Page 140 of The Boxing Baroness

“I said that would only make—”

“Not that—my name.”

Marianne growled. “How can you jest about this?”

“I never jest about my name.”

“If the truth about my lineage were ever to see the light of day, you would be ruined.”

“With that letter gone, there is no proof, Marianne. Nobody would ever believe such a thing. Hell, I hardly believe it and I know it’s true. Now,” he said, lifting his body over hers and pushing her thighs wide. “I have better things to do than argue with my betrothed.”

Marianne stared helplessly as he settled between her legs and proceeded to wipe thoughts of any kind from her mind.

* * *

There would be only two caravans on the trip to Reims, as Marianne had given Barnabas’s caravan to Sonia.

Sin had no idea what, if anything, Marianne had said to Sonia. He just knew the other woman would not, thankfully, be joining them on their journey.

As they were loading up to leave, Marianne marched up to the caravan Sin shared with Guy and Elliot and tossed her valise into the wagon.

“I’m going with you,” she said, crossing her arms.

Guy, who’d been about to put his own bags back in the caravan, stared at Marianne, puzzled. “But—”

Cecile, who was leaning against the women’s caravan, sighed and said, “Pick up your bags, my lord.”

Guy obeyed without hesitation, and then looked disgruntled when he realized what he’d done. Cecile grabbed his arm and marched him toward the other caravan.

When Sin turned back to Marianne, her confident expression had turned pensive. “You don’t mind?”

“Mind?” he asked haughtily. “I was going to command you to stay with me.”

She laughed, as he’d hoped, and began to climb inside.

He laid a hand on her arm. “Wait—don’t we need to drive?”

“No. Elliot will drive one and Jo the other.”

“Hmm,” he murmured. “That’s convenient.”

Sin found out just how convenient over the next six days.

They made love all the way to Reims—a journey that sped by far too quickly—only seeing Cecile and Guy when they made camp at night and met for breakfast in the mornings.

Where Jo and Elliot stayed, neither of them knew.

“Do you think they are, er—”

“Lovers?” Sin suggested.

They were wrapped up in each other’s arms, naked and sweaty, so the fact that she was blushing seemed oddly charming.

It was their last night on the road together and there was a certain tension between them. He was glad to talk of somebody else rather than the unanswered questions between them.

“Jo doesn’t seem to notice he’s alive,” he said.

Marianne smirked. “No, but Elliot has certainly noticed her.”