Page 87 of The Theory of Earls (The Beautiful Barringtons 1)

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“Iam with child.”

Tony’s head lifted from his desk to take in the tiny form of his wife, standing defiantly before him in the parlor which he’d been forced into using as his study. He’d only just returned from reviewing the Elysium account books with Leo and meeting with several wine merchants who were vying for a contract with the club. Winthrop had had the audacity to demand his membership be reinstated, which was highly amusing.

Tony had denied it.

“Excuse me?” At first, he thought he’d misheard her.

“I said, my lord,” her chin tilted mulishly, and her eyes flashed dark fire at him, “I am with child.”

The floor fell away beneath his feet while his vision narrowed on Maggie, the words ringing in his ears. A brief, tiny burst of joy tried to make its way out of the darkness rapidly enveloping him, but Tony viciously stomped the light out.

His eyes ran over every inch of her, searching for the truth in her words. Tony was intimately acquainted with every inch of his wife’s body, and—his gaze dropped to the abundant spill of her breasts over the neckline of her gown.

Bloody hell.

The news shouldn’t be unexpected, given his inability to keep his cock in his pants when his wife was in close proximity. But Tony had ensured they took precautions, as he had for years, determinednotto have a child before his prick of a father was in the ground and couldn’t possibly delight in the knowledge he would have an heir.

He stood and went to the sideboard, not even bothering with a glass as he took a deep draught of the bottle of brandy he kept there. Pausing to wipe his mouth he uttered, “Well, that’s bloody inconvenient.” All the feelings about his marriage, his father, his mother’s death, erupted once again after having been contained for so many weeks. At the moment, he detested his weakness for the woman standing before him. Resenting her and the child she carried.

“I know this isn’t what you planned. But it isn’t unexpected—”

“Because I fuck you so much?” He swallowed more brandy, feeling the burn go down his throat and into his belly. The bitterness, dark and ugly, gnawed at him. The promise he’d made to his mother as she lay dying in his arms echoed in his ears, that Tony would make the Duke of Averell pay for what he’d done.

Maggie flinched. “There isn’t any need to be crude.”

“Do you know I saw my mother’s stomach move? My unborn sibling was trapped inside her, slowly dying along with my mother. I watched until the movement stilled and then, so did she.”

His wife paled, her eyes fluttering shut against the picture he painted. “Tony—”

He was so enraged, so full of pain remembering the death of his mother. It had never really gone away. The coppery smell of her blood still lingered in his nostrils even after all these years. Maggie was stopping him from avenging her.

“Are you sure it’s mine?” he said in a nasty tone, delighted to watch the oval of her face whiten until she resembled one of the statues his stepmother liked to collect. “After all, you were entertaining a mob of piano players while I stayed at Elysium. Are you sure you didn’t give one of them lessons in something else?”

“You’re being unreasonable. And horrible.” She stepped back in shock, the woman who loved him with every fiber of her being. He was doing his best to destroy that love despite his soul screaming at him to stop.

“I understand,” she clenched her small fists, struggling for composure, “you are less than pleased with this news, considering the steps we’ve both taken—”

“Did you, Maggie? Take steps?” He sounded irrational and didn’t care.

“I can see we can’t possibly discuss this calmly. This is a shock to both of us.” Maggie went still. Like she used to with her aunt to avoid attention. That she was doing so now infuriated Tony.

“Can’t you just get rid of it?”

Dear God.He wished the words back before they’d completely left his mouth.

Maggie sucked in her breath so sharply he thought she might fall over. Her hand went out to steady herself against a table. She was regarding him with horror, the kind usually reserved for monsters.

“Christ, Maggie. I—”

She shook her head and backed away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

Pain dug into his heart at the words. Tony held out his hand to her as if Maggie were a small bird he didn’t wish to frighten. “I didn’t mean it.”

Maggie clasped her hands over her stomach in a protective gesture and stayed out of his reach.

She’s afraid of me.The knowledge stung.

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