The Theory of Earls - Kathleen Ayers Page 0,96

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.

“I think you did, Welles.” Maggie shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks and a tortured sound left her. He’d never seen her cry before, not really, and certainly not as if he’d broken her heart. “I think next you will be asking if you can get rid of me.”

He swung up the bottle unable to look at her a moment longer. Tony had gone cold all over the chill of her confession hardening him to ice. Averell was going to win. There would be an heir to Cherry Hill. He had high hopes the child would be a girl, but he didn’t think he’d be so lucky. If his wife didn’t leave the room immediately there was no telling what other vile things he’d hurl at her.

“I love you, Tony,” Maggie whispered. “Your mother would want you to be happy. She never meant—”

“Get out of my sight,” he roared at the mention of his mother. “You have no idea what she would want.” He turned back to the brandy, guzzling as much of the bottle as possible before needing to take a breath.

“Tony—”

“Leave.” Wiping his mouth, he barely flinched when the door slammed shut behind him. When he finally turned around the room was empty.

Maggie was gone.

The next morning, after a night spent closeted in the small parlor with only alcohol and a plate of scones to fortify him—the last done in a burst of anger since his wife liked them so much—he decided to seek out Maggie. He’d behaved abominably.

As he went upstairs to dress, ignoring the constant stream of chatter from his valet, Tony glanced at the door leading to Maggie’s rooms. It was shut against him. The doors were always left open. He often joked Maggie’s rooms had become nothing more than a large armoire to store her clothing and other fripperies because she no longer slept anywhere else but with him.

Because I get cold at night without her.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he stared, unsettled by the sight of the closed door. Tony waved off his valet and knocked softly.

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