The Marquess Method by Kathleen Ayers

24

Theodosia’s spectacles had stayed on during their entire delicious, inappropriate, middle-of-the-day . . . romp.

Ambrose eventually divested her of her clothing, afterward. Theo gave protest, stating they would only have to dress her again to go downstairs. Women’s clothing was an exhausting process, she stated, thus the need for maids.

“I don’t mind. Besides, there’s a door on the other side of the hall which leads to the servant’s stairs. No one will notice us. And the door has been open the entire time. I hope Rolfe didn’t hear you screaming and venture up to check on you.”

Theo giggled. Haven really was terrible. “Rolfe would never do so. He’s very Pith-like. Pith never bats an eyelash at any of the Barrington antics. Takes everything in stride. I’m sure he’s practicing fencing with Phaedra right at this moment.” She turned to take him in. “Which you will be blamed for.”

“Your sister is mildly frightening.” Haven was gliding his fingers over the skin of one breast, watching with fascination as the nipple tightened and peaked beneath his ministrations. He pressed a kiss to the tip.

Pleasure twisted inside her once more. If she didn’t think they’d eventually be missed, she would cheerfully stay here with Haven forever. But eventually he’d need food. A great deal of it.

His mouth danced against her neck. “I meant to seduce you after dinner.”

“Did you?” Only Haven would think of food before seduction. “Were you going to ply me with wine?” Her finger trailed along his jaw, rubbing over his bottom lip.

“Gingerbread.”

“I know. Rolfe told me.”

Haven managed to appear offended and predatory all at the same time. Probably because his fingers were moving through the soft down of her mound, teasing her. “It was meant to be a surprise. I was going to share it with you. Maybe in a bath. After dinner.”

A slight tremor ran through her at the light, seductive touch. “I might have known—” Her tone raised an octave as his fingers found the still-sensitive bit of flesh. His thumb rotated and pressed softly. “—your stomach would come before me,” she breathed, opening her legs more fully.

Theo had never felt so wanton. It was incredibly freeing.

“Nothing comes before you, Theodosia.” He pressed a kiss to the end of her nose. “Nothing.” His fingers stroked until she whimpered against him.

“I think it wrong,” a soft gasp left her, “for you to use sexual conquest in order to get me to agree with you.”

“My methods,” he kissed her lazily as her hips lifted, “are sound. I’m merely making a point.”

Theo couldn’t answer. All she could do was feel.

* * *

“I’m goingto paint a very large picture in the drawing room,” she told him much later as the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. The entire household would suspect what they’d been doing all afternoon. She smelled of Haven. Every inch of her.

Haven helped her with her dress. He was very good at women’s clothing.

“It will cover the whole of one wall,” she continued. “A very large, complicated project.” Theo wasn’t going to ask permission. In cases like this, and with Haven in particular, it was better to just blurt out what she meant to do. They would argue about it later. And the idea had only just come to her.

“You’re going to paint a picture on the wall? Like one of Granby’s frescoes?”

“Yes. A large painting. On the wall.”

“Why would you want to do such a thing?”

Theo stared at him over the top of her spectacles. “Did you not say I was in charge of decorating as I see fit? Making decisions and such?”

“I was talking about fabrics. Furniture.” He pointed to the sofa, which looked worse for the wear. “Wall hangings. Besides, I thought you only liked to paint things no bigger than a book. Miniatures and such.”

“I’ve decided I can handle something larger.”

“You certainly can.” He kissed her roughly.

“You’re insufferable.” There was no bite to her words. Indeed, she was struggling not to laugh out loud. “What I intend to paint will be magnificent.”

“Will it at least,” he tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear, “be something I’ll like? Not a scene from a ball with pompous lords and ladies?”

“I promise. Not so much as a hint of a fan or a gown.” Theo meant to paint the night sky over Greenbriar in varying shades of blues, the idea having come to her while Haven was telling her about his love of the stars, a love he’d shared with his father. She hoped it might ease some of the pain he lived with and remind Haven of a happier time. Hasten the forgiveness which he needed to give. She had witnessed what a lifetime of anger and bitterness could do; Leo and Tony’s attitude toward the late Duke of Averell and their inability to forgive their father before he died had nearly driven a wedge between all the Barringtons. Both her brothers would live with a well of regret for the remainder of their lives. Theo didn’t want that for Haven.

Which brought her to the next question.

“How did Jacinda become lame?”

Haven’s fingers stilled against her cheek. “She fell.” His features instantly shuttered.

Theo had already ascertained as much. “In the library?”

He stepped away from her, turning to look out the window. This was obviously a topic Haven didn’t care to discuss, but unfortunately for him, Theo did.

“Our father, while in his cups,” he spat out as if the taste of the words poisoned him, “knocked her off the ladder. I was . . . not here. He was such a bloody sot, he didn’t even recall being in the library. And then he went and,” his lips clamped tightly before inhaling sharply, not looking at her, “left Jacinda with nothing.”

Not me or the estate but Jacinda. There was more to the story, but it wasn’t the time, not with her body still humming gently from their afternoon together. She wondered if Haven’s father had ever gone to Elysium. Lost a purse or two there while playing cards.

“Erasmus could barely stand.” Haven shot her a hard look. “But at least he wasn’t passed out on the floor while Jacinda wept in pain. Mrs. Henderson found them. But it was Erasmus who had the sense to summon a physician. My uncle isn’t good for much, but he does care for Jacinda.”

The image of Erasmus flashed before her. The way his lips had curled in dislike at his niece. Theo had to have been mistaken.

“After Erasmus visited when I was a child, when he fell off the horse in front of the house, my father mentioned my uncle at times to me, but never spoke his name in front of my mother. He considered Erasmus a lost soul. My father cared for him, but the brothers were not close, if they ever had been. At least, not until later.” Haven turned away for a moment.

“When you were on the Continent.”

Turning back to her, he ran a finger down the length of her arm. “My uncle claimed he had come to console my father. Said he’d heard of my death from the fairies.” He gave a derisive snort. “Ironically, I was injured, but I can’t imagine how Erasmus would have known about it. I’m fairly certain there were no fairies about when it happened to send him word. But with my temper, assuming I’d been killed in a fight wasn’t much of a stretch.” Haven’s head tilted toward his shoulder where the scar she’d seen earlier shone stark white against his lightly tanned skin. “Set upon by thieves. I’m sure if they’d known how poor I was, they wouldn’t have bothered.”

Theo reached out, pressing her fingertips to his chest, desolation filling her at the mere thought of a world without Haven. “Possibly not.”

A large hand covered hers. “Another one of my uncle’s brandy-fueled hallucinations. If it matters, he also claims the fairies come and drink with him next to that tree he hides his spirits in.” Haven’s breath fanned across her cheek as he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “We should wash up before facing the rest of the house.”

Theo nodded, happy and at peace for the first time since arriving at Greenbriar. “You mentioned another surprise.”

Haven kissed her again. “You’ll see it when we wash up.”