The Marquess Method by Kathleen Ayers

4

It is one thing for a young lady to be compromised.

Quite another to be compromised by the entirely wrong gentleman while you are attempting to retrieve a half-naked miniature of your breasts which you painted for the right gentleman, who ironically is the witness, along with his overbearing mother, of your ruination.

Not even Phaedra, who had a flair for the dramatic, could have concocted such a scenario. It sounded like the plot of those lurid romances Theo was so fond of reading.

Lady Blythe’s shrill cry of horror echoed through the quiet of the study, slid outside to the hall, and possibly made its way to the drawing room before her son pushed her inside the room, shutting the door behind him.

Theo’s eyes had been closed, lips parted in anticipation of Haven’s mouth on hers. She twisted her head to see Blythe and his mother, both equally horrified, as their eyes lingered on the tangle of Theo in Haven’s arms.

“Well, this is unfortunate,” Haven said beneath his breath as the moss green of his eyes shuttered, allowing none of his thoughts to bleed through. His hands slid along her waist before reluctantly releasing her.

Theo wanted to smack him. Didn’t he understand what had just occurred? Her heart raced. Because she certainly did.

I’m ruined.

“Lady Blythe.” Haven bowed, poorly cut hair falling in disarray. “Blythe.”

Theo gazed with longing at the window, the fleeting notion that perhaps the very uncomfortable discussion in her future could be avoided if she simply tossed herself out the window into the street. Perhaps be run over by a carriage. Or two.

“Ruined,” Lady Blythe announced to them all, her words cracking like a whip in the air. She sniffed at Theo in disdain.

“Mother, let us not jump to hasty conclusions.”

Theo wobbled backward until the hollow of her knees bumped into the edge of the sofa. She sat with a very undignified plop, drawing another disapproving glare from Lady Blythe.

Her mind screamed out in shock. Horror. Humiliation.

There was no denying it. Even with a much more progressive upbringing than most young ladies, Theo knew well the consequences of being caught unchaperoned and alone with a gentleman. Not just alone, horror gripped her, but in an intimate embrace. No matter that such a position had begun merely as a struggle to retrieve a miniature. One whose existence she dare not speak of.

Haven had meant to kiss her. And worse, she’d wanted him to.

Her entire body still throbbed delicately from being so near him, heart fluttering at the press of that muscled torso against her breasts. In her search for the miniature, the hard planes of his chest had stretched beneath her fingers, making her exploration much more enjoyable than it should have been.

Oh, God.

She clasped her hands, wondering how on earth she was going to explain this situation to her brother. Because Lady Blythe, bastion of propriety, would insist the Duke of Averell be called to retrieve his errant, compromised sister. There was absolutely no chance Lady Blythe would put aside her stringent morals, not after seeing Theo in Haven’s arms. Haven would be asked to do the honorable thing, and he would, regardless of his rumored pursuit of Miss Violet Emerson. Not because Haven was honorable, per se, or even because he liked her. But because Theo’s dowry was enormous, easily dwarfing that of Miss Emerson’s.

Theo inhaled sharply, the spicy scent of Haven still lingering on her skin and clinging to the silk of her gown. He was impoverished. Why didn’t he smell of mothballs and worn clothing?

That somehow made things worse.

And she’d known full well what the hardness was scorching through the layers of her skirts. She’d seen a man’s . . . length at Elysium once. Not purposefully, of course. She and Romy had been curious about the private rooms. Mostly they’d seen only piles of silken sheets, feathers, lots of scarves, most of which were tied to the bedposts—

A wash of heat hit her cheeks.

Admittedly, Theo was far more curious than most young ladies her age. Mama didn’t believe any of her daughters should be raised in ignorance, oblivious to what took place in the marital bed. She knew the basics. Her mother had been descriptive. And Theo’s brothers had often failed to close the door firmly when discussing certain matters. And then what she’d witnessed at Elysium . . .

“Ruined,” Lady Blythe repeated in her precise, clipped tones, sounding somewhat satisfied as her disdain landed on Theo again. “Send for the duke. Immediately.”

Blythe watched Theo, a grim look on his angelic features, as if he were about to sentence her to prison and regretted it. She wanted to go to him. Explain, privately of course, that while things didn’t look good, nothing untoward had happened. And while her recent realization of Blythe’s feelings toward her hadn’t been welcome, Theo couldn’t completely diffuse her hope. She at least didn’t want him to stare at her with such shock and disappointment.

Blythe turned and opened the door a crack, whispering to someone just outside before stepping back in.

He’s sent for my brother.

“I came upon Lady Theodosia in the study,” Haven finally said to Lady Blythe. “I fear we are all well acquainted with her clumsiness. She tripped and I caught her. That is what you saw, my lady. Nothing more.”

Theo thought his defense of her, if you could name it as such, to be entirely too half-hearted.

“I’m not a fool, my lord.” Lady Blythe puffed up like an angry hen. “I suspect Lady Theodosia meant to find you here,” she said to Blythe. “And not Haven.” A mixture of pity and scorn narrowed her eyes as she took in Theo. “It seems your plan failed. You ‘tripped’ into the wrong gentleman.”

All hopes that the matter could be handled with discretion, perhaps allowing Theo to winnow her way out of the situation, immediately faded. Not that there had been much of a chance. Lady Blythe’s dislike of her had never been more apparent. Nothing would sway her from her assumption that Theo had meant to entrap Blythe, but still she had to try. “It was an accident. I am often clumsy. Lord Haven kept me from falling and injuring myself.”

Lady Blythe snorted in derision. “Did you trip all the way from the drawing room into my son’s study?”

Theo looked back down at her lap. She could not give the reason she was here.

“Haven must do the honorable thing despite his consideration of Miss Emerson.” Lady Blythe took in Theo on the sofa. “Another Barrington scandal, much like your sister.”

“My sister is not a scandal. She is the Duchess of Granby.”

“Yes, I believe all of London is aware of how your sister received the title, by enticing the Duke of Granby away from poor Beatrice Howard,” Lady Blythe replied, her tone ripping at Theo’s skin. “And now we must add Miss Emerson to the list of those injured by a brash and reckless Barrington.”

“Mother, it would be best to keep this entire incident private. Our guests need not know. Lady Theodosia’s reputation need not be harmed. If Haven says their meeting was accidental, I believe him.”

But not Theo.Blythe didn’t believe her. That was rather painful. Lady Blythe had judged Theo far before this evening. Too brazen. A lightskirt. A young lady with no decorum whatsoever.

“As long as Haven is willing to do the right thing,” Lady Blythe said in a self-important tone. “I agree it is best to spare Lady Theodosia a dreadful reputation.”

Theo sucked in a breath at the words. Lady Blythe wouldn’t make her a pariah if Haven married her. How lovely of Blythe’s mother. Her nails dug into her palms.

The room grew silent as they waited for Haven to speak. His handsome face had taken on a grim cast as if the thought of marrying Theo was abhorrent.

I don’t want to marry him either.

Regardless of their almost kiss, as well as their previous actual one, Theo doubted Haven had any true liking for her. Everyone knew a gentleman’s baser instincts could be aroused by the simple sight of a lovely bosom. Or a well-formed ankle. No affection was required to kiss or bed a woman.

When your brother operated a pleasure palace, you learned all sorts of things.

“I would prefer to discuss this situation with the Duke of Averell.” Haven gave Lady Blythe a withering look. “Who will not wish his sister’s reputation damaged in any way. If it will satisfy you to know, Lady Blythe, though it is not your affair, I do intend to do the right thing.”

“I have a moral obligation to uphold society’s rules,” she snipped back, smoothing her bright yellow skirts. “It speaks well of you, Lord Haven, to make such a sacrifice to spare Lady Theodosia any further disgrace. All the Barrington girls are bound for disaster.”

Theo bit her lip, stifling the scathing retort burning her tongue.

“I would make certain, Lady Blythe,” Haven replied, his voice akin to gravel beneath carriage wheels, “that you do not relay your feelings to the duke when he arrives.”

“I will ensure it,” Blythe intoned, looking down on his mother. “Because she will be occupied entertaining our guests. And she will say nothing. When your nuptials are announced to Lady Theodosia, there will be no mention of how your match came about, will there, Mother?” He opened the door once again. “Please send Lady Richardson to the study,” he said to a waiting footman.

Lady Blythe’s chin jiggled, angered at her son’s dismissal. “Lady Richardson? Yes, she performed her duties as well as she did at Granby’s house party.”

Blythe’s mother was a horrid woman. How had she ever produced such a glorious being as Blythe?

“Haven and I will speak to the duke without your interference. I’ll tolerate not another word, Mother. Should you speak ill of Lady Theodosia, I will send you and my sisters back to the country. Permanently.”

Lady Blythe gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Theo loved Blythe even more for his defense of her, if that were possible. Even if he didn’t return her feelings. Nor wanted her gift.

“I would.” He pushed her toward the door but held onto her arm, her plump form sputtering in indignation. “You will stay until Lady Richardson can join us.”

“The duke will be at Elysium,” Theo said, the words scratching against her throat. Tony was still managing the club in Leo’s absence. He spent most evenings there. Receiving notice of his sister’s disgrace was bound to put him in a terrible mood.

Blythe merely nodded. “I’ve sent one of the footmen.”

Theo wrapped her arms around herself, refusing to so much as shed a tear at tonight’s turn of events. She’d never imagined being forced to marry to save her reputation. Never even considered the possibility. Theo’s parents had been married for love. As had Tony. And though Theo thought Granby as exciting as the stone wall surrounding her brother’s London mansion, Romy and her new husband were madly in love.

Now she would be forced to marry Haven.

If he had just given her back the bloody miniature, none of this would have happened.