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.
He paused, rubbing at his chest, the ache now there for an entirely different reason. The walk back to Blythe’s home, though a bit of a distance, would be welcome. Now that Ambrose was about to be a wealthy man once again, he could have hired a hack. Or purchased his own carriage and horses. But thriftiness had become second nature. Poverty was something Ambrose was unlikely to recover from any time soon, if he ever did. Years spent scraping for every shilling, defiantly paying off the debts his father had amassed while struggling to ensure Jacinda and Greenbriar survived. He should have married immediately upon his return to England. Or at the very least, asked his friends for help.
But his pride was all he had left. He wouldn’t take their charity.
And then he’d met Theodosia and her sister at Granby’s house party. He’d fought against the solution before him, the one possessing a magnificent bosom and poor eyesight. A solution which would allow him to thumb his nose at Elysium and restore his pocketbook.
A surge of rightness, of validation, had coursed through him.
The duke was right to be suspicious of Ambrose’s intentions, except, ironically, for the night at Blythe’s. But then, if Averell had truly thought something nefarious had occurred, he wouldn’t have handed over his sister, or her enormous, obscene dowry.
Ambrose had nearly fainted when he’d seen the amount.
There had been no flicker of recognition in Averell’s face when Ambrose was formally introduced. No sign that Murphy had told his brother about the threats of the destitute heir to the Marquess of Haven. It had been wise to avoid the duke when Ambrose had called on Andromeda and then again at Granby’s wedding.
‘Someday I’ll take back what was mine.’
Murphy had considered the words an idle threat. The ravings of an angry heir who now found himself destitute. And while he hadn’t put events into motion that night in Blythe’s study, the fact remained that Ambrose had always meant to ruin Theodosia Barrington.
He just hadn’t expected her to help him do it.
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.
