Page 48 of The Theory of Earls
Margaret’s eyes fell to her lap, reminding herself not to flinch as they continued to speak about her as if she were merely a broodmare for Winthrop to sweat on.
Her eyes fluttered closed, remembering Welles pulling up her chemise, pressing his mouth to her skin as he moved up her prone body, worshipping every inch of her. She doubted Winthrop would show any woman such care.
Focus, Margaret.
She forced her thoughts back to the matter at hand, opening her eyes to see Winthrop watching her. His escort presented a small problem in that he may stick to her side like an immense burr beneath a saddle, perspiring over everyone, especially Margaret. She would need to escape his attention and that of her aunt for a short period of time to be compromised properly. The duchess would have gaming tables set up. Winthrop liked cards, though according to rumor, he wasn’t very good at faro or whist.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to think of how to get rid of Winthrop. If she was lucky, her pear-shaped problem would take care of itself.
22
Tony stepped into the Averell mansion and immediately into the embrace of his stepmother. Amanda smelled of lilies and powder as she offered her cheek for his kiss. She was resplendent in an emerald-green gown, her wrists and ears dripping with Averell diamonds. She even had a tiny tiara atop her red-gold hair.
“Welles. I’m so glad to see you this evening. I became worried you wouldn’t come.”
He was a trifle late, but not overly so. “I would never miss your ball, madam.” He took her hands. “You look stunning. I will have to keep an eye out for any rogues who may approach you.”
She blushed and shrugged off his hands. “My son, ever the charmer.”
A burst of affection filled him for his stepmother. She rarely referred to him or Leo as anything but her sons in public, ensuring the Barringtons all presented a united front to theton. Despite his feelings about the duke, Tony’s father had done something wonderful in marrying Amanda.
“And you’ve brought Lord Carstairs,” she said with a smile. “I’m delighted to see you.”
“Your Grace.” Carstairs executed the required polite greetings with a vacant smile, perfectly happy to be attending a ball tonight and not out stalking a deer. He’d spoken adoringly of the estate he’d inspected for Tony, assuring him on the carriage ride over the property would do very well as a hunting retreat.
Tony pretended he gave a shit. He had a great many other things on his mind.
When Carstairs had casually mentioned Miss Lainscott, expressing his complete admiration for her, Tony had barely resisted seriously injuring his friend. The idea of giving Maggie to Carstairs was rapidly becoming intolerable to Tony. The idea of Winthrop pawing her was even more loathsome.
She belongs to you,a tiny voice whispered.
Despite visiting his sisters every day, much to the delight of Phaedra who pestered him to accompany her on the piano while she screeched away on the violin, Maggie had not appeared. The object of his desire seemed determined to avoid him, which was probably wise on her part. Tony didn’t think he would have been able to refrain from touching her had she arrived to take tea with his stepmother. He’d thought of very little else but Maggie since she’d left Elysium.
After greeting the duchess, he and Carstairs walked into the warren of rooms leading to the ballroom. Tony looked around him, barely seeing the portraits of his ancestors, the cream-colored walls, or the carved wainscoting. He resented Carstairs’s presence at his side, wanting nothing more than for his friend to leave him in peace.
Carstairs, for his part, chatted amiably about flushing out a group of rabbits and didn’t Tony think rabbit, if seasoned properly, went well in a pie?
Tony cast him a bland look. Carstairs had no idea how close he was to being strangled like the rabbits he was gushing over. He reminded himself that his friend was doing a service for Maggie, he just wasn’t aware of it. Carstairs was thehonorableone. A man who would marry her. Unlike Tony, who would not. All he had to do was imagine the Duke of Averell’s happiness at hearing that Tony planned to wed, and a chill would fall over him along with a burst of resentment toward Maggie.
You could have her.
Besides, MaggiewantedCarstairs. A bloody dimwit she could control. She wanted marriage to anhonorableman who wouldn’t ask her to play the piano half-naked in a pleasure palace. A man who would welcome a wife and child. She wanted to avoid Winthrop. Andno oneshould be subjected to Winthrop. It was normal, after what they’d shared, for Tony to feel protective of Maggie.
I want her.
Carstairs slapped him on the back, startling him out of his thoughts. “I see Miss Turnbull.” He pointed to a far corner of the ballroom where the young lady was holding court amongst a small group of young gentlemen. “I would like to apologize to her for leaving town in such haste. It was terribly rude of me after our fishing trip.”
“Are you always so fucking nice?”
Carstairs blinked his eyes at Tony, confused. “Why, yes. What good would it do for me not to be?” He nodded before going to the side of Miss Turnbull.
Tony cursed beneath his breath. Carstairs was undeserving of his foul mood. He was a good, if not-too-bright, friend. He’d left town to inspect an estate as a favor to Tony without a second thought, asking no questions, because he’d been asked to do so. Tony turned his attention from Carstairs to his stepmother’s ballroom, taking in the glittering display of titled wealth before him. The room was full of beautiful women who were, even now, casting looks in his direction. In the not so distant past, Tony would have taken advantage of so much bounty, but not tonight.
Damn her.
“You look bloody angry at Carstairs. I can’t imagine what he’s done to provoke your ill-temper. Isn’t being mad at him rather like kicking a puppy?”
Tony turned to Leo, who lurked in a dark alcove next to a statue of some Greek god.
