Page 42 of To Tempt Lady (Victorian Outcasts #10)
thirty-nine
Marcus needed a distraction, and the charity carnival in South London they were visiting was perfect.
Emma had managed to involve many ladies to set up the large festival.
Her hope was her strongest suit; it allowed her to overcome many obstacles.
The air was thick with the smell of toffees, nougats, and sugar plums. Happy music and laughter drifted from the crowded stands, and most importantly, no one stared at him or whispered behind his back.
Jesse pointed at a stand with a sign reading ‘palmistry.’ “What’s palmistry?”
“It’s a form of fortune telling,” Trevor said. “Someone will read your past and your future by examining the palm of your hand.”
“What?” Jesse stared at his palm. “I want to try.”
“Why? You know your past, and you’ll know your future.” Trevor waved a hand in dismissal. “Wasted time.”
“Let him go.” Emma poked him with her elbow. “He wants to try new things.”
“I want to try the ball in a basket, the ring toss.” Jesse rose on his tiptoes to see past the people in front of him. “And the shooting game, and Sir Horace!” He grabbed Marcus’s hand.
“Where?” he asked.
“Over there. He’s coming towards us.”
“How does he know where we are?” Emma stepped closer to Marcus.
“He must have asked Stewart. It’s not a secret.” Trevor straightened his jacket before moving closer to Jesse, and Marcus wrapped an arm around him.
A sudden lash of anger cut through his chest. One day, he might look at Sir Horace and not feel anything aside from disappointment, but for now, a furnace of fury burned inside him, especially after Lady Beaumont confirmed his father’s words.
Sir Horace walked against the flow of the crowd, gripping his walking stick hard.
He stopped in front of them. “I was looking for you. I demand—” He stared at Jesse for a long moment. Darkness spilt in his gaze. “You! The little thief. I should have guessed you sent him.” He reached out to grab Jesse, but Marcus, Trevor, and Emma moved at the same time.
Marcus pushed Jesse behind him, and Trevor blocked Sir Horace’s arm with surprising agility.
“What do you want?” Trevor asked.
“You sent that boy to steal from my house.” Sir Horace pointed a finger at Jesse.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Trevor huffed. “Why would I ever do that? And to steal what? That horrible green vase you’re so proud of? Or that disgusting portrait of you with a fake sword, in a fake suit of armour?”
Sir Horace shifted his gaze over all of them as if considering how much time he would need to kill them all. “You spread false, nasty rumours about me.”
“Believe it or not, we don’t spend our time thinking of you.” Trevor gestured at him to move aside. “It’s actually the opposite. We try hard not to think of you. Now move out of my way. We need to have our palms read. I want to know if we’ll ever get rid of you.”
Sir Horace grabbed Emma’s arm, and she let out a whimper.
“It was you,” he hissed.
“Let her go,” Marcus said at the same time as Trevor said, “Don’t touch my sister!”
Marcus was faster than Trevor and shoved Sir Horace, forcing him to release Emma.
She rubbed her arm. Jesse held her hand, his eyes filled with fear.
“You inspected the bridge.” Marcus moved closer to Sir Horace, not caring about the sheer anger flickering behind his eyes. “My father told the truth.”
Something in Marcus’s tone or attitude must have scared Sir Horace because he stepped back. “Your father didn’t understand that making money means to make compromises.”
“Thank goodness for that.”
“Your pathetic attempt at ruining my reputation won’t change anything.” Sir Horace shook his stick.
“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Trevor glowered. “Why all this fuss then? For the last time, move or I’ll give all the people here something to gossip about.”
“You tell him, my lord.” Jesse remained half-hidden behind Marcus. “I bet he doesn’t like horses.”
“Leave,” Marcus repeated.
Sir Horace gave them one last glaring look before he strode away.
Jesse released a long breath. “Thank you, Lord Pembroke.”
Marcus rubbed Emma’s arm. “How are you?”
She touched her arm. “Glad he’s gone.”
“We’ll make sure he’s gone for good,” Trevor said, offering his hand to Jesse. “Now, who wants to have their palms read?”
Emma would never underestimate the power of gossip. She drank her morning tea in the sunroom, skimming through the scandal sheet.
While she hadn’t been fond of the idea of Marcus having to deal with Lady Beaumont again, she was impressed by how the lady managed to spread some vicious rumours about Sir Horace. Although she wondered if they were rumours or not.
Sir Horace was now branded as a liar and a man who enjoyed harassing young ladies. In every fashionable parlour, club, and tearoom, Sir Horace was the main topic of conversation.
No one remembered that Marcus had been at the centre of another scandal a couple of weeks earlier. Exactly what she wanted.
Sir H is rumoured to have tried to steal the virtue of young Lady M…Rumour has it Sir H enjoys pursuing married ladies, as Lady J confirmed…Lady R accused Sir H of inappropriate behaviour…
The scandal sheet was an avalanche of gossip, nasty allegations, and rumours that bordered on cruelty. But without that, he would never face justice.
On the other hand, donations for the workers had poured in steadily at the fair they’d organised. They were still far from covering the salaries of everyone, but she was hopeful. Of course she was.
Trevor entered the sunroom, carrying a wide smile and twinkling eyes. He regarded the pristine table and stopped smiling. “Where are Jesse and Marcus?”
She lowered her cup of tea. “What do you mean? They’re where you sent them, in the kitchen.”
“No, I asked them to be here.” He turned towards the footman. “Neil, call Jesse and Marcus.”
Neil left as Trevor sat at the table.
“You’re happy,” she said.
“Very much.”
“Does it mean you’re a fool?”
“I wish you had never studied philosophy.” He exhaled. “I have news, but I’ll wait for Jesse and Marcus to be here.”
“Why?”
“Impatience is unappealing.”
She scoffed. “You’re impossible.”
Jesse rushed into the room, followed by Marcus.
“My lord, are you going to give the announcement?” Jesse asked, shifting his weight from one foot to another.
“Yes, more or less.” Trevor looked nervous. “Please have a seat.”
She stared at Marcus, and he gave her his lopsided smile.
“Are we having breakfast here?” Jesse took in the bacon, scones, butter, and kippers.
“Yes, from now on, if you like. Sit down. I have news.” Trevor cleared his throat and waited for everyone to be seated.
“The police found evidence of Sir Horace having exaggerated the expenses and bought cheap construction materials. My solicitor is confident Sir Horace will end up in prison.” He paused dramatically. “We won. Almost, but I’m hopeful.”
“Yes!” Jesse celebrated by filling his plate with bacon.
“That’s wonderful.” Emma took Marcus’s hand.
“But that’s not the good news. The police reopened the investigation on the Tay Bridge disaster.” Trevor became serious, but his face softened at the same time. “I’m sure your father’s name will be cleared once the investigation is over, and you can rebuild your company if you want.”
Marcus’s smile dropped. His expression became deadpan, and he didn’t seem to breathe. “What…” The word came out strangled.
“Marcus.” Emma stroked his knuckles. “You can start working as an engineer again. That’s wonderful.”
“It’s not all sunshine, though,” Trevor said. “Starting a new company at the moment isn’t an easy business. But with my help, we’ll get Marcus’s company back up on its feet as soon as possible. What do you think?”
Finally, Marcus blinked. He swallowed a few times. “My father would be happy. He would want that. Yes, I want to restart my company.”
Emma hugged him, and he hid his face in the crook of her neck. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” Marcus said. “Without you, I would have never started again.”
Trevor grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“What about the other announcement?” Jesse asked, spreading butter on his scone.
Trevor coughed into his fist. “Yes, well, Jesse and I will take a short holiday together. Now enjoy breakfast before it gets cold.”
“Wait a moment,” Emma said at the same time as Marcus said, “What holiday? Where?”
“Boring details.” Trevor waved dismissively. “We’ll leave next week, and we’ll be back soon.”
“Trevor, you must tell us more.” She glanced from Jesse to her brother. “Since when have you gone on a holiday? You’ve never taken a day off if not for riding a horse. Well?”
“May I?” Jesse asked.
Trevor sighed and nodded. “If you must.”
“Lord Pembroke wants me to go with him to a town close to Bath to meet a lady called Ophelia.”
“Oh, Trevor.” She touched his hand. “That’s lovely.”
“But why is Jesse coming?” Marcus asked.
“Company.” Trevor waved again. “Where’s my tea? Does anyone want more kippers?”
“Trevor.” She nudged him. “Tell the truth.”
Jesse gave him an encouraging nod. “Lady Emma will discover everything anyway. It’s better to be honest, my lord.”
“Ophelia likes children very much.” Trevor paused. “So I thought to take Jesse with me.”
“And?” she insisted.
Trevor’s brow lowered. “And we’re leaving. Where’s the newspaper?”
Jesse wiped his mouth. “I’m the poor, wretched orphan Lord Pembroke saved from the streets.
That’s what I’ll tell Miss Ophelia so His Lordship can win her heart back.
I’m practising my crying.” He started to wail and sob, mumbling unintelligible words.
“Lord Pembroke told me to cry a few times when I meet Miss Ophelia.”
“Trevor!” Emma shot him a glare.
Marcus chuckled, lowering his cup of tea.
Trevor avoided meeting her gaze. “It’s true. Marcus meets Jesse first, but he lives here, does he not? And he’s an orphan. No lies there. And the palm reader told me that my love enterprise would be successful.”
“You said you didn’t like secrets,” she said.
“When I’m the one who doesn’t know the secret, not the other way around.”
Marcus craned his neck towards Jesse. “Do you agree with this farce?”
“Lord Pembroke will give me three pounds.” Jesse smiled. “And we’ll go riding in his estate in Devon.”
“Oh, Trevor.” Emma shook her head, but Marcus laughed.
Trevor didn’t flinch. “Somebody told me love isn’t rational. I agree.”