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“Well, weren’t you?” He lifted his brows.
“You know I was not.” Theo narrowed her eyes on him, ignoring the way the sunlight sparked along his jaw, turning the dark hair to copper. “My brother has an interesting theory. He thinks you compromised me on purpose. And Blythe helped.” Tony hadn’t said that...exactly, but she did enjoy the way Haven’s smug look turned to ice.
He rubbed his fingers over the hair along his chin, drawing her attention to the tiny half-moon scar. There was a stiffness to his movements, as if he were struggling to rein in his temper.
She wondered again where the scar had come from. It resembled the bottom of a broken bottle. Or a glass. He probably got it in a bar fight.
“I fear the duke is incorrect.” Haven’s low rumble hung in the air. “It was actually Lady Blythe I conspired with. She’s never liked you. Finds you far too bold. Inappropriate, I believe, is the word she used. Begged me to ensure you couldn’t get your hooks into her precious son.”
Theo glared at him. “You—”
“We practiced for several days before the party. I would pop out at her from various hidden nooks and stumble about, tripping over everything while pretending to be you. She would scream at the sight of me.” His words dripped sarcasm. “Howfortunateyou decided to place yourself in Blythe’s study at exactly the right time without my knowledge. Saved me the trouble of luring you there.”
“You’re impoverished, my lord,” she said defensively. “It is a fair conclusion.”
“That my father left me with nothing but a title? How incredibly astute you are, Theodosia. Perhaps you aren’t the ninny everyone assumes you to be.”
She fell back a step, surprised by the sharp cruelty of his attack. Theo had wanted to provoke Haven’s temper, and she’d succeeded. His eyes no longer flickered with hunger for her but icy indifference. Drawing closer, Haven stopped a mere hair’s breadth from her, looming over Theo until the tip of his nose nuzzled gently against her neck. A soft, soothing purr came from him.
Damn him.
A delicious prickling sensation cascaded downward, caressing every curve and hollow of her body. She arched ever so slightly toward Haven, unable to ignore the way his touch beckoned her to come closer. It made her forget almost everything, even the ugly words she’d forced from him.
Cruel words. Which she’d meant to return in kind.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” she murmured in what she hoped was a silken tone. “Marrying a woman so obviously in love with another man?” Theo knew the mention of Blythe would infuriate Haven. Not because he gave a fig for her, but because he envied Blytheeverything.
He raised his head from her neck, studying her with a cool, speculative look.
“Not at all, Theodosia. As you’ve so recently reminded me, our marriage is based on salvaging reputations and financial gain. Your affections,” there was a note of mockery, “are free to fall on whomever you deem fit. Thank Her Grace for the tea. I’ll see myself out.”
* * *
She’d meantto anger him with the mention of Blythe. Ambrose knew that. But that didn’t mean Theo’s little ploy to spark his temper hadn’t worked.
Pith, the duke’s imperious butler, glared at Ambrose with dislike before shutting the door of the Averell mansion behind him with a slam. No one inside the duke’s residence, including their priggish butler, cared for Ambrose’s upcoming marriage to Theodosia. Granby had warned Ambrose about Pith. At his first dinner with the Barringtons, Pith had deliberately served Granby the poorest cut of roast. His soup had been cold. When he’d left the table for a moment, he’d returned to find his potatoes over salted.
Averell had merely regarded Granby over his goblet of wine with a tiny smile.
In addition to Pith hovering over all of them earlier in the drawing room like some overprotective rooster guarding his hens, the dowager duchess and Lady Richardson had viewed Ambrose with a sort of tired resignation. Neither appreciated his robust appetite.
Ambrose did not think his future treatment would improve. Not if Theodosia had anything to say about it. She wasn’t indifferent to him, but considering most of what she felt was dislike, it didn’t bode well for their future.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll have back what Leo Murphy took from my father.
Ambrose didn’t require Theodosia’s affection, though she seemed to wish to bestow it upon everyone but him. He only needed her dowry. That he desired her physically was merely a pleasant addendum to the entire affair. He hadn’t put her in Blythe’s study that night.
Furiously, Ambrose pushed against the guilt attempting to wiggle itself into his chest.
Yes, he wanted to bed Theodosia.Christ, what man wouldn’t? But Ambrose also truly liked her. Much more than he wished to at times.
Why does everything have to be so complicated?
It shouldn’t be.
Ambrose blamed Leo Murphy and his pompous brother for beggaring a grief-stricken man who wasn’t capable of coherent thought let alone the decision to sign away everything of value.
The fault wasn’t entirely Murphy’s, even Ambrose had to admit that, but a great deal of it was.
