Page 67 of The Marquess Method
There was so much pain at the mention of his father. Theo could see it in the lines bracketing his mouth, the tightness around his eyes. She remembered what Jacinda had told her, that Haven had left for the Continent, not returning until after his father was dead. It was obvious from the flash of anguish he wasn’t quick enough to hide that Haven’s relationship with his father was far from resolved. Much like Tony and Leo’s with her own father. “The stars?”
“I was an amateur astronomer. Or at least I thought I was. My father would take me out to the lawn.” He pointed to a slight rise in the grass. “We would lie on our backs in the grass, and he would name the constellations, tracing them in the air for me.”
Out of all the things Haven could have told her about himself, that was the one she’d least expected. “I thought you spent your days getting into trouble. You don’t seem the sort to quietly sit and gaze up at the heavens.”
“Oh, I found plenty of trouble, Lady Haven. Or it found me. I’ve a short fuse. Quick to anger, as I’m sure you know.”
She did, though it showed itself rarely as of late. Haven seemed much more peaceful now than when he’d been in London. Theo liked to think perhaps she had something to do with that. “Is that how you got this?” She reached out without thinking and touched the tip of her finger to the scar on his chin.
“Tavern brawl.” He wiggled his brows. “It was glorious, Theo.”
Theo exhaled softly. She did love it when he used the shortened version of her name. The sound, in Haven’s gravelly rasp, never failed to disarm her. “Glorious. A brawl? Are you joking?”
He shot her a mischievous grin. “Most glorious.”
“Did you have a telescope?”
“I did. As well as star charts and stacks of books on navigation. At one time, I was very enamored of pirates and ships.”
A tiny shiver ran down Theo’s spine. How appropriate.
“My parents were worried I would run off and become a cabin boy or join a band of brigands. Because I liked to fight. And I’ve always been good with pistols. And a sword.”
She could see Haven, standing on the deck of a ship with his imperfect nose, brandishing a cutlass, scaling the rigging and such or whatever it was that pirates did, in his lovely bare feet.
“Unfortunately, as I found out when I set out for Italy, my stomach doesn’t share my love of the ocean. I get terribly seasick. I’m like Erasmus in that regard.”
Theo laughed. “That is another truth, I think.” She paused in her amusement, thinking of Erasmus and the discussion she must have with Haven about him. But she pushed the thought aside for later.
“And I loved that telescope.” His gaze lingered on her. “I would look at the moon and imagine I saw a face, which my mother claimed was a hallucination brought on because I’d eaten an entire pie by myself. Apple, if that is your next question. I adore apple pie.”
“I doubt there is any pie, my lord, which does not merit your attention. How old were you?”
“Nine.” He shrugged. “Maybe ten. Coincidentally, it was the first time I found out my father had a twin brother. Erasmus announced his presence by riding up to the front door and falling off his horse, drunk. He’d come to beg money from my father and possibly to catch a glimpse of my mother. Whatever his reason, he was desperate enough to board a ship bound for England, at least. He stayed drunk most of the time he was here, which wasn’t very long. Insisted on calling himself the Marquis de Haven. Which made no sense at all.”
“Do you think,” Theo said carefully, “he might have visited London for a time before he returned?” She was convinced that was the only way Erasmus could have seen or possibly met her father. Or seen her brother. The thought gnawed at her, begging to be explained.
“No. My father put Erasmus on a ship himself. Probably wanted to make sure his brother was gone. He went back to France with another sum bestowed upon him and some of my grandmother’s silver, which we didn’t realize until later. At any rate, I hope my telescope ended up in the hands of a young boy who was as fascinated by the heavens as I was.”
Theo absorbed every word he spoke. The cadence of his rumbling tenor. The way he always sounded as if he’d just awoken. But mostly, Theo concentrated on the many truths her husband imparted to her. The parts of himself she suspected he hadn’t shared with anyone else.
Haven reached out, tracing the spray of freckles up her chest with a forefinger, and whispered, “The Corona Borealis. It’s a constellation. Your freckles are remarkably similar. I told Blythe that, you know. He never could remember the damned name.”
Fire lit across the skin of her chest at his touch, flowing down across her breasts, peaking her nipples. The pull in Haven’s direction, always present, tugged even stronger now. It was hard to concentrate on anything else but him. Even the fact that Blythe had stolen the idea that her freckles resembled a constellation from Haven failed to disturb her focus on the man before her.
“Is this studio your apology to me?” she murmured, catching his fingers with hers.
“Will Theodosia’s Line of Demarcation finally be dissolved?”
“Possibly.”
His lips brushed softly against her fingertips. “My greatest crime is for allowing you to think our enthusiasm for each other was commonplace. Something that any man with a cock and a willing woman could accomplish.” His eyes shuttered closed for a moment. “It was not. What happened between us, myfeeling—was only for Theodosia Louise Barrington, and no one else. As rare and beautiful as you are.”
“Ambrose.” She rubbed her thumb along his bottom lip, her heart squeezing tightly at his words. “I fear, my lord, that diplomacy is required for the dissolution of Theodosia’s Line of Demarcation.”
A soft, almost imperceptible sound of relief left him. “Diplomacy?”
The notion had floated about Theo’s mind since the day he’d come upon her in the park and had only grown stronger since. Her fingers itched for her charcoals. To have him at her mercy while she sketched out the curving muscle of his chest. The rough lines of his cheeks and jaw. The thought was highly erotic. “I want you to model for me.” She lifted her chin. “I will accept nothing less.”
