A Most Sinful Proposal (The Husband Hunters Club 2)

“Marissa? I did remember to tell Morris about her, Valentine. I’m sorry if you were put out. Is she still here or did you insult her and send her fleeing from the ogre, back to London?”

It was Valentine’s turn to feel guilty as he remembered exactly what he and Marissa had been doing. “She is still here,” he said, sitting down opposite his brother. “Why? Did you hope she’d be gone?”

George grinned. “Good God no! She’s a dear girl, don’t you think? I’m looking forward to seeing her.”

Valentine tried to read his face and failed. “What is she to you?” he asked bluntly. “I haven’t a clue what you’re up to and I wish you’d tell me.”

“I’m not up to anything,” George said, with his innocent look. “And Marissa and I have a great deal in common.”

“So she’s told me,” Valentine muttered.

“Well why ask me then?”

“You’ve never mentioned her before.”

George grinned. “Do you fancy her yourself, brother? I should warn you she has an aversion to anyone who dabbles in botanical matters. You’d have to give up your rose.”

“I heard it was by dabbling in such matters that you made Miss Rotherhild’s acquaintance, George. What were you doing attending botanical meetings? It seems very unlike you.”

George sighed. “I’ll only tell you if you promise not to tell her.”

“On my honor,” Valentine said dryly.

“I was passing and I happened to see her entering the building.” George’s expression took on a dreaminess that sharpened his brother’s interest. “She really is a goddess, isn’t she? So I followed her in and pretended to be one of the crowd. They were thrilled to have me, I can tell you, when they knew I was your brother!”

Thankfully Valentine didn’t have to answer, as Morris had reentered the room carrying a tray. George perked up at the sight of it. “Ah, Mrs. Beaumaris’s delicious fare. I tell you, I’m starving! Thank you, Morris. Valentine, I intend to kidnap Mrs. Beaumaris and take her back to L

ondon with me. You don’t realize how lucky you are.”

“And you’re changing the subject,” Valentine retorted, nodding his own thanks to Morris.

George shrugged, and began piling his plate with an assortment from the tray Morris had brought in. “I lost track of time. You know me, I’m easily distracted. There was a boxing match and then I met some friends and was invited to join a shooting party and before I knew it…”

Valentine leaned back in his chair, watching his brother eat. He wanted to berate him, play the stern elder brother, but he couldn’t drag up the necessary emotion. The truth was he was very fond of his younger brother, and there wasn’t any harm done, was there? In fact, George not being here had meant Valentine had Marissa all to himself, and despite all his doubts concerning her, he had enjoyed her company immensely. He’d felt more alive than he’d felt for a very long time.

So instead of telling George off he began to talk about the letter from Bonnie and their father’s army papers and the new direction the quest for the Crusader’s Rose was taking.

George listened intently. “Baron Von Hautt actually shot Jasper?” he said, shocked. “The man has quite clearly lost his mind.”

“I’ve had the servants keep a watch for him around Abbey Thorne, but so far no one has seen him again. But we need to take care, George. Whatever is driving Von Hautt is so strong he is willing to kill for it.”

“I think I will come with you to Magna Midcombe tomorrow,” George said. “Jasper will be of no use, even if he could travel, and Marissa should not come, either, if it’s dangerous.”

Valentine gave a short laugh.

“What?” George demanded, smiling inquiringly.

“If you think Marissa Rotherhild is going to be stopped by the threat of danger then you don’t know her at all.”

George’s gaze sharpened, searching his, but the next moment he was stretching and yawning, saying he’d better get to bed if he was going to be up bright and early in the morning. “Goodnight brother,” he said, as he left the room.

Valentine stayed where he was, casting a baleful eye over the crumbs and mess George had left behind him, so typical of his brother. But still he smiled as he took up the candelabra and followed George upstairs. He felt troubled and he knew the reason wasn’t George or Von Hautt, well not entirely. Marissa was the source of his inner turmoil and he still wasn’t certain how he was going to deal with it.

Chapter 12

Marissa opened one eye as the maid brought her tea and briskly threw back the curtains. She hadn’t slept well, tossing and turning, her body reacting to the bedcovering as if they were made of Hessian and not the finest linen, while the ache deep inside her reminded her that this time she’d had no release from her newly awakened desire. Was it possible to give herself that release by her own machinations? She thought it probably was but she didn’t make the attempt.

Because it wasn’t simply release she wanted, but release with Valentine. Valentine’s hands and lips on her body, and hers on him; Valentine wonderfully warm and naked, the passion between them rising and unstoppable.