Three Proposals and a Scandal: A Sons of Sin Novella by Anna Campbell Read Free Book Online Page B

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.”
    * * *
    Marianne retreated to her bedroom for the afternoon to finish her letters in privacy. She’d tried to write in the library, but the public rooms felt crowded with the confined huntsmen clumping around seeking distraction, not to mention the addition of five noisy young bloods.
    Or perhaps she felt hemmed in because Tranter clung to her skirts like a burr. He’d made his interest embarrassingly overt, hardening her vague tolerance into irritation. She’d shuddered every time she raised her eyes to find him staring adoringly at her as if the act of moving a pen across a sheet of paper was a miracle of nature.
    London’s ladies were mad for Lord Tranter and she should be flattered that he chose her. She wondered why she wasn’t. Oh, he mightn’t be the most scintillating company, but he was patently eligible—and twenty years younger than Desborough. Perhaps he made her ill at ease because from the start, she’d never penetrated beneath his flawless social polish. Whatever lurked in his heart, good or bad, remained a complete mystery.
    This scheme to maneuver himself into the Hillbrooks’ house party was the most definite action she’d ever seen him take. She was sure he meant to keep any other dog from stealing his bone.
    An old dog, Lord Desborough.
    Marianne wondered how Tranter would feel to know that on this particular patch, he had another rival. Although if Elias had any sense, he’d surely go back to London after this morning’s distressing encounter. She felt a twinge of worry—if the flooding was as bad as Sidonie said, he could run into trouble.
    Except she never in a thousand years thought he’d accept his dismissal. He’d come to Wiltshire to harry her and a few sharp words wouldn’t deter him.
    It would be so much easier to forget Elias if he didn’t keep appearing to remind her that while he mightn’t be the sensible choice, he was the only man who stirred her pulse. Reconciling herself to Desborough became nearly impossible when she suffered this penchant for a man she couldn’t trust.
    Since Tranter’s arrival, her father and Desborough hadn’t left her alone either. If ever she glanced beyond Tranter’s lovelorn stare, she met two frowns of disapproval.
    Her bedroom offered sanctuary. But she’d just settled at the pretty mahogany desk under the window when she heard a knock on the door.
    “Blast,” she muttered, setting her pen down so hard that ink splattered her letter to her old governess.
    On unsteady legs, she rose to open the door. When she saw Genevieve, Lady Harmsworth, she realized she was henwitted to expect