Page 28 of To Tempt Lady (Victorian Outcasts #10)

twenty-six

Marcus couldn’t find a comfortable position in the carriage as he rode with Trevor, Emma, and her lady’s maid to St. Giles.

Lady Beaumont confronted Emma about him. Likely, she believed Emma was his sole client and that he’d refused her proposition so that he could be with Emma, which was ridiculous. No lady client would ever let him stay in her home.

Or kiss him with such passion to make him forget who he was.

Cowardly, he’d lied to Emma that morning. He would hate to see the disgust on her face. He would do anything to keep his past secret for as long as possible. She didn’t need to know. Kisses were one thing. But he wouldn’t go beyond them without telling her the truth.

Lady Beaumont couldn’t be completely honest with Emma without exposing herself as well. She wouldn’t be reckless enough to blabber about her infidelity, would she?

“Are you all right?” Trevor asked. “You keep twitching. Please don’t tell me Jesse’s stomach disease is contagious. This morning Emma looked feverish, and now you won’t stop twitching. I’m worried.”

“Trevor,” Emma said in a warning tone.

Marcus released a breath through his teeth. “I’m nervous.” That was true.

“Sir Horace is in Bath this week,” Trevor said. “You can inspect the construction site without worrying about him.”

“That’s reassuring.” It wasn’t, but he had a job to do and was aware of the risks.

Emma’s presence distracted him. His thoughts kept going back and forth between engineering problems and kissing her. She didn’t want regrets. Neither did he. To an extent. He would satisfy her curiosity about kisses and touches without hurting her.

She smiled at him, a secret smile of companionship for him only, and his heart pounded faster, silencing his dark thoughts.

The smell of coal and horse dung became strong and pungent when the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the construction site.

In the past years, he’d slept in a rookery, and it hadn’t been a pleasant experience. Foul smells were only one of the problems. There were desperate people who would literally slit someone’s throat for a farthing.

The site was in a good spot, though, in terms of sunny location and proximity to the high road. He tilted his head back to take a look at the scaffolding and the skeletons of what promised to be strong townhouses.

The workers tipped their hats at Trevor and threw sideways glances at Emma. She attracted most of the stares. The advantage was that no one paid him the slightest bit of attention.

“Where do you want to start?” Trevor asked.

“The log to see which materials have been delivered, and then I’ll check the foundations.”

“Good.”

Marcus studied the structures again. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t missed the job.

For the first time since moving to Emma’s house, he didn’t feel like a fish out of water.

Emma had given up following Marcus’s work at the construction site after half an hour.

While she loved the project in St. Giles and wished only to help the people in the rookery, the technical aspect and the terminology were quite boring.

So she’d opted for a promenade on Oxford Street with her maid. She stopped in front of a milliner’s window shop displaying a lovely arrangement of velvet hats when Lady Redfern came out of the shop.

“Emma, what a pleasure. I was thinking about paying you a visit.”

“Oh, lovely.” She smiled although she didn’t fully understand why Lady Redfern was suddenly so interested in her.

“I wanted to tell you…” Lady Redfern gazed around. Her lady’s maid was a few feet behind, and Emma’s maid followed at a discreet distance. Lady Redfern lowered her voice and leant closer. “My husband is away next week. He’s going to Birmingham for work.”

“I see.” Although she didn’t. And who cared about Lady Redfern’s husband?

The lady gave her a pointed look as if waiting for Emma to say something else.

“Yes?” she prompted when Lady Redfern didn’t say anything. Why was she having only awkward conversations as of late?

Lady Redfern raised her eyebrows. “I’ll be on my own for four days. Is that clear?”

“Oh, you’ll feel lonely. You would like some company.”

Lady Redfern smirked. “Exactly.”

Yes, but what did Emma have to do with anything? She and Lady Redfern weren’t close. Surely, Lady Redfern had other, closer friends she would like to spend her time with. But anyway, she wouldn’t refuse her company to a person who felt lonely.

“You’re welcome to have dinner with us, or we can arrange an afternoon tea and a walk in the park. Or would you prefer going to the opera?”

Lady Redfern scrunched up her face as if smelling something rotten. “Would that be all? Are you making fun of me?”

“Good gracious, no!” She hadn’t paid a lot of attention to which entertainment was in fashion those days, but a nice tea party was always welcome.

“Then?” Lady Redfern asked with the tone of a governess speaking to a particularly difficult child.

“Er…a poetry reading?”

Lady Redfern huffed and inched back. “Truly, Emma, I’m disappointed to learn the rumour is true.”

Emma opened her mouth, an apology almost ready to leave her lips, but on second thoughts, she had no idea what she should apologise for. “I don’t understand.”

Lady Redfern shot her a glare. “Your attitude is rather extreme.”

Extreme? “This conversation is just bizarre. I demand an explanation.”

Lady Redfern’s eyes widened. “You demand? Have a good day.”

The shock caused Emma to stand there for a moment. Her attitude was extreme? And what rumour?

The conversations with Lady Beaumont and Lady Redfern stayed with her. She had nothing in common with either woman. Lady Redfern hadn’t accused her of blackmailing someone, but the tone and attitude were the same. And the whole story of her husband leaving her alone? Odd.

People gossiped all the time, and she wouldn’t be surprised if something untrue was being said about her. Still, the fact she had no clue about what it might be worried her. Marcus was again the only thing that had recently changed in her life.

“Did you hear the conversation, Gibson?” she asked her maid.

“I didn’t understand anything, my lady.”

“Do you know of any rumours about me?”

Gibson shook her head.

Huffing, Emma hailed a cab, more confused than ever about the two ladies.

When she returned home, Marcus and Trevor were already there and talking excitedly in the drawing room in front of steamy cups of tea.

“Any news?” she asked, still thinking about the odd encounter.

She was so annoyed she hadn’t thought about a safe place in the house where she could see Marcus alone.

Jesse was sitting quietly in front of the fire, munching on a biscuit. He smiled when she waved at him. His cheeks were less grey than that morning.

“We have news, and not good, I’m afraid,” Trevor said, “not for Sir Horace or us.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Those odd conversations must have put her brain in turmoil.

“I found several problems with Sir Horace’s work.

” Marcus went through a stack of notes. “First, I found structural problems. The weight of the house isn’t well distributed.

Also, improper shoring of soil, which again might cause the homes to shift their positions.

But above all, I think Sir Horace is committing expense fiddling. ”

“How?” She poured herself a cup of tea.

“He deliberately inflates the cost of the materials he’s buying to pocket the difference, and even worse, he’s buying cheap, low-quality material while claiming the opposite.”

“Heavens.”

“If he’s doing that,” Trevor said, “then why don’t all his buildings collapse?”

“Because he’s clever. He takes more risks when he builds houses for the rookeries, as in this case, because he doesn’t care about the people living there.

They would be less likely to challenge him.

The houses might not collapse, but they’ll crack.

There will be water infiltration and excessive humidity with the health consequences they bring, and other problems, like crumbling walls or even water contaminated with sewage, which may cause a potential cholera outbreak. ”

“How despicable.” She put her cup down. “So he tells everyone he’s doing a great job when he’s doing the bare minimum while pocketing a lot of money.”

Marcus nodded. “I can write a report about the irregularities I’ve found, but he might claim he’s aware of these problems and about to fix them. If we want to put him out of work, we need more proof. We need receipts, documents, contracts, everything he’s done so far.”

“I’ll talk to my solicitor,” Trevor said. “Thank you, Marcus. You have most likely saved lives and us with your work.”

Marcus’s smile was so wide and bright it changed his whole face. “Just doing my job.”

No, it was more for him. She was sure of that. It was a mission, redemption for his father, and maybe a revenge, too.

“You seem preoccupied, Emma,” Trevor said. “The walk didn’t go as you wished.”

“Oh, that.” She put her cup down, her mood still sour. “I met Lady Redfern on Oxford Street, and we had the strangest conversation. She told me her husband was away and that she was lonely. I invited her here, but she got so upset she left. Absurd.”

Marcus lowered his gaze quickly, flipping through the pages of his notes.

“That’s odd,” Trevor said. “Did she say why she was upset?”

“She mentioned a rumour about me and my disappointing attitude.” She huffed. “Nonsense.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll retire,” Marcus said, standing up.

“By all means.” Trevor nodded and shot a curious glance at Jesse.

“Jesse?” Marcus said. “Mrs. Daubney is waiting for us in the kitchen.”

Jesse slid off the chair without making a noise, his gaze on the floor.

“Perhaps we all could have dinner together, as a celebration,” she said.

Marcus bowed his head. “Thank you, but we’ll be fine in the kitchen.”

Jesse bowed and muttered, “Thank you,” before following Marcus. He walked almost on his tiptoes as if he didn’t want to make any noise.

Emma slanted a glare at Trevor. “What did you do to that child?”

“Nothing! The fact you think I might have done something to him is ridiculous.”

“He looks terrified.”

Trevor twirled his spoon in the cup. “He asked me, politely I must add, if he could have tea with Marcus and me. I said yes as long as he was quiet and didn’t cause trouble.”

“Or?” She balled a fist on her hip.

“I wouldn’t let him take tea with us again.”

“Trevor!”

“You wanted me to be more friendly and welcoming to him!” He sounded outraged as if he were the wronged one.

“Jesse is a scared boy who comes from extreme poverty, and you’re treating him like a thief.”

“I’m not, and I don’t understand why you’re so upset. Once Marcus finishes the job, which is going to happen soon, he and Jesse will leave.”

“Oh, not this again. The fact they would leave one day has nothing to do with our friendship. I can perfectly visit them wherever they move.”

“Emma, please.” He touched his forehead. “You understand the implications of being friends with someone like Marcus, don’t you?”

“Enlighten me.”

“He wasn’t thrown into prison for bankruptcy by mere chance. Somehow, he paid his debts. His father was accused of negligence and murder. He’s ruined. How would you explain your friendship with him?”

She folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t have to explain anything to anyone, and I believe in him. Once he starts working again as an engineer, his reputation in society will change. I thought you cared about him. I thought he was your friend. Are you?”

He reclined his head and stared at the ceiling.

“Answer me. Do you still consider Marcus a good man with a brilliant brain, as you did before the incident?”

He nodded. “Yes, I still think he’s an admirable person.”

“Then do something to show it.”

“What am I supposed to do?” He closed a fist on the table.

“Help him rebuild his good reputation. Help him get a proper job, instead of disparaging him from your high position.”

He said nothing.

She wasn’t sure why she was so upset. “You consider yourself a philosopher, but maybe you’re just a cynic.”

He cradled his chin. “Cynics were ancient Greek philosophers.”

“Yes, and they suggested that rejecting social recognition and materialistic desires was the best path. Maybe you aren’t a cynic, after all.” She opened the door. “I’ll have dinner in my room.”