Page 23 of To Tempt Lady (Victorian Outcasts #10)

twenty-two

By the time the night of the ball arrived, Marcus knew the building papers and reports backwards.

He’d seen Emma very little, and due to her errands and appointments before the ball, he and Jesse hadn’t shared any meals with her or Trevor, which was good for Jesse.

The kitchen was perfect for enjoying their meals. They could be themselves in the company of the cook and the servants, and Jesse didn’t have to worry about etiquette.

Marcus was ready to inspect the construction site, and a combination of anticipation and anxiety bothered him.

There was another reason to be bothered, particularly that night.

As he watched the endless stream of carriages stopping in front of Hart House from the window in his bedroom, he wondered if any of his lady clients would be present.

Lady Beaumont had to wonder what had happened to him.

He’d up and vanished from one day to the next, and he hadn’t checked the post office in a while.

There were other ladies who might be looking for him, and they could be there that night.

“Marcus, look.” Jesse waved him closer from the door opening between their rooms. “Look at this beauty.”

A large bowl filled with whipped cream and sliced strawberries lay on his table, looking like a soft mountain of snow. Impressive.

“Do you want a taste?” Jesse grabbed the teaspoon, ready to attack the cream. “Mrs. Daubney said it’s for both of us.”

“No. Enjoy it. But don’t eat it all. It’s too much. You’ll get sick.”

“Don’t worry.” Jesse picked up a strawberry and licked the cream off it. “So good!”

Marcus settled on an armchair in his room to read another report, wanting to be thorough and needing a distraction from his worries.

Muffled violin music and laughter came from downstairs. He wondered if Emma would dance tonight with a gentleman who might become her suitor. She hadn’t mentioned anything although he shouldn’t care one way or another. That dream was good and dead.

His mind enjoyed tormenting him, and he found it difficult to focus on reading.

The carriages had stopped arriving. All the guests had to be downstairs. He rubbed his tired eyes. He should leave Hart House and—a groan came from the other room.

Jesse shuffled towards him, looking green. “I think I ate too much.” He put a hand on his belly. “I have a stomach ache.”

Marcus lowered the document. “You ate it all.”

Jesse nodded. “I couldn’t stop.”

“Jesse!” He exhaled. “Cramps?”

“A little.” Jesse clamped a hand on his mouth. “The cream wants to come out again.”

“You’re nauseous.”

“I’m sorry,” Jesse muttered.

“I’ll ask Mrs. Daubney for some ginger brew and rosemary oil.”

Jesse dropped himself into the armchair, groaning.

“In case you feel sick.” He handed Jesse an empty bowl.

As he went down the stairs, the sound of the music grew stronger, and the scent of vanilla and cinnamon mingled with perfumes and expensive colognes.

He paused in the hallway that led to the kitchen when he caught a glimpse of Emma in the ballroom.

Pearls and gold glittered in her complicated chignon, and her gown was a triumph of white and light green silk. So beautiful.

She laughed at something the gentleman in front of her said. Her pearl earrings swung back and forth, catching the light like two stars on her skin. The layers of silk draped down her body, exalting her waist.

She was so beautiful that watching her hurt.

He had to remind himself he wasn’t a respectable gentleman with a good income anymore. If she learnt the truth about his past as a man-whore, she wouldn’t let him stay in her house.

He hurried to the kitchen, brushing past maids and footmen in a hurry to carry trays to the ballroom.

“Mrs. Daubney?”

“What is it, dear?” She wiped her hands on her apron and, even though a dozen unfinished plates lay on the table, she smiled at him.

“Jesse ate the whole bowl of cream and strawberries.”

Her gaze flew towards the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have sent him the whole thing. What do you need?”

“Ginger brew and rosemary oil.”

“Over there.”

He fetched everything Jesse needed while Mrs. Daubney finished arranging tiny sandwiches on a multi-layered tray.

“I’m glad you and Jesse are here with us,” Mrs. Daubney said. “Don’t get discouraged by His Lordship. He isn’t the same since Miss Ophelia broke their engagement.”

“He must have cared for her a lot.”

Mrs. Daubney nodded. “After she left him, he didn’t go riding for a month, so sad he was.”

“That says it all.”

To return upstairs, he chose a secondary corridor, not to walk too close to the ballroom and see Emma again. He sped up but skidded to a grinding halt when he rounded a corner and found himself face-to-face with Lady Beaumont in a flamboyant red gown.

“What the h—” The shock froze him for a moment. He went to return to the kitchen, but she tugged at his wrist with surprising strength.

“So it’s true.” She raked a slow gaze over him. “You live here now.”

Hell. He put the tray on a nearby table. “My lady.” He bowed his head, searching the hallway for Emma or Trevor. “I don’t live here. I temporarily work here.” At least that was true.

Her cheeks became the colour of her gown.

“You disappeared.” She placed a gloved hand on his chest, inching closer.

“I searched for you everywhere. Then my maid heard rumours about a handsome man living with bland, boring Lady Emma of all ladies. Other rumours claimed it was you, but I didn’t believe them. ”

He stepped back to get some distance from her, but she hounded him.

“I need to go,” he said in a firm tone.

“Go? You vanished without a word, and now you want to leave me again?” She pressed her chest against his. The top of her breasts was pushed up over the neckline of her gown. “I demand satisfaction.” She grabbed his crotch with a firm hand.

He winced and took her wrist. “My lady, I must go.”

“I’ll give you five pounds if we have a quick tumble in the drawing room.” She fondled him, and a cold shiver slithered up his neck.

“I can’t.” He removed her hand, suppressing a groan of pain as her grip hurt him.

“Ten pounds.”

“I can’t.”

“Twenty pounds,” she insisted.

“It’s not a game. I don’t do paid tumbles anymore.”

“Fantastic. I won’t pay you, then.” She went to grab him again, but he blocked her.

He wished anger were the only emotion burning within him, but humiliation won the race. Lady Beaumont’s behaviour was the result of his subservience and desperation. He couldn’t blame only her.

“No. I’m not interested.”

She let out a half-laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“Very. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to leave.” Holding her by the waist, he moved her out of his way, ignoring his boiling blood and the sense of shame pressing against his chest.

She was a persistent woman. “But you need me and my money, don’t you? We have a deal.”

“I’m afraid we don’t.”

She moved closer again. “You belong to me, Marcus. Whatever sum Emma pays you, I’ll double it. I would have never imagined that Emma was like her brother.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, curious despite himself.

“Rumour has it Trevor had a relationship with a prostitute.”

“That is none of my concern.” And he didn’t care about gossip. He picked up the tray again and sidestepped her. “I wish you well, my lady, but we can’t see each other any longer. Goodbye.”

And he didn’t belong to anyone. Only his heart belonged to a woman he could never have.

“Think about what you’re missing. You’ll regret this,” she said in a calm, cold tone. “And I don’t believe you. Whatever brought you to say something so awful to me, I forgive you.”

“You managed to contradict yourself four times in one sentence.”

He hurried towards the stairs, a sense of lightness spreading through his chest…at first. Then fear for his future gripped him harder than Lady Beaumont’s hand.

If his new venture ended up badly, he would need ladies like Lady Beaumont again.

He shouldn’t have been so drastic. Living in Emma’s beautiful house and eating regularly made him feel absolutely frightened of ever living on the streets again, which didn’t make sense.

He’d lived hand-to-mouth for years; he should be used to it.

But the comforts of Hart House made him weak and bold at the same time—weak because he didn’t want to leave the comforts Hart House offered, and bold because he would have never replied in that way to Lady Beaumont.

A groan came from the bedroom when he entered. Jesse was bent over the bowl.

“Here.” He gave Jesse a glass of ginger brew. “Drink it.”

Jesse scrunched up his face. “It tastes like the water from the Thames.”

“Maybe next time you’ll remember not to wolf down everything.”

Jesse groaned again. “What happened to you?”

Marcus shrugged.

“You look as green as I do.” Jesse swallowed hard, squinting his eyes.

“I’m tired. That’s all.”

Jesse put the glass aside to touch his hand. “I promise I won’t do anything embarrassing again. You don’t have to worry.”

“It’s not you.” He patted Jesse’s shoulder. “I’m worried about something I did in the past.”

“Your job,” Jesse whispered. “The one you had before coming here.”

He neither denied nor confirmed. “Let’s say I promise not to do anything embarrassing, either.”