Page 18 of To Tempt Lady (Victorian Outcasts #10)

seventeen

Astorm battered London without pause that night.

Emma was sitting in her favourite bay window in the library, watching the impressive downpour, the flashes of lightning, and the drops of rain pelting the glass. And she couldn’t stop worrying about Marcus and the boy.

That decrepit, unsafe house might get flooded. She’d learnt a thing or two about bad houses since she and Trevor had started their project in St. Giles.

Were Marcus and the boy safe? She was warm and comfortable in her beautiful house while he lived in that horrid place. Maybe she should pay him a visit right now, not because she wanted to ask him again about the work, but to see how he was faring and convince him to accept her help.

She shoved off the blanket covering her legs and stood up when the door opened.

Stewart gave her a quick bow. “My apologies, my lady, but there’s a man, who claims to be Mr. Kingston, at the rear door. He said that you and His Lordship invited him here. He wants to see you urgently, and His Lordship has just left for his club.”

“Marcus!” She ran towards the servants’ entrance.

“He’s changed a lot.” Stewart followed her downstairs towards the rear entrance. “I hardly recognised him.”

She rushed past Mrs. Daubney, who wrung her apron and shifted her weight.

“We’re worried, my lady,” Mrs. Daubney said.

Emma skidded to a stop at the end of the corridor. Completely soaked and dripping water, Marcus stood next to the door, holding a bundle of blankets. A shock of stillness went through her.

“My lady.” He sounded breathless. “I beg you. Jesse is sick. I’ll do everything you want if you help him. I’ll work for you. I’ll stay here, but please help Jesse.”

“My lady,” Mrs. Daubney tilted her head to stare at Emma. “Them boys seem to be starving.”

Emma blinked. “Good Lord, of course. Come in.” She turned towards Stewart. “Send for Sir Paul immediately and have the blue room ready.”

“At once.” Stewart left in a hurry.

Mrs. Daubney exhaled. “Thank you.”

“Prepare a hot meal for our guests,” Emma said to the cook.

Mrs. Daubney beamed. “With pleasure, my lady.”

“Thank you,” Marcus said in a broken voice.

“We’ll take Jesse to my room for now. It’s warm and dry. Follow me.” Emma went up the stairs, concerned and relieved at the same time.

Marcus’s soft footfalls were a contrast with the boy’s laboured breathing.

“Is he running a fever?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s getting worse.”

She opened the door to her bedroom. “Our physician is excellent.” She lifted the covers to make space for Jesse.

Marcus discarded the soaked blankets on the floor and laid him gently on the bed. “I’m sorry to have barged in here, but Jesse was burning up, and then water started to flood the flat. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Marcus.” She touched his arm but withdrew her hand when he tensed and drew in a sharp breath. “You did the right thing. You don’t need to apologise.”

He wiped his wet hair from his face, shivering.

She caressed Jesse’s hair. The boy was breathing heavily, and his face was red with fever. “Why don’t you go downstairs and ask Mrs. Ferguson, the housekeeper, to have a hot bath drawn for you? Ask her for some dry clothes as well.”

“I want to stay close to Jesse.”

“You’ll catch a cold, too, unless you change. That won’t help Jesse. I’ll stay with him until the doctor arrives.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. Before leaving, he paused at the door. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome.”

She sat on the edge of the bed once alone. Jesse stirred, scrunching up his face in pain. He muttered something, and she leant closer to hear him.

“What is it, dear?”

“Mama?” He opened his large brown eyes; the pupils were fully dilated. “Where were you when I cried for you last night?”

Emotion tightened her throat. She held his burning hand. “I’m here now, darling. All will be well.”

“I was scared.” His voice sounded raspy.

“I’m here now,” she repeated, caressing his matted hair.

He squeezed her hand tightly and muttered something she didn’t understand.

Trevor wasn’t at home. He wouldn’t be pleased to learn she’d let Marcus and Jesse in. But then again, Trevor was never pleased.

She held the boy’s hand until Stewart showed Sir Paul into the bedroom.

“Lady Emma.” He gave her a quick bow, glancing at the bed. “Is this boy the patient?”

“His name is Jesse.” She stepped aside to give space to the physician, but the moment she released Jesse’s hand, he wheezed and coughed.

“Mama, don’t leave me!”

She rushed back to him. “I’m here.” She took his hand again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His breathing was laboured, but he calmed when she took his hand.

Sir Paul frowned as he visited the boy, checking his eyes, pulse, and chest. “What did they give him?” He leant closer to him. “It seems the boy had too much laudanum and something else which someone with a running fever shouldn’t take.”

“But he’s going to be all right, isn’t he?”

“I’ll do my best, my lady. I’ll give him some valerian for the pain and salt of tartar for the cough. At least he’ll sleep decently tonight, and sleep is the best cure.”

The boy squeezed her hand tightly throughout the visit, and her vision blurred a little at the boy’s pain.

When the physician left, Jesse was soundly asleep, his breathing already better than before. The nightstand was filled with bottles of potions.

She caressed his forehead, brushing the thick locks from his face. The fever was still high, but he wasn’t shivering anymore.

Marcus knocked on the doorframe before entering the bedroom. His hair was wet from the bath, but he wore a brown suit that had to be warm and thick.

“Come in,” she said, waving him in.

“How is he?”

“Better. Sir Paul said the syrup Jesse had taken made the sickness worse, but he’s asleep now. He needs rest and light food. We’ll take good care of him. Don’t worry.” She kept saying that, but he didn’t look relieved.

No matter what Marcus decided to do with her offer, she would make sure Jesse recovered quickly. She hated the fact that Marcus agreed to work for her only out of desperation. She wanted to tell him she and Trevor would think about the boy even if Marcus refused the job.

He stroked Jesse’s head with tenderness. “Thank you. I’ll do my best to repay your generosity.”

No, there was no need for that. “About that. I need to talk to you.”

Tension returned quickly to his shoulders. “I thought so.”

“You said you would do everything to keep Jesse safe, and I guess you meant it.”

“I did.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Well, I have a proposition for you. Something between just you and me, if you know what I mean.” She would deal with Trevor later. He would bark and grumble, but she wouldn’t change her mind.

“I know what you mean. But not here.” He was flustered and…angry? “Can we go somewhere else? In case Jesse wakes up.”

“My personal study is next door.”

He frowned deeply. “The study?”

“What better place?”

His puzzled expression confused her.

Worried by his sudden tension, she opened the door to the study and shut it behind them once Marcus was inside. She sat on the Chesterfield sofa while he took the armchair in front of her.

The sizzling log fire made the atmosphere cosy, despite the lingering tension between them.

“I know you were serious when you said you would do anything for Jesse,” she said, trying to find the right words to offer him her help without offending him.

As Trevor had said, insisting would have the opposite result with Marcus, so she would be subtle.

“I understand what you mean,” he said in his deep, strained voice.

“Do you?”

He nodded, scrubbing the back of his neck.

That was a relief. Less talk on her part.

“Well, so what do you think?” She didn’t fully understand his behaviour though, and he didn’t say anything else.

“Are you married?”

The question surprised her, not because she found it improper, but because her marital status had nothing to do with the job offer or Jesse’s well-being.

“No.” A nervous giggle escaped her. “I don’t even have an intended.” Why did she add that?

“So we won’t be disturbed.”

“No,” she repeated but more cautiously. Was she missing something?

“What do you like?”

So they were back to knowing each other better. Although since after the tragedy, they hadn’t had the chance to do that.

She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth. “I like so many things I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Let’s start then and see how it goes.”

She was speechless for a moment. “Right.”

He sucked in a deep breath and clenched his fists over his knees. The fabric of his jacket strained across his shoulders as he tensed further. Perhaps he already regretted having declared his commitment to a job he didn’t like with people he didn’t trust, but she would reassure him shortly.

When he looked up, it was as if a mask had dropped on his face. Any signs of fragility and worry were gone, replaced by an emotional coldness that left her shivering.

Before she could say anything, he stood up and started unbuttoning his jacket.

It was a little hot in the study what with the big stove in the corner, the thick carpet, and the wooden wainscoting.

He had to be too warm. But when he discarded the jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, a moment of shock took her.

“What…what are you doing?” She wished her voice didn’t sound so squeaky.

He lowered his shirt, revealing his naked chest and fine body although a few thin scars were a testament to the hardship he’d endured.

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” he asked in a cold, professional tone.

She opened her mouth in disbelief. What was happening? Her brain didn’t seem capable of doing anything.

“Kiss me?”

“It’s your choice.” He tossed the shirt on the jacket, standing gloriously half naked in front of her.

But when he started to work on the falls of his trousers, she returned to reality.

“Stop!” She shot up to her feet, chest heaving.

Her tone must have stunned him if the shocked expression on his face was any indication.

He kept his hands on the falls. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Who knows? I have no idea what you’re doing.” She didn’t want to gaze upon his nakedness, but he was the first man she’d ever seen half naked in real flesh, and she was a little curious. And he was a little handsome. Well, more than a little.

“I think there’s a misunderstanding here,” she said. Alas, she had no idea which type though. “What are you doing exactly?”

He thankfully removed his hands from the falls of his trousers. “You want me to lie in bed with you, don’t you?”

“Heavens, no!” She turned around to face the stove. Now, the temperature was indeed too hot. “Please get dressed.”

There was a moment of silence. Then the swish of fabric came from behind her.

“I’m dressed,” he said.

She faced him again, relieved to find him fully covered. She rubbed her burning forehead. “I didn’t mean that you and I…I mean, you know what I mean.” Embarrassment had taken control of her speech.

“I’m sorry. I misunderstood you.”

Obviously. What kind of people had he met? What kind of person did he think she was? She would never take advantage of him in that way.

Her legs quivered, so she sat down again, focusing on her hands.

“What I meant to say is that I’m going to take care of Jesse no matter what you decide to do with the job.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to work with us.

I don’t want you to feel forced into doing something you don’t want to as if I were blackmailing you. That’s all.”

“That would be charity. I’ll accept wages for a work well done.”

“I only want Jesse to be healthy.”

He sat down again. “And I want to work for you. It’s not only fair, but I thought about your proposition, and I believe Sir Horace’s work puts people’s lives at risk. People shouldn’t get hurt because I’m worried Sir Horace will retaliate.”

“Trevor and I will do everything to protect you.” She must have said something wrong because his grey eyes suddenly became sharp. “Nevertheless, should you change your mind, we won’t force you to do anything you don’t want, and Jesse will be taken care of anyway.”

Another long moment of silence filled the room. The thunder boomed, offering much-needed noise.

“Thank you,” he finally said in a sweet tone that made her sigh.

“I’ll tell Stewart to have a room ready for you.”

“Do not worry. I’ll sleep where Jesse is sleeping. I want to make sure he’s all right.”

“I’ll have a chaise longue carried to the bedroom then.”

His eyes remained hard. “I can sleep on the floor. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“There’s no need for you to sleep on the floor. You’re in my house, and I’ll do everything to make you comfortable.”

“I’m used to living without any comforts.”

She pressed her lips tightly. Their awkward conversation had turned into a competition in endurance of discomfort. Of course, he would be the winner.

She jutted out her chin. “You and Jesse are my guests. I’ll have the chaise longue delivered to Jesse’s bedroom. You decide what to do with it.”

“Fair enough.”

“Good.”

“Good.”