Three Proposals and a Scandal: A Sons of Sin Novella (13 page)

“Tell us what happened, Marianne,” Sidonie said.

What could she say that wouldn’t make her sound a wanton? She licked dry lips and made herself respond. “I received a note asking me to go to the conservatory. When I got there, Lord Tranter proposed. I said no and he…he took it badly.”

Somehow admitting that he’d hit her seemed too humiliating. She’d worked out that Tranter had employed slaps not punches to avoid incriminating bruises. However raw her cheeks felt, his assault would have left little visible trace. Even at the height of violence, he’d been cool-headed enough to resist marking her. Another reminder how blind she’d been to his true nature.

“I credit you for trying to save your reputation, but we were caught, my dear,” Tranter said. “Time to pay the piper.”

Her hands clenched on the arms of the chair. How she wished she was a man and she could smash this lying worm to a bloody pulp. “I’d rather beg on the streets than take you.”

“You may have to.” The disappointment in her father’s eyes threatened to crush her. “I can see that if the fellow turned nasty, you feel some reluctance, but you’ll have to learn to live with that. A wedding is the only way to rescue the family name.”

“I won’t marry Lord Tranter,” she said stubbornly, wondering what on earth she could do if her father threw her out. A woman without a reputation had few choices. All respectable employment was closed to her, as was a decent marriage.

“Lady Marianne is welcome to stay at Ferney as long as she wishes,” Hillbrook said. “Sidonie and I would be honored to have her as our guest.”

“You don’t see that my daughter must restore the Seaton honor?” her father asked in rising umbrage. “In that case, you’re not a man I want to do business with.”

“Regrettable.” Lord Hillbrook’s tone indicated he didn’t care. “My offer of hospitality stands.”

“Don’t stick your nose in,” Tranter said nastily. “She’s marrying me, and that’s that.”

“I’d shoot myself first,” Marianne stated.

From near the door, Desborough cleared his throat. “Lord Baildon, I have made a commitment to your daughter. If she won’t have Tranter, my proposal of marriage stands.”

Shocked, Marianne stared at her staid suitor. She’d forgotten he was present. “My lord, that’s astonishingly generous.”

“Too generous,” her father said. “She’s made her bed with Tranter. However much I despise the way he went about winning her, it’s Tranter she’ll lie with.”

“Just so,” said Tranter, shifting toward her.

“If you come any nearer, I’ll scratch your eyes out—and this time I’ll succeed,” she said in a low bitter voice. “Nothing on this earth would make me accept you as my husband. You’re a bully and a liar and you won’t salvage your fortunes by tying my life to yours.”

“Ah,” Lord Hillbrook said.

The single syllable dropped into the room like a pebble into a pond. All eyes focused on him.

“I know you don’t like me.” Tranter sounded childish. “But I ruined Lady Marianne. I should make it right.”

“Perhaps.” Hillbrook paused. “The question is why stir up such an outcry. I’ll wager you bribed that maid who came shrieking to us about nasty doings in the conservatory. The timing was too apt. We have to suspect some agenda.”

Tranter shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but maintained his defiance. “I wanted Lord Baildon to hear of our engagement as soon as possible.”

“Yet expecting Lady Marianne’s father to appear, you went ahead with seducing her?”

“He didn’t seduce me,” Marianne protested, turning frantically to the Hillbrooks. She wished she could tell whether Elias believed her, but he didn’t look up from the fire.

“I know.” Sidonie placed a hand on her shoulder. “He wants it to look that way so you’re forced to accept him.”

Marianne sucked in a great relieved breath. The Hillbrooks had already fathomed Tranter’s wicked scheme.

“What rubbish,” Tranter blustered. “I’ve been dancing attendance on the chit for weeks. Everyone knows there’s a match in the offing.”

Lord Hillbrook bared his teeth. “At least that’s what your creditors thought. They delayed pursuing payment because they heard you were about to wed the Seaton heiress.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tranter said, looking shifty.

Hillbrook continued in that measured, condemning voice. “Then they learned that Lady Marianne was likely to marry Lord Desborough. It’s no accident you followed her down to Ferney. You were desperate to stake your claim in any way you could.”

“I’m a man in love.”

“You make me sick.” Marianne surged to her feet and turned on him. “You don’t love me. You love your vices.”

“This is all very well,” her father interjected. “But everyone in this house saw Tranter with his hands on her. He’s not the man I want for my daughter. He still has to marry her.”

“He’s a cheat and a thief and a slave to the gaming tables, Baildon. I wouldn’t entrust a torn handkerchief to him, let alone my flesh and blood,” Hillbrook said, his voice dripping contempt.

“Steady on,” Tranter said.

“My offer to marry Lady Marianne remains on the table,” Desborough said doggedly.

Marianne realized she’d always underestimated him. And because of that, he merited better than a tepid attachment. “My lord, I appreciate your gallantry, but my recklessness reflects badly on you. I can’t allow you to sacrifice your standing for chivalry’s sake.”

“Then what the devil’s to become of you, girl?” her father demanded. “Be damned if you’ll live under my roof, flaunting your folly.”

“Lord Baildon, I’ve offered your daughter a home while she considers her choices,” Hillbrook said as Marianne flinched from her father’s condemnation.

“We’d love to have you,” Sidonie said.

Her hosts’ generosity overwhelmed Marianne. Bravado told her to claim she could manage on her own, but the sad truth was that without her father’s support, she was penniless. “What about the scandal?”

To her surprise, Hillbrook laughed. “You call this little fuss a scandal? It hardly rates against the storms our family has weathered. Please say you’ll stay.”

“Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” Marianne said huskily. “I’ll be very glad to accept.”

“I commend the Hillbrooks for coming to your rescue, but that’s not your sole option,” a deep voice said from near the roaring fire.

Marianne straightened and surveyed Elias with all the courage she could muster. “I won’t marry Tranter and it’s not fair to marry Desborough.”

He stayed leaning with apparent ease against the mantel. He was in his shirtsleeves and his black hair was ruffled as if he’d run his hand through it. “You could marry me.”

Predictably Elias’s calm statement made Marianne’s father erupt. “Like hell she will. I told you in London that if she weds you, she won’t see a penny of my money. She’ll come to you in her petticoat.”

“And I told you in London that your daughter is treasure enough for me, my lord.”

“Elias…” she said, stunned. “Do you mean it?”

He stepped across and took her trembling hands in his. After Tranter’s violence, the tenderness in his touch squeezed her heart. “Of course I do. I’ve always thought you utterly magnificent.”

“What about when I resisted you?” she asked. As Sidonie stepped away to grant them some illusion of privacy, Marianne caught the satisfied glance she cast her husband.

The familiar smile lengthened Elias’s lips. “Then you were magnificent, but misguided.” His expression turned intent. “So will you take me, my love?”

Feeling unsteady, Marianne curled her fingers around Elias’s. She stared into his face, hoping she was right to read love in his unwavering black gaze. “My father won’t give me a farthing if I marry you. He’s the stubbornest man I know.”

“I don’t give a tinker’s damn about the money. Surely you understand that by now. Even if you don’t, when I marry you, you’ll have to believe I’m no fortune hunter.”

“I won’t change my mind,” her father said mulishly from the middle of the room.

Elias glanced at him. “I never wanted your money. I only ever wanted Marianne.”

Tranter lunged forward. “Get away from her.”

“No, you don’t.” Hillbrook grabbed him by the arm and hauled him back. “You’ve done enough damage. In fact, it’s high time you left.”

Tranter was no match for the big, burly man. “You’ve no right to interfere.”

“Of course I have,” Hillbrook said peacefully. “This is my house and you’re no longer welcome.”

Tranter was so pale that the long red scratches down his cheek stood out like fresh paint. “It’s raining bullets out there.”

“You seem to mistake me for someone who gives a rat’s arse for your welfare. You have two choices. Go back to London and face your creditors. Or you can take the rowing boat I’ll put at your disposal, cross the river, and make for France.”

“And if I choose neither?” His tone was sulky.

“You’ll be stuck here until the waters go down. I’ll have a message in London in a few hours, alerting the bailiffs that you’re skulking in Wiltshire.”

“You bloody mongrel!” Tranter tugged vainly to break free.

“Well?” Hillbrook asked, once it was clear the fight had drained out of the man.

“I’ll see you in hell.”

“Undoubtedly.”

Panting like a snared weasel, Tranter’s eyes darted around the room as if somewhere he might find an escape. His gaze, bright with hatred and fear, returned to Hillbrook. “Confound you, I’ll take the boat.”

“Wise decision.” Hillbrook shoved him down into a chair. “Now if you say a word or move a muscle, I’ll lock you in the cellars. It will be good practice for debtors’ prison.”

“Good for you, Jonas,” Sidonie said warmly.

“Marianne, you haven’t given me an answer,” Elias prompted.

“Not one penny, my girl,” her father growled.

“Surely you can’t want her to marry this jackanapes Tranter,” Hillbrook said in puzzlement. “The man’s a cad of the worst sort. Elias must be a better bet.”

“I won’t give her to a bloody Thorne. Tranter’s bad enough,” her father said, clinging to his prejudices to the last. He’d loathe feeling that events backed him into a corner.

Elias smiled, ignoring him. “My darling, will you be my wife?”

“Marianne, our offer of shelter stands,” Sidonie said urgently. “Nobody’s forcing you into a decision.”

“I know what I want,” she said without releasing Elias’s hands. “I want to marry Lord Wilmott.”

“Oh, my dear…” His voice was a whisper, but happiness blazed in his eyes as unmistakable as the fanfare of a hundred trumpets. He raised her hands to his lips and kissed them fervently.

Marianne fought the urge to cry, wondering how it was possible to feel so joyful and so wretched at the same time. Although even her aches faded, now that she’d so unconditionally thrown her lot in with Elias.

Sidonie beamed at them both. “I’m so pleased.”

“A quick wedding is the best way to scotch any rumors,” Hillbrook said, taking charge. “Elias, if you go in the boat with Tranter, you can find a mount in the village and go to London for a special license.”

“I won’t attend any wedding,” her father said. “As far as I’m concerned, my daughter is dead to me.”

Marianne made one last try. “Papa, please be happy for me.”

She realized immediately it was the wrong thing to say. His barely held temper exploded and his face turned so red, she feared that he might have an apoplexy. “I’ll see you hanged first. I had a good match set up for you and you throw yourself away on a Thorne. And create an almighty scandal before you do. You’re a disgrace to the Seaton family.”

Her father’s rejection bit deep. Her grip on Elias’s hand tightened. “I told you that Lord Tranter tricked me.”

“You went into that conservatory of your own free will. You’re no innocent dupe, Marianne. I feel like I’ve never known you. Losing Camden Rothermere has turned your mind.”

She straightened, startled at the accusation. “I didn’t love Cam, Papa.”

“What’s that got to do with it? You could have been a duchess and now you waste yourself on a bankrupt nothing like Wilmott. You played it too haughty with Sedgemoor and you acted the hussy with Tranter. Wilmott is welcome to you.”

“Hold your tongue,” Elias growled, placing his arm around Marianne’s trembling shoulders.

“Be buggered if I’ll take any insolence from you.”

“I’ll be as insolent as I like if you insult my intended bride.”

“Papa…” Marianne began, desperately wanting to make him understand, knowing that the words to persuade him didn’t exist. In making herself a public spectacle, she’d hurt him. He’d never forget that blow to his pride. His resentment would always outweigh his love for his daughter.

“You lost Sedgemoor and you won’t have Desborough. Well, I won’t have you.” He shot her a scathing glance and stumped out of the room, slamming the heavy door after him.

As the bang echoed, Elias turned her into his arms. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. He’ll come around.”

“No, he won’t,” she said in a broken voice against his shirt front. “You heard him. He’d rather throw my dowry in the North Sea than give it to me.”

“For the thousandth time, I don’t care about the money. I care that he’s your father and you’re his only child and he’s tossing you away like a worn-out shoe.”

Elias’s outrage on her behalf went some way to restoring her spirit. Her old life as the perfect daughter was over. A new life as Elias’s loving wife beckoned. Already it promised more interest and fulfillment than she’d ever known. She raised her head and realized that she and Elias were the focus of attention.

Desborough approached and bowed. “Lady Marianne, your father is unjust.”

She extended her hand and he raised it to his lips without kissing it. The courtly gesture was somehow exactly right.

“You don’t deserve to be mixed up in what’s sure to be the tattle of the town. I’m sorry, my lord.”

Surprisingly, he smiled. “If I survived Lady Sophie jilting me, I’m sure I’ll survive this.”

Marianne winced. “You humble me.”

Desborough cast a glance toward Elias and spoke with an extraordinary lack of pique, considering the circumstances. “This is the best outcome. I wish you every happiness.” He bowed again and left the room.