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10
Theodosia frowned and fluttered her fan. A ridiculous accessory she’d never found the use for. Certainly fans were pretty and could help cool you after a dance. Perhaps send a message to a gentleman if you wished. But none of those things was enticement enough for Theo to carry one. Which was surprising because she did adore mysterious secrets and clandestine conversations.
Tonight, however, she’d taken her mother’s advice. If nothing else, the fan she carried served to hide the look of dislike on her face while watching Blythe dance with some dull blonde girl whose eyes bulged slightly, like that of a bullfrog. At least from what Theo could see.
The fan waved away such unkind thoughts. The atmosphere swirling about Lady Molsin’s drawing room, combined with the presence of Haven, brought out the very worst in Theo. And squinting at everyone made her temples ache.
Lady Molsin, bless her, had assembled a guest list for this evening’s event designed to demonstrate that theRuination of Theodosia Barringtonwas nothing more than idle gossip on the part of Lady Blythe. To that end, Blythe and his mother, along with Lady Emerson and her daughter, were in attendance, a challenge of sorts from Lady Molsin, daring them to refute the declaration that Haven and Theo’s impending nuptials had come about naturally.
Even without her spectacles, Theo could see Miss Emerson, shimmering like a desolate goddess, cast glances of longing in Haven’s direction before turning to look down her nose at Theo.
Theo fluttered her fan in Miss Emerson’s direction. She’d trade places with the girl in an instant if she could.
Haven, appearing far more elegant than Theo could have imagined in his evening wear, seemed oblivious to Miss Emerson mooning over him. The candlelight brought out the copper highlights lingering in the earthy loam of his poorly cut hair as he stood speaking to Estwood. The need for a proper shave and a decent haircut in no way diminished Haven’s attractiveness. If anything, the slightly rumpled look gave him a rakish appeal. A wolf in sheep’s clothing perhaps, a highwayman who dressed in finery merely so he could circulate among society. Before he robbed them all blind.
The tips of her fingers warmed.
She still wanted to paint him, more desperately now than she had that day in the park. Tonight, however, that urge was mixed with the unexpected desire to be close to him, inhaling the spicy scent she knew hovered about his broad shoulders.
Dammit.
Resisting such unwelcome thoughts, Theo turned away from her future husband, reminding herself that regardless of the ridiculous tale Cousin Winnie, Lady Molsin, and Theo’s mother sprouted about the room, marriage to Haven was nothing more than a way to salvage her own reputation. The entire party was an exercise in futility.
Absolutely no one in attendance this evening believed the match with Haven had come about after seeing each other again at Blythe’s party, not when the memory of her pursuit of Blythe was fresh in everyone’s mind. And Lady Blythe hadnotbeen silent. Her eyes, sunken into her plump features, alighted on Theo far more often than they should, each glance followed by a swat of her fan and a whisper to whoever stood near her. Which was usually Lady Foxwood and her daughter Beatrice.
Lord,why are they here?
The Foxwoods, Theo learned, had not been officially invited. They’d arrived with the Emersons, and Lady Molsin couldn’t very well have them thrown out. Or at the very least, she was too polite to have done so. Maybe Lady Foxwood, still having not recovered from her daughter losing the Duke of Granby to Romy, was taking pointers from Lady Blythe on how to disparage a Barrington.
Miss Emerson, Lady Foxwood, and Beatrice were already clustered together, whispering and bemoaning the fact that yet another Barrington had stolen a young lady’s anticipated bridegroom. Theo and the rest of her family should count themselves lucky that Miss Emerson and Beatrice hadn’t yet joined forces to storm the Averell mansion with pitchforks. Lady Blythe would lead the charge, brandishing her fan instead of a saber.
Theo pressed a hand to her mouth. It wouldn’t do to erupt in giggles for no apparent reason. Most everyone here already assumed her to be frivolous, and there was no reason to prove them right. She turned her attention back to Blythe, marveling at the way he danced with such agile, confident grace. He held the unappealing girl in his arms as if she were something rare and precious to him. Leaning in, he whispered, and the girl’s cheeks pinked.
Blythe had looked at Miss Cummings in exactly the same way when he’d danced with her earlier. And Lady Meredith.
And me.
Ice cold water splashed over her. A bucket of it. Lest Theo should begin to believe, even for a moment, she’d been anyone special to Blythe. She hadn’t been. The knowledge didn’t make him any less attractive. He still shone like a golden beacon, only not quite as brightly as he once had.
“Now this,” a dark rasp curled around her ear, “isn’t nearly as terrible as I’d anticipated.”
Theo’s toes curled inside her slippers at the sound of him. She couldn’t help it. There weren’t many things to appreciate about Haven, but his voice was one of them. A low, raspy tenor which never failed to fall over her in a most delicious manner.
“No.” Theo glanced over her shoulder, annoyed he’d interrupted her admiration of Blythe along with her unwelcome musings. “It is far worse.”
“I thought Phaedra was the dramatic one in the family.” His voice was deliciously rough.
Theo gave him a forced smile, her gaze floating over the tiny scar on his chin. “You’ve no idea how I feel, my lord.Youaren’t being looked at as if you are a rotten apple in an otherwise perfect bowl of fruit.”
Haven’s lips twitched as he clearly tried to contain the amusement he doubtless felt at her predicament. The motion drew her attention to his mouth.
“I doubt you can actuallyseeany disapproval sent your way. And I think of you as more of a bruised peach.”
A peach? Theo envisioned herself as something much hardier, with thicker skin. If not an apple, then a pear. “Your sarcasm, my lord, is duly noted. Now just leave.” She waved her fingers to shoo him away. “Miss Emerson is staring at me as if she wishes to stab me with her fan. I hope Lady Molsin doesn’t have a letter opener within easy reach.”
“You won’t be able to see her coming, in any case,” he murmured, his breath rustling softly over her shoulder. “That should be a comfort.”
“Very amusing. Go away.”
