Page 72 of The Theory of Earls
“Then perhaps you should take up your complaint with Lady Dobson.”
His large hands clutched at his sides, the malice in his gaze thickening to hatred.
Maggie marched closer to him and watched with delight when he took a small step back.
“I’m so sorry you won’t receive my substantial dowry, Winthrop. You behave as if you were entitled to it for some reason. Oddly enough, it seems my wealth has ended up in exactly the same spot it would have if I’d accepted your proposal.Here.Elysium.” She glowered at Winthrop, daring him to contradict her. “Probably at the very faro table I’ve just vacated. I understand you play abysmally.”
A series of shocked gasps echoed around her. Margaret ignored them all.
Winthrop’s mouth popped open at her diatribe, no doubt expectingtimidMiss Lainscott, a girl who couldn’t even meet his eyes during his pathetic courtship. Margaret was no longer playing at being a mouse to navigate a society and an aunt she detested.
I have never been that girl.
I see you, Maggie.Welles had always known. Her heart gave a painful lurch.
“Now if you willexcuseme, Lord Winthrop,” her eyes took in his sweating mass, the derision clear in her tone. “I am needed upstairs. I plan on engaging in fisticuffs with Lady Isley for having theaudacityto kiss my husband while I was occupied playing cards.”
The whispers around her grew louder at her declaration. As if she gave afig.
“I bid you good evening.” Margaret tilted her chin, challenging Winthrop to say more. She’d thought about fleeing Elysium, but halfway across the gambling floor, she changed her mind. Her husbandmay notlove her despite Georgina’s remarks. But he cared for her.Shewas Lady Welles. He had come back toher. Margaret would nottolerateLady Isley’s disrespect and would make her feelingsabundantlyclear to the red-haired harlot.
Her fingers curled into fists. She was relatively sure she could throw a decent punch.
Turning on her heel, intent on her mission, Margaret was halted by a familiar wall of muscle, clad in indigo and smelling of the outdoors and leather.
She winced as another odor invaded her nostrils.
There was also a trace of what had to be Lady Isley’s perfume.What a cloying scent.
“Brava, Lady Welles,” the wall of muscle rumbled. “Fisticuffs with Lady Isley? Over my honor? I’d no idea you were so bloodthirsty.”
Margaret ignored his teasing remark. She was angry and might burst into tears. “My lord.”
Welles looked down on her, one dark brow raised at her clipped greeting, but the corner of his mouth ticked up.
“Do not,” she said in a serious tone, “mock me.”
His eyes glittered in the light of the chandeliers. “I would not dare to do so, Lady Welles. At the moment, you’re rather frightening. Do you require my assistance?” He looked over her head at Winthrop, who was wheezing behind her.
“No. I’m doing quite well on my own, thank you. But Iamready to return home, my lord. Will you be staying to escort Lady Isley?”
Welles frowned. “I will be leaving withyou.” Taking her gently by the shoulders, he positioned Margaret behind him. “Stay put,” he said for her ears alone. “Good evening, Winthrop. Is there something you’d like to say tomywife? If there is, pray continue.”
Winthrop shifted back and forth, drawing attention to his choice of footwear this evening. Brown satin with gold buckles and a tiny bit of a heel.
Margaret cringed just looking at him. Now that Welles was here, her anger was rapidly being replaced by mortification at the scene she’d caused. The entire gambling floor had heard her threaten Lady Isley.
“I was not compensated nearly enough,” Winthrop sputtered.
Margaret’s hand tightened on the back of Welles’s coat.Compensated?
“Indeed? My solicitors made an error? Or are you inferring I’ve been dishonest with you?
“Of course not.” Winthrop paled, craning his neck around, suddenly aware he had become the center of attention in a most unpleasant way. “But—”
“I understand. You had a verbal agreement with Lady Dobson to marry her niece. You’ve missed out on her very substantial dowry.” The low rumble of his voice became dangerously polite with a distinct chill.
“There was acontract.” Winthrop looked down at his ridiculous shoes, then back to Welles, his face ugly.
