Page 22 of To Tempt Lady (Victorian Outcasts #10)

twenty-one

After the disastrous breakfast and the endless conversation with Trevor, Emma went upstairs to Jesse’s room.

She had no intention of throwing out of her house an orphan who had barely recovered from a serious bout of fever. Trevor was the earl, and the house belonged to him, but she wouldn’t stay quiet, and he wouldn’t be so harsh as to disregard her opinion entirely.

Another sore point was the ball they’d planned a while ago. After the breakfast incident, Trevor wanted to cancel it, claiming the two guests would cause disruptions. She disagreed. What did Jesse and Marcus have to do with a charity ball? They were welcome to join the guests.

Trevor could argue all he wanted, but she would carry on with her plans and host the charity ball. It was a family tradition started by Mother, and she wouldn’t be intimidated by one of Trevor’s fits.

She knocked on the door. “Jesse? May I come in?”

“Yes, yes.”

Shivering, he shot up to his feet when she entered. His eyes were red and puffy, and her heart clenched for him.

“Lady Emma,” he stammered. “I, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, dear. I came here to see how you were faring.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Nothing terrible happened. I want you to understand that. It was an accident.”

He nodded, staring at the floor.

“Will I see you at lunch? Mrs. Daubney told me you asked her if you could eat in the kitchen.”

He nodded.

“So I’ll see you at lunch?”

“No, I mean, I will eat in the kitchen from now on.”

“Don’t let what happened discourage you. I would enjoy your company during lunch.”

He didn’t say anything.

She wanted to hug him but wasn’t sure about his reaction. “Is Marcus in his room? I would like to talk to both of you.”

“He went to fetch some tea for my throat. It burns a little.”

Right then, Marcus entered, carrying a tray with a couple of cups and a pot of tea, and her hand—the one he’d taken quite fiercely—felt the weight of his hand.

The sudden hand-touching had been a bizarre moment.

In the midst of the chaos and the smell of bacon, their hands had found each other, and the world had stopped. A gesture so simple yet so intense.

Marcus cleared his throat. “Emma…Lady Emma.”

“I came to reassure Jesse that nothing terrible had happened and to give you both good news. We’re giving a ball for charity.” She smiled widely. “Isn’t that exciting?”

Judging by their serious faces, the answer was a resounding no.

Marcus frowned, and Jesse didn’t raise his gaze from the floor.

She didn’t desist. “There will be a lot of excellent food and music.”

“I’m too young for a ball,” Jesse mumbled.

“Yes, but…” Heavens. Her plan had backfired. “You could listen to the music in the parlour. And you can enjoy the food, and there will be a cake with whipped cream and strawberries and a sorbet as well.”

That got Jesse’s attention. “Blimey. I’ve tasted cream only once.”

She heaved a sigh of relief at his interest. “I’ll have a special portion of whipped cream and strawberries prepared for you alone.”

Jesse smiled. It wasn’t a bright, wide smile, but it was a start. Marcus, on the other hand, didn’t seem pleased at all.

“Will you attend the ball, Marcus?” she asked.

She knew he didn’t dance, but surely, he would enjoy a ball after so many years away from society.

He looked annoyed. “I don’t think it would be appropriate.”

“Why would you say that?”

He shot a quick glance at Jesse. “I’m not exactly welcome in society. Perhaps it would be better if I remained unseen for now. I can’t stay hidden indefinitely, but if I can avoid exposing myself, I will.”

“Oh, right.” She folded her hands in front of her and unfolded them again.

Jesse was indeed too young, and Marcus had been shunned by society. How silly of her to think they would be happy to attend her ball.

She should leave. “Well, I hope I’ll see you at lunch then.”

Jesse bowed his head, and Marcus gave her one of his enigmatic, intense stares that made her toes curl.

The more she tried to repair the relationship with Marcus, the worse it turned.

Marcus poured a cup of tea for Jesse after Emma left the bedroom, leaving a trail of her flowery scent behind.

She’d sounded so enthusiastic that rejecting her invitation had bothered him.

A ball. That was the last thing he needed. Finding himself face-to-face with his lady clients would be embarrassing, to say the least. Potentially dangerous at worst.

The prospect of whipped cream didn’t cheer up Jesse for long. He lay on the bed, hugging the pillow again.

“Why are you sad now?” Marcus asked.

“Whipped cream. Where will I find another lady who gives me whipped cream, even if I’m bad?”

“The important thing is that you didn’t do it on purpose. That would have been terrible.”

Jesse sat upright, hugging the pillow. “But I don’t belong in this house. I’m not a toff. I don’t mind staying with the servants in the kitchen. Mrs. Daubney is nice.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Boy, are you there?” It was Trevor.

Jesse pulled the pillow up to cover his face and shook his head. “Tell him that I’m not here.”

“We have to see what he wants.” Marcus opened the door. “My lord.” He kept his tone neutral, mostly for Jesse’s sake.

Trevor stepped into the bedroom. “There you are, boy.”

Marcus signalled Jesse to stand up. The boy obeyed, slightly bending over and still clenching the pillow.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” he said. “I didn’t mean to cause that disaster. I’ll be good. I promise.”

Trevor was wearing a fresh suit, but a faint smell of bacon lingered around him. “Accidents happen. I caused accidents when I was a child, too. Not that I remember any of them.”

If that was all Trevor had to say, Marcus doubted Jesse would feel better.

The boy twisted a corner of the pillow. “I’m sorry for all the food that got wasted, too. All that bread, eggs, and bacon could have fed a family for a week.”

“A week?” Trevor huffed. “Hardly. There wasn’t that much food.”

Jesse shook his head with energy. “No, my lord. If one is careful and splits the food into small portions, it lasts many days. Marcus and I have done that several times with smaller amounts of food than your breakfast. We still got hungry, but we had enough not to faint.”

Marcus rubbed his forehead, wondering if he should tell Jesse to stop talking.

“Faint?” Trevor sounded shocked.

“Fainting is worse than cramps because your head spins before you pass out.” Jesse nodded.

“And you don’t know where you might collapse.

A footpad might rob you where you lie. Not that we had anything worth stealing, but once, when I came around, someone stole my shoes.

Walking back home was terrible. My feet—”

Marcus cleared his throat. “Perhaps the earl isn’t interested in these details.” And they felt a bit too intimate to be revealed for some reason.

“I am, actually,” Trevor said. “Continue, boy.”

“My feet were all cut and sore by the time I arrived home. A lesson for me.” Jesse finally put the pillow on the bed. “It’s a shame you had to throw that food away because of me.”

Trevor’s expression was unreadable, like someone who didn’t want to tell a person he didn’t speak their language. “I’ll make sure that nothing goes to waste. Mrs. Daubney will certainly find a way to save the food.”

Jesse exhaled. “Good. I was worried. When I had cramps, I would devour everything, even if it was covered in dirt. I volunteer to eat the ruined food if Mrs. Daubney doesn’t know what to do with it.

A boy who lived next to us in Seven Dials once had a bad tummy because he ate a sandwich he found on the pavement.

But hunger is hunger, my lord. It doesn’t care about a bad tummy. ”

Marcus rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. Never would he have revealed those details to anyone.

Trevor regarded Jesse through a narrow gaze that could mean anything. “Well, no need to worry, lad. I doubt you’ll have a bad tummy from eating in my house.”

“That’s good to know, my lord,” Jesse continued. “Do you want to hear another story?”

Trevor gave him a graceful nod.

“Once, I found an apple, and I was hungry, but I shared it with a pony.”

“Did you now?” Trevor perked up.

“Yes, I love horses, and the pony looked sad, so I gave him the apple.” Jesse smiled. “He was a gentle animal, and you don’t find that among people often.”

Trevor looked surprised, or maybe Marcus didn’t understand him.

“Excellent story. Now, rest and enjoy…everything you want. I need a word with Marcus. Your room,” Trevor said and strode out of the room without looking to see if Marcus was following him.

Before closing the door between their rooms, Marcus gave a reassuring smile to Jesse who waved back without confidence.

“We’ll eat in the kitchen from now on,” Marcus said the moment he was alone with Trevor.

“If you feel more comfortable, I understand.” Trevor gave a brusque nod.

He didn’t expect any other answer from the earl. “What did you want to tell me?”

“As you must have guessed, your presence here wasn’t previously discussed with me. Emma made the decision without informing me.”

“Jesse was sick, and you weren’t here.”

“Yes,” Trevor said, “but my point is that we didn’t discuss the rules.”

“Rules?”

“The first rule is…” Trevor scratched his chin.

He closed a fist. “Yes?”

Trevor stepped closer. “You’ll keep your distance from my sister.”

That shouldn’t be a surprise. Trevor hadn’t approved of Marcus as a probable suitor of Emma when he’d been an eligible candidate. He wouldn’t approve of him now.

“I would never, ever hurt Emma.”

“Good. Another thing...” Trevor paused again. “Make sure the boy doesn’t faint.” He left the room without waiting for Marcus’s reply.