confided in one another. Perhaps Marianne had confessed a penchant that she was too proud to own to his face.

His darling’s stricken reaction today put paid to that theory. She didn’t want him here.

Although what about those searing moments when she’d nearly kissed him?

Was that wishful thinking? He’d already paid the price for undue optimism when she’d so summarily rejected his offer of marriage. But for a few seconds, the heat between them had turned the freezing day tropical.

“My lord?”

Elias angled his head to see the fellow who acted as his servant in between making repairs on the house. It was sad to see the old building so neglected. The previous viscount had been close to ruin when he’d taken his own life. Having spent last night in this gloomy place, Elias saw why Jonas and Sidonie preferred Ferney.

“What is it, John?” He sat up and wearily ran his hands over his face. Sleep had proven elusive over the past months.

“A letter from Ferney.” The lanky fellow extended the sealed paper—Barstowe offered no frivolous touches like salvers for correspondence.

Elias glanced at the mullioned window. The ancient glass turned everything mottled and distorted, but there was no doubt that the rain came down in buckets. “Through this?”

“Yes, my lord.”

This must be important. Had Marianne written to say she’d changed her mind and that she was madly in love with him after all? Chance would be a fine thing. His beloved more likely ordered him back to London.

Sighing, he accepted the letter and tore it open. It wasn’t from Marianne and its contents made him smile. Sidonie extended an invitation to move into Ferney.

“Is the messenger waiting for an answer?”

“No, sir.”

Briefly Elias had toyed with the idea of retreating back to London, and after that, darkest Africa for all he cared. If Marianne meant to marry anyone, it was that ass Desborough. But Sidonie’s help sparked fresh hope. Surely a smart woman like Lady Hillbrook wouldn’t encourage him if his quest was doomed. “I’ll be moving to Ferney as soon as there’s a break in the weather.”

* * *