Page 85 of The Marquess Method (The Beautiful Barringtons 3)

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Theo was learning to play faro. She’d become quite good at it. Enough so that she was winning. Either that or Duckworth, one of her brother’s dealers, was intentionally letting her win. Either way, it was an excellent way to amuse herself. Pass the time. Not think of Haven.

Once, it would have been drawing or painting which she’d gravitated to in order to soothe herself. But lately, Theo would start out with the intent to sketch a dog, for instance, and moments later it would be Haven. Haven naked walking out of the pond he liked to swim in. Haven asleep on his stomach, one foot sticking out of the sheets. Haven talking to Jasper the pig farmer who, as it turned out, was a lovely man.

Theo wobbled on her stool as longing for her husband struck her.

Dammit.

“Anything wrong, Lady Haven?” Duckworth peered at her with concern.

“Nothing at all.” She gave him a broad smile. “I was only wondering if Duckworth was your real name.”

The dealer leaned in. “Unfortunately, it is.”

Theo laughed and tried to pull her thoughts from Haven. A difficult task. Thus, the need for faro. She’d learned how to stroll among the tables at Elysium until she found a game that looked promising, confidently sitting down at any table she wished. Sometimes Tony joined her when he wasn’t working the floor, but usually, it was her sister-in-law, Maggie, who served as her companion. Sometimes the Dowager Duchess of Averell appeared in glittering skirts of gray. Mama liked dice.

It was true. Married women had all sorts of freedom, especially if they possessed an estranged husband who preferred the country.

It had been several weeks since Theo had returned from Greenbriar, arriving at the Averell mansion ensconced in her brother’s lavish coach, deposited on the doorstep like some horribly overpriced package. The gossips weren’t surprised by her return to London, given the start her marriage had had, especially Lady Blythe. Theodosia, long the odd Barrington, now appeared to be the most scandalous one.

Everything in London had taken on a dull, gritty sheen since she’d returned from Greenbriar. And it wasn’t because she’d left her spectacles in Haven’s drawing room and refused to consider getting another pair.

Plain and simple, she missed him. Dreadfully. The day her brother’s letter had arrived, Tony, behaving far more wisely than she’d thought him capable of, had not explicitly ordered her to return home. He’d only said that it was time Stitch return the coach to London. It was Theodosia’s choice whether she wished to be in it.

I didn’t know what else to do.

The shock of Leo’s note enclosed in Tony’s letter had left Theo sitting on that stupid sofa, unable to breathe. Neither of her brothers had any reason to lie to her, though Papa had always told Theo there were several versions of the truth. She thought the advice especially pertinent in this instance.

‘I barely remembered the Marquess of Haven until I got Tony’s letter.’Leo had written.‘Determined to drink himself into an early grave. Always asked for the most expensive French brandy. His son did ask me to stop extending him credit, but the marquess laughed it off, decrying his heir as privileged, lazy, and all too likely to bankrupt the family on his own.’

Theo tapped the table for another card and smiled up at Duckworth. Staring at her cards, she barely saw them. None of Leo’s letter made sense to her. Haven was the furthest thing from lazy, though possibly in his youth he might have been. Before he went to Italy.

‘When the son, now your husband, returned after inheriting, he did threaten me. I replied in kind. I showed him the papers with the signature of the late marquess. He’d signed everything over to me, what little that was left. His daughter’s dowry, which he said she wouldn’t be needing since the useless girl is lame. I may be a bastard, Theodosia, but I have three sisters and Olivia, all of whom I love. He was deeply in debt to me, but I drew the line at taking that poor girl’s dowry. The marquess insisted.’

Jacinda spoke of her late father with affection, albeit with a great deal of disappointment. Edmund had been wracked with guilt over Jacinda. Why would he have punished her further? Addictions to drink and gambling could change a person for the worse, Theo supposed, but the idea that Edmund had caused his daughter’s accident then intentionally left her penniless?

Brandy. French brandy.

“There you are. Shall we call it an evening?” Tony stood before her, blindingly handsome, oblivious to the greedy stares of several ladies fluttering about the tables. He stuck out his arm to offer escort. “If you win much more, I might have to call you out for cheating.”

“I think Elysium can afford the loss.” Theo grinned at him and scooped up her winnings. “I’m ready to return home.”

“I agree. I’ll be thrilled when Leo shows his bloody face again. I wish he’d hurry up about it.”

The entire family knew Leo was chasing Lady Masterson in New York, though he claimed to have gone there on a business venture.

“Has he caught Lady Masterson yet?” Theo asked, taking her brother’s arm. “I feel certain he won’t return until he does.”

Tony shrugged. “I’ve no idea. He doesn’t mention her in his letters, only the investments he’s been making and directions on how to run Elysium. Since he hasn’t returned, I’ll assume things aren’t going exactly as he wishes.” He led her through Elysium to the waiting Averell carriage outside. “Even your current predicament couldn’t wean him from his pursuit.”

Tony rarely spoke of her marriage. Never used her husband’s name. His favorite way to refer to Haven as of late was theparasite.

He handed her into the waiting carriage and crawled in behind her. “Truthfully, I’m ready to seek my bed. If one more bloody idiot thinks I’m Leo, I may be forced to commit violence. As if Leo would ever dress so tastefully,” Tony huffed. “Those ghastly waistcoats he favors hurt the eyes and are an affront to finely tailored gentlemen everywhere.”

“He just likes a bit of flash.” Her brothers looked very much alike, so much so that people often confused one for the other, especially from a distance.

“I can’t imagine anyone mistaking us. Those waistcoats are a dead giveaway.”

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