Ambrose walked into the drawing room, shocked for a moment by the transformation of the space. Bloody beautiful. He prepared himself to dodge one of the recently purchased vases or knickknacks, but he should have known better.
Theodosia sat calmly, so stunning it hurt to look at her, a celestial body having fallen from the heavens to grace the drawing room. There was nothing left of the flirtatious, slightly empty-headed young lady, ripe for ruination, whom he’d met so long ago.
No, not empty-headed. Theodosia had only refused to see her own value. Stumbling about blindly to attract Blythe’s attention. Instead, it was Ambrose who’d been drawn to her. Seeing the look on her face, she might prefer Blythe now, after all.
Her shoulders were stiff. Chin tilted upward not in defiance but with disdain. There was no warmth for him in the swirling blue of her eyes. Only a flash of the wound he’d inflicted. His last hope that Leo Murphy had forgotten the Marquess of Haven evaporated.
How ironic. He’d lived for years wanting Murphy to remember him.
He approached the wall, unable to look away from what she’d painted. For him. He’d never told her he loved her. He should have. Theodosia would never believe those words, not now. And she had returned that love. The proof was before him.
The night sky above Greenbriar, the same one he’d seen outside the windows of the studio he’d given her upstairs, was depicted across the long wall facing the door. The stars looked exactly as they had on the untold evenings Ambrose had spent with his father, picking out the constellations. Dreaming of the moon and stars while his father instructed Ambrose how to navigate using the heavens.
He and his father would share pie and drink cider. Ambrose would tell him all about his day, the rocks he’d collected in his pockets. The frog he’d brought for Mother, though she wasn’t at all impressed.
The wall was stunning. Magnificent. Far more than Ambrose deserved.
Theodosia wore midnight blue, matching the sofa she sat upon, an opened letter next to her. Even from where he stood, Ambrose could see the seal of the Duke of Averell. He took a step closer, pained when her slender form fell back slightly as if his touch would soil her.
“It’s magnificent,” Ambrose said. “Youare magnificent.”
“Did you want me the moment I spilled ratafia on you or only after you realized I was Leo Murphy’s sister?”
A fist clamped down on his chest—the pain of his heart breaking. “Theodosia—”
“Answer my question, Ambrose.”
“It’s complicated,” he said softly, taking a careful step in her direction, afraid she would run from him. “Please let me explain.”
“All this time.” Her words held such an acrid note, hardly sounding like Theodosia at all. “You had me believing—” She looked down at her lap before raising her chin again. “You made me believe you wantedme. But that wasn’t the case at all.Youwanted Leo Murphy’s sister.”
“I didn’t lie about wanting you.”
“Only everything else.” Her words were sharp. Cutting. As if the last few weeks had never happened.
“One had nothing to do with the other. I fell in lov—”
“Don’t youdare. Do not say it.” Theodosia trembled slightly, blinking as if to stop from weeping, something he’d never seen her do, not even when Lady Blythe treated her with such scorn. “You promised to be honest with me.”
“I did. I am. You know how I feel about you.” He pressed a palm over his chest, directly above his heart. “Youknow.”
Theo’s gaze flicked over him, chilly and uncompromising. “You never told me Elysium was where your father beggared himself, Ambrose. Never explained to me that he gave away everything you held dear so he could play dice at the club my brother owns. Wasn’t that a truth you should have told me?”
“My father didn’t give it away,” he shot back. “Your brother coerced him into it.” He was angry now too. Incensed that one letter from Leo Murphy far outweighed the nights spent in his arms. The way they’d worked together to rebuild Greenbriar. The love Ambroseknewlay between them.
He took a step forward. “My father wouldneverhave gambled everything away, especially not my sister’s dowry, without someone drawing him along. I’m sure he made the perfect mark. Grief-stricken. Wealthy. Easy to manipulate. Your brother is a monumental prick who delights in destroying bits and pieces of the aristocracy because he will never belong to it. My father is doubtless only one of Murphy’s victims, all because your brother can’t tolerate being a low-born bastard.”
Theodosia didn’t even flinch at Ambrose’s snarling temper. Instead, she smoothed down the fabric of her skirts.
“My brother’s illegitimate birth in no way diminishes who he is or my love for him. He is a businessman. You behave as if Leo incited your father to drink and gamble away everything but his title. Edmund Collingwood,” her eyes narrowed behind the glass of her spectacles, “was a sot and a very poor gambler. Liked whores as well, I’m told.”
Ambrose thought he might snap in two. He backed away from her, horrified by this repulsive conversation. One he’d prayed never to have.
“He was only too happy to sign away your inheritance, Ambrose. The only inducement he needed was found at the bottom of a bottle of scotch. A truth you refuse to see but one I’ll acknowledge.”
Even as angry as he was, Ambrose admired Theodosia’s steel. Her absolute loyalty to her brother and her family. He just wished she felt a bit of that loyalty for him.
“I am not sure how you managed to be in the study at exactly the right time, nor do I wish to know. Maybe you and Blythe conspired together.” She gave a shrug. “I suppose when faced with both myself and my sister at Granby’s house party, you couldn’t decide which one of us would do. I suspect Granby claiming my sister deterred you, so you sought out second best.”
