Page 15 of The Marquess Method (The Beautiful Barringtons 3)

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It is one thing for a young lady to be compromised.

Quite another to be compromised by the entirelywronggentleman while you are attempting to retrieve a half-naked miniature of your breasts which you painted for therightgentleman, who ironically is the witness, along with his overbearing mother, of your ruination.

Not even Phaedra, who had a flair for the dramatic, could have concocted such a scenario. It sounded like the plot of those lurid romances Theo was so fond of reading.

Lady Blythe’s shrill cry of horror echoed through the quiet of the study, slid outside to the hall, and possibly made its way to the drawing room before her son pushed her inside the room, shutting the door behind him.

Theo’s eyes had been closed, lips parted in anticipation of Haven’s mouth on hers. She twisted her head to see Blythe and his mother, both equally horrified, as their eyes lingered on the tangle of Theo in Haven’s arms.

“Well, this is unfortunate,” Haven said beneath his breath as the moss green of his eyes shuttered, allowing none of his thoughts to bleed through. His hands slid along her waist before reluctantly releasing her.

Theo wanted to smack him. Didn’t he understand what had just occurred? Her heart raced. Because she certainly did.

I’m ruined.

“Lady Blythe.” Haven bowed, poorly cut hair falling in disarray. “Blythe.”

Theo gazed with longing at the window, the fleeting notion that perhaps the very uncomfortable discussion in her future could be avoided if she simply tossed herself out the window into the street. Perhaps be run over by a carriage. Or two.

“Ruined,” Lady Blythe announced to them all, her words cracking like a whip in the air. She sniffed at Theo in disdain.

“Mother, let us not jump to hasty conclusions.”

Theo wobbled backward until the hollow of her knees bumped into the edge of the sofa. She sat with a very undignified plop, drawing another disapproving glare from Lady Blythe.

Her mind screamed out in shock. Horror. Humiliation.

There was no denying it. Even with a much more progressive upbringing than most young ladies, Theo knew well the consequences of being caught unchaperoned and alone with a gentleman. Notjustalone, horror gripped her, but in an intimate embrace. No matter that such a position had begun merely as a struggle to retrieve a miniature. One whose existence she dare not speak of.

Haven had meant to kiss her. And worse, she’d wanted him to.

Her entire body still throbbed delicately from being so near him, heart fluttering at the press of that muscled torso against her breasts. In her search for the miniature, the hard planes of his chest had stretched beneath her fingers, making her exploration much more enjoyable than it should have been.

Oh, God.

She clasped her hands, wondering how on earth she was going to explainthissituation to her brother. Because Lady Blythe, bastion of propriety, wouldinsistthe Duke of Averell be called to retrieve his errant, compromised sister. There was absolutely no chance Lady Blythe would put aside her stringent morals, not after seeing Theo in Haven’s arms. Haven would be asked to do the honorable thing, and he would, regardless of his rumored pursuit of Miss Violet Emerson. Not because Haven was honorable, per se, or even because he liked her. But because Theo’s dowry was enormous, easily dwarfing that of Miss Emerson’s.

Theo inhaled sharply, the spicy scent of Haven still lingering on her skin and clinging to the silk of her gown. He was impoverished. Why didn’t he smell of mothballs and worn clothing?

That somehow made things worse.

And she’d known full well what the hardness was scorching through the layers of her skirts. She’d seen a man’s...lengthat Elysium once. Not purposefully, of course. She and Romy had been curious about the private rooms. Mostly they’d seen only piles of silken sheets, feathers, lots of scarves, most of which were tied to the bedposts—

A wash of heat hit her cheeks.

Admittedly, Theo was far more curious than most young ladies her age. Mama didn’t believe any of her daughters should be raised in ignorance, oblivious to what took place in the marital bed. She knew the basics. Her mother had been descriptive. And Theo’s brothers had often failed to close the door firmly when discussing certain matters. And then what she’d witnessed at Elysium...

“Ruined,” Lady Blythe repeated in her precise, clipped tones, sounding somewhat satisfied as her disdain landed on Theo again. “Send for the duke. Immediately.”

Blythe watched Theo, a grim look on his angelic features, as if he were about to sentence her to prison and regretted it. She wanted to go to him. Explain, privately of course, that while things didn’t lookgood, nothing untoward had happened. And while her recent realization of Blythe’s feelings toward her hadn’t been welcome, Theo couldn’t completely diffuse her hope. She at least didn’t want him to stare at her with such shock and disappointment.

Blythe turned and opened the door a crack, whispering to someone just outside before stepping back in.

He’s sent for my brother.

“I came upon Lady Theodosia in the study,” Haven finally said to Lady Blythe. “I fear we are all well acquainted with her clumsiness. She tripped and I caught her. That is what you saw, my lady. Nothing more.”

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