Page 65 of The Marquess Method (The Beautiful Barringtons 3)

Despite her anger at him, Theo couldn’t look away. Her fingers stretched at the remembered feel of all that sinew beneath her fingers. A soft throb at the apex of her thighs had her clutching the sheets.

Dammit.

It was very hard to make her point and stand her ground when her own body betrayed her so blatantly.

“I’m very tired, Theodosia,” he growled. “I promise, I’ve no desire for anything but sleep. You are safe from my attentions.”

“You left me here to flounder—”

“I sincerely doubt you’ve ever floundered in your life, Theodosia. Of all the things I admire about the Barrington women, I find your ability to let nothing deter you to be one of your finest qualities.”

Why must he compliment her? “That’s a nice way of saying we’re stubborn.”

He shrugged and started to pull off his trousers. “If you will recall, you dismissed me and set off with Jacinda. Declared, not in so many words, that you would take charge of this house.”

God help her, she could not look away. The rise of muscular buttocks and thighs appeared. He had a scar along one shoulder blade as if someone had swiped at him with a sword from behind. Or a knife. Such beautiful lines. Haven would have made such a lovely pirate.

An ache, like the slow drip of honey, slid lower, making her thighs tremble.

“I’m still angry.” The declaration was more for herself than for him.

“And I’ve apologized. It isn’t my fault you don’t want to accept it.” Haven flipped back the covers, meaning to get into bed with her.

She reached over and flipped them back.

“I told you. There isn’t another decent bed,” he said. “In case you haven’t noticed, because you can’t see most of the time, there is also a shortage of furniture at Greenbriar in general.”

Only a blind person, of which he just accused her of being, wouldn’t have noticed. The sarcasm in his reply did little to hide the shame lingering in his words. A rush of pity filled her, something Haven would detest if he glimpsed it.

“Miss Emerson would never have survived this,” Theo said in a casual tone. “She would have run screaming back to her carriage, wedding bouquet still clutched in her hand.”

“As I said, you are made of much sterner stuff, Theodosia. Though you claim to be a frivolous, odd Barrington with little to recommend you but scandalous self-portraits.”

“At least,” she pretended to be offended by his nakedness, “put something on.”

“Why? You’ve already seen everything. Or at least the blurry outline,” Haven shot back. “I don’t often wear anything to bed, and I don’t expect to start tonight. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t you dare touch me,” she felt the need to say even though he’d made no attempt to do so. Taking two pillows, she neatly divided the bed in half.

“Don’tyoudare touchme, Theodosia,” he said before blowing out the lamp. And with that, Haven collapsed on the bed.

* * *

Ambrose flopped backon the mattress, thumping hard to smooth out a tiny rise poking him in the side. Theodosia’s mood wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d thought it would be, though he didn’t care overmuch for the pillows in the middle of the bed. She had every right to toss him out of the room and kick him down the stairs after leaving her alone today, especially after their heated discussion at the inn.

Greenbriar and the events which had led to its current state often left Ambrose in turmoil, and today was no exception. How often had he arrived here from London, exhausted by his efforts to continuously plug the holes in a sinking ship, to be greeted with the neglect of both his family and the home he loved? Had he been a different sort of man, Ambrose might have avoided Greenbriar and its inhabitants altogether. He could have provided for his sister from London, but being here was a very specific sort of torture for him, and so he always returned. Today, Theodosia had needed distance, which he had been happy to give her. Not just for her sake, but his own. He didn’t think he could bear to see her face as she looked at Greenbriar. Cowardly of him, but true.

Genteel poverty was not a state Ambrose had ever thought he and Jacinda would be subjected to. He had been woefully unprepared for the responsibility. The disbelief over his father’s flagrant disregard for anything other than his own pleasure, along with the sadness, would sink into him the moment Greenbriar came into view, bringing back every word of the ugly argument between them. His father had been roaring drunk, snarling at Ambrose for daring to approach Leo Murphy to cut off his credit at Elysium.

The guilt slowly ate away at Ambrose, taking pieces of him as the years went by. Because he’d lost his temper and left England, not even bothering to tell Jacinda goodbye. He hadn’t been here to stop Leo Murphy, selfish prick, as he proceeded to take advantage of a grief-stricken man. Ambrose had been unable to halt the bleeding of Greenbriar and his family fortune. Nor present to save his beloved sister from the accident that lamed her. At least Erasmus had been here to care for her, no matter his reason for returning to Greenbriar.

Ambrose pinched his nose, feeling the small bump, longing for the time in his life when he hadn’t felt such overwhelming regret over the choices he’d made. Now the yawning abyss of guilt which always threatened to swallow him had stretched to include Theodosia. If Ambrose didn’t succeed in driving her away out of sheer stupidity, she was still bound to leave him if Leo Murphy saw fit to inform her of Ambrose’s threats. How the heir to the Marquess of Haven blamed Elysium and Murphy for beggaring his father. The threats Ambrose had made to take back the Collingwood fortune under any means necessary. Murphy would explain to Theodosia that she’d only been a pawn in Ambrose’s bid to avenge his family’s nonexistent honor.

Pain lanced across his chest.

He’d taken his time looking for Erasmus because he hadn’t really wanted to find his uncle, nor did he want to face Greenbriar and his own guilt, trapped neatly within the confines of its walls. Instead, Ambrose had stopped to check on the tenants he’d been successful in either luring back or convincing to stay. There was a pig farmer, Jasper, who he had high hopes for. A portion of the fence around Jasper’s pigs was in disrepair, so Ambrose had gotten in the muck with the farmer and helped him fix it.

Feeling somewhat lighter after the physical labor but still unwilling to see Theodosia’s reaction to Greenbriar, Ambrose had made two more stops, greeting his few tenants and asking what he could do to help them. His father had taught him the importance of listening before he became a walking tragedy.

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