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But she had little choice but to press on. The sense of urgency to reach Blythe’s study was rapidly turning into a screaming panic. Her breath came in spurts as she started across the floor, bobbing politely to those she knew. But Theo didn’t stop. Couldn’t risk being waylaid.
What if Blythe decided to retreat to his study?
Taking a deep breath, Theo reminded herself that there was no reason for him to do so. His house was filled with guests. Lady Blythe was busy shooting scornful looks at any young lady who got too close to her son. Both were well occupied. And outside of the people crowding the drawing room and the smaller, adjoining parlor, Theo was in no danger of tripping over a table or breaking something valuable as she made her way to the other side of the room. The rugs had been rolled up for dancing and the furniture pushed back against the walls because Blythe’s home didn’t possess a ballroom.
When Theo finally reached the entrance to the hall, she congratulated herself on not having stumbled or stepped on anyone’s toe. She had in no way drawn attention to herself. She would be able to make her way to Blythe’s study hopefully unseen. The miniature would be retrieved. All would be well.
She lifted her chin, ready to marshal forward.
Theo had been raised to be confident. Steadfast. Brave in the face of adversity. The Dowager Duchess of Averell insisted that not one of her girls be weak-kneed nitwits whose only goal in life was to marry well. While both of Theo’s sisters and Olivia were self-assured, possessing little timidity, those same traits caused others in London to view the Barringtons as far too bold. Too daring. Entirely too adventuresome.
But none of them, not Romy, Olivia, or even Phaedra, would have ever presented such an inappropriate gift to a gentleman. Not only out of common sense and good breeding, but because none of them would have needed to resort to such a drastic measure to compel a gentleman to confess his feelings. Romy, Olivia, and Phaedra were all so...spectacular.
And Theo was bespectacled. Solitary. Hopelessly romantic.
When compared to the rest of the Beautiful Barringtons, Theo was horribly ordinary, at least in her own estimation. Yes, she painted, as did dozens of other young ladies, so nothing special there. Only the fact that she did miniatures made her the slightest bit interesting. When the physician specializing in eyesight, an oculist, had determined the need for spectacles, Theo had expected him to also say in the same breath that the middle Barrington daughter was destined for spinsterhood.
Theo’s sisters sparkled like the most brilliant of diamonds. Olivia flared softly, like the flames of a banked fire. But Theo’s own light was sodim,none could even see it. Until Blythe had noticed her. The bolder she’d become in his presence, the more attention he had showered on her.
Theo had felt as if shefinally...sparkled.
All of which had led to poor decision-making.
Theo turned in the direction of Blythe’s study. Being reckless wasn’t nearly as fun as Phaedra made it out to be. Theo only took one more step before she was stopped in her tracks by a tall, slightly mannish form in skirts.
“Good evening, Lady Theodosia. How lovely you look. I thought you might be here this evening. I’ve only just arrived.”
Drat.
“Lady Mildred.” Theo fixed a polite smile on her face. “How wonderful to see you as well. Might I say your gown is stunning,” she lied, taking in the blue silk cut low across Mildred’s broad shoulders. Feathers decorated the upper sleeves of the gown, a tragic fashion mistake Romy would never have allowed. Mildred resembled a giant bluebird.
She tried to sidestep the other woman with a small nod, but Mildred took her elbow.
“Is Mr. Estwood in attendance?” Lady Mildred’s brows lifted hopefully.
Theo hadn’t seen the businessman and financier, an associate of Granby and Blythe’s, among the guests, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here. Though based on what she knew of Lady Blythe, she couldn’t imagine Estwood had made the guest list. “I’m not certain.”
“Lord Haven, perchance?” Mildred asked.
The name sent a ripple down her spine. “Lord Haven?”
“I’ve heard of his interest in Miss Emerson.” Mildred’s lips twisted. “But I am far wealthier.”
And much more desperate for marriage, Theo knew. Poor Mildred. “Please excuse me, Mildred.”
Mildred didn’t release her arm. “I suppose I shall look for Mr. Clinton as well. Increase my odds, so to speak.”
“All right,” Theo stammered, looking up at the calculating gleam in Mildred’s eye, having no idea who Mr. Clinton was. “I wish you happy hunting. I’m sure Haven is floating about somewhere, as well as Estwood.”
Theo hadn’t yet seen Haven in the press of guests packing Blythe’s home. The very thought of encountering the annoying marquess, especially under her current panicked circumstances, was more than she could bear. His appearance in the park beside her last week had been unsettling enough.
“Now that I think on it, Mildred, I’m certain Haven is about. Miss Emerson is here, but she doesn’t seem happy. Perhaps they’ve had a falling out. Now might be the perfect time to ingratiate yourself with Haven.”
Mildred nodded slowly before giving a pat to her hair. “Perhaps you’re correct. I should hurry.” She sped away from Theo without so much as a goodbye.
Theo resumed her journey, finally reaching the door of Blythe’s study.
Placing her hand on the knob, she twisted the cool metal, relieved to find the room still unlocked. Stumbling in, Theo shut the door quietly behind her. A fire flickered in the grate. The lamp on a side table was still lit. Blythe’s ledgers were stacked neatly on the top of his desk. Everything was exactly the way it had been an hour or so earlier when she’d been so bloody sure of Blythe’s affection and—
