Page 19 of To Tempt Lady (Victorian Outcasts #10)

eighteen

Marcus didn’t sleep well even though the chaise longue—he’d decided to use it, after all—in Jesse’s bedroom was better than the bed in his flat, he was warm and dry, and Mrs. Daubney had arranged an excellent dinner for him.

Also, Jesse had slept peacefully through the night, never waking up to cough.

He shouldn’t complain.

But being in Emma’s house and needing her help made him uncomfortable. Not because he was above asking for help, but because it was her.

He’d accepted charity from people when he’d lived on the streets, but those had been strangers. She wasn’t.

After all those years, his feelings towards her hadn’t changed. If anything, they’d sharpened and became enriched with flavours, like fine aging wine in an oak barrel.

She still was the most breathtakingly beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Her eyes held him captive whenever she looked at him, and her lively personality made him feel kissed by the sunshine.

But he had made a fool out of himself last night.

He’d assumed she wanted to have a tumble with him in exchange for having sent for the doctor.

Habit. Tumbles had been his currency as of late.

Her face had been of horror then disgust. Disgust for him.

He was glad she hadn’t meant to bed him because, while he still had romantic dreams about her, he didn’t want to bed her only to settle a debt. It would be like spoiling his feelings for her.

Knowing she didn’t have a suitor had been a sweet relief. Being engaged or married wasn’t something he usually cared about a woman who wanted to pay to be with him, but she was another matter.

Sitting on the bed, he put a hand on Jesse’s forehead, glad the skin was not feverish anymore.

Jesse’s eyes fluttered open. “Marcus.” His voice was rough.

“How are you?”

The boy took some time to answer, rubbing his face and chest. “Better. Tired. What—” He sat bolt upright, gazing around. “Where are we? What’s this place? Did I die?”

“No, silly. Calm down. Remember the lady who visited us the other day, Lady Emma? We’re in her house.”

Jesse eased back on the pillow. “Are we going to stay here?”

“For a while. At least until you’ve fully recovered.” He pulled the covers up to Jesse’s chin, lest he feel cold.

“This bedroom is incredible.” Jesse gazed around. “You can tell it’s for a lady.”

Another reason to be bothered was that he was in her bedroom.

Her honeysuckle scent was everywhere—in the air, on the bedsheets, and even on the chaise longue.

It was like holding her. The pretty vanity with the perfectly arranged bottles of perfumes and creams was a further reminder of the intimacy of the room.

“I’ll fetch you something to eat,” Marcus said.

Jesse’s eyes flared wide. “No. Don’t leave me here alone.”

“I’m not leaving you. I’ll go downstairs to the kitchen and come back up.”

“This house is probably so big that it’ll take ages to go to the kitchen.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s downstairs. This isn’t Buckingham Palace.”

Jesse nodded, but his bottom lip quivered.

“Why are you afraid?”

Jesse tugged at his nightshirt. “It’s a big house, and I don’t know anyone.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. You’re safe here.”

The boy slid under the covers.

Marcus walked down the stairs but came to a stop upon hearing voices coming from the dining room.

“I don’t understand why they’re here.” That was Trevor.

“I had to send for Sir Paul,” Emma said. “The poor boy was feverish.”

“You could have…” The rest of Trevor’s sentence became unintelligible as he lowered his voice to a whisper.

“Honestly, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” She sounded annoyed. “You’re overreacting. As usual.”

“I just want you to inform me when you make decisions that matter to both of us, you know, as if we were a family.”

“You make a lot of decisions without telling me anything.”

“So this is revenge.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

Marcus walked down the rest of the steps and made his presence evident in the dining room. If Trevor had something to say, then he should have a normal conversation with Marcus.

“Good morning.” Marcus bowed. “My lord, my lady.”

The scent of eggs, freshly baked bread, and kippers tickled his appetite. Emma, in a lovely yellow morning dress, was the best cure for his headache.

Her cheeks flushed, and she found her cup of tea suddenly fascinating. He pretended not to notice.

“Marcus.” Trevor straightened. “Emma was telling me about your misadventure. I hope you and your friend are well.”

“Very well, thanks to Lady Emma and her generosity.”

“How’s Jesse?” she asked, putting down her cup of tea.

“No fever for now. I was wondering if he could have some breakfast.”

“By all means.” She nodded at the footman, and Stewart arrived a moment later.

“My lady.” The butler bowed.

“Ask Mrs. Daubney to prepare a breakfast tray for Jesse and Mr. Kingston, please.”

“Of course, my lady.” Stewart gave Marcus a nod. “Mr. Kingston.”

He returned the greeting. And then he had no reason to stay in the dining room unless he wanted a confrontation. Thinking about Emma’s shocked face when he’d asked her if he could kiss her didn’t help him feel better. And Trevor didn’t add anything else.

“I’ll get back to Jesse,” he said.

“Wait. I’ll come with you.” She folded her napkin on the table.

Trevor slanted her a glare but didn’t say anything.

Marcus would make clear he wasn’t the same man from five years ago. The loner, the quiet young man he’d been before didn’t exist. He’d died on the streets and in the ladies’ beds. “Is something the matter, my lord?”

“Not at all.” Trevor rose. “And you can call me Trevor, as you’ve always done.”

“And you can be honest with me, as you’ve always been.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?” Trevor’s tone changed.

“Yes,” Marcus replied.

Instant tension sparked.

“Gentlemen, please.” Emma gave a shake of her head at her brother. “What matters now is that Jesse recovers quickly. We can discuss anything else later.”

Trevor sat down again. “Fine by me, but I’m not a liar. I’m a gentleman.”

“Which sometimes is the same thing,” he said.

Oddly enough, Trevor regarded him with interest. “I often wonder if people use rudeness as a substitute for wit.”

“If we keep conversing, you might find that out.” He could go on for hours.

Emma raised a finger when Trevor was about to reply. “This is not the right time. Please, both of you.”

Trevor picked up a copy of The Times from the tray, hiding himself.

She beckoned Marcus to follow her and went up the stairs with a nervous twitch in her steps. “Don’t mind Trevor.”

“I guess he isn’t happy to have us here.”

“Of course he is.”

“I heard your conversation. I didn’t mean to, but Trevor’s words were clear.”

At the landing, she stopped and faced him.

“Trust me. Trevor didn’t mean anything with those words.

I know him. He grumbles about any change at first. I ordered a new carpet, and he had a fit.

I changed the menu, and he accused me of hating him.

The last time I rearranged the shelves in the library, he refused to talk to me for two days.

Being annoyed at everything is his first reaction.

Do as I do—ignore him. As I said, I think we should think only of Jesse. ”

“You’re right.”

Jesse sat up in the bed when Marcus entered with Emma. He shifted his gaze from him to her as if worried they might take him away.

“Do I need to leave?” He lifted the covers.

“Not at all. Good morning. How do you feel?” Emma smiled, but Jesse didn’t smile back.

He said something, but since he pressed the hem of the quilt against his mouth, his words couldn’t be heard.

Marcus lowered Jesse’s hands and the quilt. “What is it?”

Jesse swallowed. “I’m very well. Thank you, my lady.”

Emma touched his forehead, and his eyes fluttered wide. “No fever, but your voice is raspy. Your throat must hurt.”

“A little.”

Right then, a maid entered, pushing a buffet trolley loaded with food. There was a bowl of soup, rye bread, scones, butter, porridge, and kippers. Marcus’s stomach gave a loud roar. Emma glanced his way but didn’t say anything.

“Blimey!” Jesse said, following the tray with his gaze. “Is that food all for us?”

“Yes,” Emma said. “Mrs. Daubney wasn’t sure what you would like.”

“I’m not picky. As long as it’s food, I’m happy.” Jesse shifted his position, his chest rising quickly. “Is it for the whole week? We’ll split it carefully, my lady.”

“No.” Emma frowned. “This is only breakfast. You need your strength, Jesse. A fresh meal will be served for lunch and supper.”

Jesse’s jaw dropped open. Even Marcus was impressed. He hadn’t seen such abundance in years.

“Well.” Emma flashed a smile that seemed forced. “Enjoy. I’ll see you later.”

The moment she shut the door, Jesse shoved aside the covers and threw himself over the tray. “Just in case she changes her mind, I’ll finish the lot.”

“Not so fast.” Marcus took his arm. “You’re still recovering and need to eat slowly, or you’ll have a stomach ache.”

Jesse didn’t listen. He stuffed his mouth with a large piece of a scone, a generous spoonful of eggs, and some kipper.

Marcus clapped his back when he started to cough. “I told you. Slowly.”

Eyes watering, Jesse sipped some tea and swallowed hard. “When will another occasion like this happen?”

He wiped a few crumbs from the bed with a napkin. “Every day, if I start working for Lady Emma and the earl. There’s no need to gorge yourself.”

“Will you work for them?” Jesse paused, halfway to devouring a slice of bread.

“Yes, I will.”

“You didn’t want to.”

“I changed my mind. The salary is too generous to refuse.”

Jesse hugged him, saying something unintelligible because his mouth was full. Marcus hugged him back.

He didn’t need to live in Emma’s house for longer than necessary. With that salary, he could afford a nice flat for Jesse and himself.

And Trevor could keep his opinions.

Marcus admitted to a spot of uneasiness when he knocked on the door to Trevor’s study. The fact he wasn’t welcome in the house made him feel no different from when he was with one of his ladies. Except the pay was better, and he didn’t have to remove his clothes.

“Come in,” Trevor said from the other side.

He took a deep breath and entered. His heart gave a kick when he looked at Emma sitting in front of the desk. Sooner or later, he would get used to seeing her.

With the sunlight lighting her from behind, a golden halo formed around her hair. A familiar shiver he hadn’t experienced in years danced on his skin as if no time had passed or nothing had happened since the last time he’d seen her.

His heart still remembered the time when she’d kissed his cheek or when they’d hugged each other.

“I hope Jesse is fine,” Emma said.

“Thank you for taking care of him. I believe he would have died without your help.”

Trevor nodded and gestured at the stuffed chair in front of his large oak desk. “Take a seat.”

Marcus did as told.

Trevor cleared his throat. “So Emma told me you changed your mind about working with us.”

“I did.”

Trevor took out a leather folder from a drawer and put it on the desk.

“This folder is one of the many that contain all the papers and reports regarding the homes we’re building in St. Giles.

You might want to start reading them before we take you to the construction site.

” He paused. “I suppose you’ll need a week or two before you recover your full strength, too.

Enough time for you to read everything.”

“Excuse me?” Marcus leant forwards.

“Trevor.” Emma squared her shoulders.

Trevor frowned. “I didn’t say anything offensive. You’re quite pale, Marcus, and with signs of exhaustion. I’m not a physician—”

“I can take care of myself,” Marcus said.

Trevor narrowed his eyes. “But even I can tell you need rest. And I would like to ask Sir Paul to visit you.”

“Why?” Marcus and Emma asked together.

“Why not?” Trevor rebuked.

“I’m fine.” Marcus closed his fists.

“Well,” she said. “Marcus will need some time to study the documents anyway. So he’ll have the opportunity to rest.”

“I’m all right.” Marcus wasn’t sure why his voice sounded so strained or why Trevor’s remark upset him so much, but for some reason, all the fuss about his well-being and the comments annoyed him.

They had no idea what he had to endure in the past years. From starvation to humiliation, he’d survived dark days. His well-being wasn’t any of their concern.

“We’re worried about you. That’s all,” Emma said in a low tone. “We don’t mean any offence.”

He took another deep breath, wondering why the hell he was so upset.

Emma had done nothing but be kind to him and Jesse, and he had a good, honest job, thanks to her.

His ladies had treated him worse than that, ordering him around and sometimes enjoying humiliating him.

Still, he felt as if he were soliciting himself all over again, because he was out of place, and he didn’t like the feeling.

“I’m grateful for everything you’ve done so far for me, and I appreciate your concern.

But you don’t need to take care of me or worry about my health.

After all, I’ve been on my own in the past years and survived.

” He grabbed the folder and stood up. “I’ll start immediately. Thank you, my lord, my lady.”

He bowed and strode out of the room, carrying his annoyance with him.