Three Proposals and a Scandal: A Sons of Sin Novella by Anna Campbell Page A

Marianne in the music room a beginning or an end? He had no bloody idea.
    Marianne would probably sleep late. After she’d found her pleasure, he’d read the glorious peace in her eyes. In all his life, he’d never seen anything as beautiful as the woman he loved half-naked and finding joy at his hand.
    Her shy wonder had made that passionate abandon all the more poignant. Poignant and arousing. No doubt she’d slept like an angel in heaven. He’d remained awake, hard, needy—and stewing over the fact that she was no more likely to marry him than she’d ever been.
    For half an hour, the two men sat in silence. Jonas made his way through a pile of correspondence at his elbow. Elias stared moodily through the closed French doors to the tumbling rain and wondered whether he could bear to stay in England and watch Marianne become Lady Desborough.
    Eventually Elias realized that his host had stopped reading his mail and was regarding him with the familiar sardonic gleam in his eyes. That scarred face was often described as inscrutable, but Elias knew Jonas well enough these days to catch mockery—and to resent it.
    “What the deuce is your problem, Hillbrook?” he snarled.
    A derisive smile tilted Jonas’s mouth, but his response surprised Elias. “I’ve got to check the flood levels and make sure any livestock we shifted to higher ground is safe. Want to come with me?”
    Elias’s gaze returned to the sheeting rain outside. “It’s pouring cats and dogs.” He paused. “No, elephants and carthorses.”
    His host’s attention didn’t waver. “Yes.”
    “You expect me to brave the storm and mire and wind blowing straight down from the pole?”
    “Interested?”
    Elias glanced around the snug breakfast room with its blazing fire and dishes full of food he was yet to sample. Then he looked again at the quagmire outside. As if to emphasize the discomforts without, a gust of raindrops hit the glass so hard they sounded like stones.
    He surged to his feet. “By God, yes, I am.”
    * * *
    With a groan, Elias collapsed beside Jonas who sat against the barn wall. It didn’t matter that the dark, musty space was almost as wet as outside. At least it was out of the gale. He was dripping and covered in mud. Jonas wasn’t in much better state.
    Wordlessly, Jonas passed him a flask that turned out to be full of brandy. Elias took a swig, handed it back, and rested his head on the rough boards behind him. He was tired and soaked and freezing. Every muscle ached and he was covered in bruises. But at least hours of rescuing people and livestock had distracted him from his romantic woes.
    Jonas had proven an unexpectedly congenial companion. Concise with instructions, good humored, taciturn. Elias had particularly appreciated this last quality. A day of action and limited conversation was exactly what he’d needed.
    The thought that despite his physical discomfort, he felt better than he had in weeks made him laugh. Jonas turned to him in the gloom, one black eyebrow raised. “Nice to see you less blue-deviled than you were this morning. At breakfast you looked ready to slit your throat.”
    Startled, Elias met his friend’s regard. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”
    It was Jonas’s turn to laugh. “I’ve never seen a man more lovesick. Noticed? You damn near put me off my poached eggs.” He went on before Elias could object to the description. “If you want the Seaton chit, why don’t you bloody well offer for her?”
    Elias sighed and leaned his head against the wall once more. “I did. She won’t have me.”
    “Really?” Jonas sounded considering rather than shocked. “I’d have said she likes you. At Cam‘s Christmas party, she looked at you the way Consuela looks at a currant bun.”
    “That was before Lord Baildon convinced her I was a heartless fortune hunter.”
    “Ah.”
    “Yes, ah. He’s set on shackling her to Desborough.” He shifted slightly until he could see Jonas’s ruined face.