Page 84 of The Marquess Method
Now, Haven’s sister sat across from her in the drawing room, sipping on a cup of tea procured by Rolfe.
“What do you mean you suspected him? Why on earth wouldn’t you have said anything to me?” Haven was pacing about like a caged tiger, threatening to wear holes in the new rug Theo had purchased. “How, Jacinda? I didn’t.”
“You weren’there, Ambrose,” Jacinda stated. “And I didn’t suspect him at first. Why would I? I’m not even sure I knew I had an uncle until he showed up at Greenbriar while you were gone. Before Uncle Erasmus officially arrived, Mr. Henderson kept babbling about seeing Lord Haven down by the tree. You know, the one where our uncle eventually took up residence? One night, he came in to tell Mrs. Henderson that his lordship had sworn at him like those soldiers who followed old Boney. Napoleon is who he meant. Mr. Henderson fought with Wellington in his youth.”
“I’m familiar, Jacinda.”
“He was speaking French,” Theo said. All the energy rushing through her earlier in her anxiousness to get to Haven had faded and was quickly being replaced with exhaustion. “I take it your father did not speak French. Nor was he, I suspect, overly fond of brandy.”
“No. And there were times,” Jacinda said, “when I was certain father was upstairs, but I’d see him walking out to that tree.” She shook her head. “Erasmus was here on and off and I never knew it. Not then, anyway.”
A knock sounded at the door, and Rolfe’s broad shoulders appeared. “My lord, the constable has arrived.”
Haven nodded and went to his sister. “Go up, Jacinda. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
She set down her cup, hobbling over to Theo and taking her hand. “Thank you for rescuing my brother.”
“I didn’t need rescuing,” Haven replied. “I had the situation in hand. All she did was toss a brandy bottle. Poorly. She was just as likely to hit me.”
Theo didn’t mind his snarling. She’d felt the way his fingers had gripped hers, as if he were afraid she wasn’t real and would disappear. He was probably still worried she’d leave, which partially accounted for his mood.
Jacinda pressed a kiss to Theo’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re home, Theo.” She limped toward the door, her cane thumping along the floor. Pausing, she cast a narrow-eyed glance at her brother before drifting out into the hall.
“My lord.” Rolfe was still standing patiently. “The constable.”
“I’ll be along in a moment, Rolfe.” Haven waved his hand at the butler. “A moment.”
When she and Haven were alone again, he took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb along her fingers. “Don’t leave.” The intensity of his gaze on her deepened until the moss of his eyes was nearly black. He turned her hand over, pressing a kiss to her wrist. “Please.”
“I won’t, Ambrose. I promise.” Theo had no intention of leaving.
“I am profoundly happy you are here, Theo.” He pressed her fingers to his heart. “Wait for me. I’ll be up in a bit.” He dropped her fingers and walked to the door. “And don’t even think about putting up Theodosia’s Line of Demarcation.”
31
Theo watched the flames dance across the room as she waited for Haven, considering all they needed to say to each other. She’d had a lot of time to think about her marriage. How it had begun and how she wished it to proceed. The betrayal was still there, but it was muted by a sense of feeling loved. So many things spoke of it. The studio Haven had made for her. Remembering she hated mushrooms. Insisting she wear her spectacles. Logically, there wasn’t any way for Haven to have known she would paint a half-naked miniature of herself nor bestow it on Blythe. Hehadtried to get her to leave the study. Although he could have tried harder.
Did it matter any longer whether he had taken advantage of the situation?
She loved Haven. Forgave him. Believed him. He loved her, and while he hadn’t said the words, Haven had shown her in dozens of ways before that terrible day when her brother’s missive had arrived. In his eyes, Theo flared brilliantly. Such a feeling was worth fighting for. Cherishing. No matter how it began.
The sound of footsteps came toward the door. Haven. She knew what he sounded like.
He came into the room, peering at the bed to see if she was still awake.
“Hello, Ambrose.”
The bed dipped as he sat, eyes intent on her, devoid of his usual annoying comments. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be here when I came up.” The words were hoarse as if they’d sat in his throat for days.
“I promised you I wouldn’t leave. And I could see you perfectly well, by the way,” she said in a saucy tone. “Or at least enough to notice which one of you was Erasmus.”
“You realize you didn’t hit him.”
“I clipped his ear.” She frowned slightly. “At least I think I did.”
His hand, warm and slightly calloused, cupped her cheek. “I missed you, Theodosia.” The low rumble whispered over her. “So much.”
“In addition to mushrooms,” she whispered, “I do not care for turnips. That is my truth. Now tell me yours.”
