Page 44 of Scandalous Desires on a Summer Morning
He overtook her position along the river’s bend, the ground slick beneath his horse’s hooves. As if it were not enough, the sky opened and rain poured down in torrents. Without a second thought, he flung himself from the saddle and plunged into the icy torrent. The shock of the cold hit him like a thousand knives. He surfaced with a gasp, his gaze wild until he saw her—a flash of pale blue gown, a hand reaching, a cry swallowed by the river.
“Maryann!”
He struck out toward her, fighting the pull of the current, every muscle screaming with effort. The river tore at him, but he didn’t stop—wouldn’t stop—not when she was slipping furtheraway. For one terrifying moment, he thought she would vanish beneath the surface. Then his hand closed around her wrist.
He dragged her to him, gasping, his other arm locking around her waist as the river battered them both toward the bend. “I’ve got you,” he rasped, his voice hoarse and fierce. “I’ve got you, Maryann. Hold on to me.”
Her fingers clutched desperately at his shoulders, nails biting through the wet fabric of his coat. “Why did you jump in?” she shouted over the roar of the river. “Now we’re both going to die!”
The words tore through the chaos, raw and terrified. The river heaved around them, a violent beast dragging them downstream. Sebastian met her eyes—those wide, panicked eyes he had dreamed of every night since she left—and despite the icy current pulling at them, a strange calm filled him.
“I could never wish for a better thing,” he shouted hoarsely, his voice breaking against the wind, “than dying with the woman I love!”
Her head jerked back, shock cutting through her fear. “What?”
“I love you,” he said, breath ragged, the admission spilling from him like a confession to the heavens. “And if this is the end, then so be it. It’s better to die with you than live a life without you in it.”
She let out a disbelieving laugh that trembled into a sob, the sound torn between despair and relief. The river slammed them into a swell, and she clung tighter, her arms locking around his shoulders.
“What should we do?” she cried, voice cracking.
He gritted his teeth, kicking hard, his muscles burning as the current fought to drag them under. “Hold on!”
She buried her face against his shoulder. The cold bit into their bones, the water roaring around them, relentless and merciless. Even as his arms grew heavier and the currentwrenched them farther downstream, Sebastian refused to let her go.
“Hold on!” he shouted, as he saw a heavy branch, half-submerged near the bend, its roots tangled against the bank. With a burst of strength he didn’t know he still possessed, he lunged toward it, catching it with one hand while the other held her tightly against him.
“Grab the branch!”
Maryann’s fingers fumbled in the water before finding it. Together they hauled themselves forward, gasping, coughing, fighting the torrent that wanted to drag them back. Inch by painful inch, they clawed their way toward the muddy shore until, with a final heave, Maryann tumbled onto the bank. Sebastian followed, collapsing beside her, his chest heaving as he drew in air like a drowning man reborn.
She was trembling violently, drenched and pale, her bonnet gone, her hair plastered to her face. Then, with a small sob, she flung herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest.
“We could have drowned,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Dear God, we could have drowned!”
“I know,” he said hoarsely, tightening his hold around her. “But we didn’t. We’re alive.”
She pulled back just enough to look up at him, tears streaking her cheeks, her lips trembling. And in that moment—mud-streaked, wild, utterly beautiful—he knew he could never let her go again. “Marry me,” he said roughly.
Her breath caught. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, his voice low, fierce, absolute. “Marry me.”
She stared at him as if she hadn’t understood, her lashes dripping with rain.
“I love you,” he said. “I think a part of me fell in love with you the first moment I saw you in the hallway at Hardwick Manor,eavesdropping.” His lips quirked faintly. “And when I followed you into the drawing room, I was… disappointed that your name wasn’t among the list of ladies my mother deemed suitable for me. You’ve haunted me since that day. Every hour, every breath. I know now that even if I live another sixty years, nothing will change that.”
He lifted a trembling hand, brushing a wet strand of hair from her face. “I love you, Maryann Winton. Everything about you—your courage, your kindness, your stubbornness, even your damnable pride. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, if you’ll permit it.”
Maryann stared up at him, her heart pounding, the sound of the river fading beneath the thrum of her pulse.
“Sebastian…” she whispered, her voice breaking on his name.
He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away a tear that mingled with the rain. “Will you be my lover, my friend, my wife… my viscountess?”
She gave a soft, broken laugh and then threw her arms around his neck. “Yes,” she whispered fiercely. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you, Sebastian. I love you so very much.”
He tugged her up his chest, so her face was right above his. “Say it again,” he rasped.
