Page 43 of The Marquess Method
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” she murmured. His closeness, the press of firm muscle against her softer form, was incredibly distracting. “You slept the entire time.”
“Perhaps I was deep in contemplation.”
“The book I’ve struggled to read through your snoring isLord Thurston’s Revenge.” Theo was loath to abandon their game of truths. “It’s lurid. Horribly romantic. Lots of swooning. Cackling pirates. Salty seadogs.”
Haven took her hand, leading her into the inn. He paused before the door and grinned before whispering in her ear, “I’ve already readLord Thurston’s Revenge. You’ll like the ending.”
Disreputable, slightly nefarious Haven read the sort of romance which made young ladies fan themselves? “I don’t see how that could possibly be true,” she said.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “My sister wanted to read Lord Thurston. I insisted she could not until I had read one of the books first to ensure her gentle mind would not be corrupted by such drivel.” Haven’s eyes glowed in the most amazing way as he looked down on her. “I found myself entirely engrossed. Now I’ve read them all.”
“I’m not sure I believe you. But very well. And you really do smell of gingerbread.”
He stopped, bits of russet falling over his forehead. “So you’ve said. That doesn’t count as something new.” Heat sprang up in his eyes, the sort which made Theo’s insides twist pleasurably. She turned away and trotted inside the inn.
After a quick conversation with the owner, a round gentleman with an incredibly thick head of spikey ginger hair, Haven released her into the company of a thin girl who introduced herself as Mary as he went outside to confer with the driver and two footmen, all on loan from Theo’s brother.
Apparently, Theo was to be ignored further. She followed the maid up the stairs and down the hall until Mary stopped before a door.
“Congratulations on your marriage, my lady,” Mary said as she pulled a key from her pocket. “Our best room, as Lord Haven requested. I washed and changed the linens myself. You’ll rest well tonight.” A furious blush dusted her cheeks. “What I mean to say is—”
“Thank you, Mary.” Theo saved the girl further embarrassment by answering. Her eyes fell on the large, comfortable-looking bed before taking in the rest of the room. There was a hint of beeswax in the air along with soap. Thankfully, everything smelled clean. A relief at an inn. A small bouquet of fresh wildflowers sat on the table next to the bed.
Theo supposed it was as good a place as any to lose her virtue.
Something coiled sharply inside her. Fear? Anticipation? Arousal? She was full of all those things and curious after what she’d seen at Elysium.
The lovers had been entwined on a bed in one of the private rooms. If they had sensed Theo opening the door, or her presence, they had given no indication. They certainly hadn’t so much as paused in their enjoyment of each other. The man had his head between the woman’s thighs, and she...had hers between his...her lips on the man’s...length. Theo had been frozen, unable to look away, fascinated not only by the couple but by the way her own nipples had tightened and at the feathering sensation between her thighs. Moans and wet sucking sounds had filled the air. When the woman had cried out in pleasure, the man had abruptly shifted, positioned himself between her legs, and thrust—
Startled, body pulsing at the sight, Theo had silently backed out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. She’d taken a deep breath before finding Romy, who had still been wandering about two doors down in a room empty except for a variety of feathers and long pieces of silk streaming from the posts of an enormous bed. Romy was holding the silk, muttering to herself in a dazed voice that the silk must be used to tie a person to the bed before engaging in—whatever they meant to do.
Theo, flustered and with a dull ache between her legs, had said not a word to Romy about what she’d witnessed.
As luck would have it, Theo had had the pleasure of being introduced to Lady St. Martin at the first ball she’d attended upon her family’s return to London. She’d nearly choked on her punch when she recognized the countess as the woman she’d seen at Elysium.
The room grew warm, though Mary had only just started the fire. Theo wanted Haven to do those things toher. Imagined him touching her in such a way. No wonder all of London considered her to be brazen. Because if Theo were any sort of proper young lady, she would be weeping quietly at the horror of what awaited her in the marital bed.
Not thinking of Haven’s hand possessively palming her sex as he sought to make his point.
Theo fell back on the quilt covering the bed, staring at the ceiling above her.
How in the world had she found herself here? Married to the Marquess of Haven, of all the eligible gentlemen in London?
“Stupidity,” she finally said aloud. Aided and abetted by a glass of spilled ratafia and an exquisitely painted half-naked miniature of her breasts. Which she didn’t think Haven meant to ever return to her.
“My lady?”
Theo looked up. Mary had finished unpacking her valise and now stood at the door, a question on her thin face. Behind her was a big, buxom girl and a copper tub.
Theo had been so lost in her scandalous, arousing thoughts, she’d never heard Mary even leave the room. The maid must think her a terrible snob, one of those titled women who never acknowledged servants unless something was required. Mama would have her head for behaving in such a manner. It was a rule all the Barringtons lived by; treat everyone, no matter how lowly their station, with the same respect you might give the queen.
“I’m so sorry, Mary. I never heard you leave.”
Mary nodded shyly at the apology. “A bath, my lady. Lord Haven said you might wish it. But if you do not, we can take the tub away.”
“No, I do.” Thoughtful of Haven, considering he’d abandoned her not moments after their arrival.
The tub was soon filled, a haze of steam hovering about the copper edges. Mary had set a bar of soap and towels on a nearby chair. Theo picked up the bar and took a whiff, her nose wrinkling at the harsh scent. She went to her valise and retrieved the soap smelling of honey and lemons Betts had carefully and thoughtfully packed for her. Carrying it to the tub, she turned to the young girl who was placing out Theo’s hairbrush and tooth kit.
