Page 6 of To Tempt Lady (Victorian Outcasts #10)

five

Marcus didn’t focus on the chatter in the drawing room after dinner.

Once again, his father, the earl, and Sir Horace were talking about the Tay Bridge, its strength and its weak points; a conversation he should listen to greedily since Father was explaining why they needed to check the eastern pillars of the bridge, those most exposed to the wind.

But no matter how hard he tried to follow the conversation, his thoughts drifted towards Emma and the short, overwhelming exchange they’d shared in the hallway.

If he’d imagined she believed he didn’t like her, he would have done something to change her mind.

She’d sounded almost offended by his supposed dislike of her.

How wrong she was.

From now on, he would behave differently with her and take every opportunity to show her how much he liked her.

He put down his untouched glass of brandy, too nervous to stay still. Besides, Trevor had retired early, claiming the long ride had tired his muscles, and Emma hadn’t joined them in the drawing room.

“My lord, Sir Horace, Father, I’ll retire if you don’t mind. The journey tired me more than I thought.”

“Good night, Marcus,” Father said.

The earl and Sir Horace nodded.

But Sir Horace slanted him a curious glance, the same as he’d tossed him when he’d seen Marcus and Emma together alone in the hallway. If he didn’t approve of Emma talking to him, it was his problem.

Marcus crossed the wide room towards the door, but Sir Horace followed him.

He took Marcus’s arm and said in a low voice, “Leave her alone. She isn’t for you.”

Marcus slid his arm out of Sir Horace’s grip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you ruin our business deal with the earl because you pant like an animal after his daughter—”

“I don’t pant after her.”

“—you’ll be responsible,” Sir Horace whispered through clenched teeth.

“Nothing is going to happen, sir.” He matched Sir Horace’s tone.

Sir Horace glanced at Father and the earl deep in conversation next to the roaring fire. “I understand you. Truly, I do. She has a nice pair of udders to be so young—”

“How dare you!” He closed his fists, raising his voice.

The chatter on the other side of the room stopped.

“Is something the matter?” Father asked, craning his neck towards him.

Marcus didn’t take his gaze off Sir Horace. “Nothing, Father. I’m going to bed now.”

He strode towards the door before Sir Horace could say anything else that made Marcus want to punch him.

The footman shut the door to the drawing room after Marcus left. He started up the stairs, fuming. Sir Horace was worried that Marcus might ruin the business deal, but he’d been the one who had disparaged Emma. Bastard.

Footsteps thudded from behind him, and he paused, almost wishing it was Sir Horace again so he could tell him what he thought of his comments.

“Marcus, a word.” That was the earl, and it wasn’t an invitation. The earl slid into a parlour and waited for him.

Pulse racing with anger and worry, he followed the earl. If Sir Horace spread lies about Marcus and Emma, he wouldn’t stay silent.

“My lord.”

He clasped his hands behind his back. If the earl wanted to scold him about the conversation with Emma, he wouldn’t deny his interest in her.

“I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to have a quick chat. I gather you were an excellent student.” The earl lit a cigar. “Best of your year.”

“I was, sir.”

“King’s College, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you plan for your future?”

Marcus had no idea where the earl was going with those questions, but at least Sir Horace wasn’t involved. “Work with my father, expand the company, and take more work for the railways. They are the future.”

The earl nodded. “Good. You’re a clever man, and Kingston Sir Horace thought Marcus was only interested in Emma’s body, but her father was the only one who understood the truth. He had no idea what that meant about his behaviour. It certainly said something about the people around him.

The earl didn’t wait for an answer. “See, Emma is going to have another Season this year. She went out a bit late, but after my wife died, I became a lot more protective towards her, and I confess the idea of her leaving my house and starting her own family frightens me.” His tone became sad.

“I can’t keep my children home forever, but I can’t stop worrying about them either.

I postponed Emma’s first Season for as long as possible, and now I have to come to terms with the fact that one day she’ll leave me.

And your interest in my daughter is pretty obvious to me. ”

He cleared his throat, wondering why his interest hadn’t been obvious to Emma. “I am aware of my position.”

“I wasn’t clear.” The earl put down the cigar.

“My dear wife didn’t come from aristocracy, but her family was fairly wealthy.

My mother didn’t approve of our union. She wanted me to marry higher than a trader’s daughter.

But I loved Lucy dearly, and our marriage was a happy one.

Uncommonly so, I would dare say. She was pretty much like Emma, spirited but kind, lively, and clever.

” He paused to touch his wedding ring. “I’ve never remarried because I can’t. ”

Marcus didn’t know what to say. He’d always seen the earl as a rich toff who lived an expensive life, but at the moment, he was a widower who still missed his wife.

“My point is,” the earl said, lifting his gaze from the ring, “should Emma show interest in you, I won’t oppose her choice. I want her to be as happy as I was with my Lucy. She often told me to let our children choose.”

It took him a moment to understand what the earl was saying. He had the opportunity to court Emma should she wish so.

“Thank you, sir.” His voice didn’t betray his happiness. Perhaps that was why Emma had misunderstood him.

“Should Emma agree,” the earl narrowed his gaze, “I expect a one-year-long engagement, at least. No less. That’s what my Lucy would have wanted, too. You’re a brilliant man with a bright future in front of you. I think you would make her happy.”

“I will do my best.” Marcus stretched out a hand. “Sir, should Lady Emma give me the honour of choosing me, I won’t disappoint you.”

The earl shook his head. “It’s more important that you don’t disappoint Emma.”

“Right. Of course.” He winced inwardly again.

“Whatever happens, my opinion of you will always be high.”

He bowed. “Thank you, sir.”

Marcus walked out of the parlour feeling as if the floor were made of cotton. He would have never imagined the earl would give him his blessing. That changed everything.

The clouds hid the moon and the stars as he went upstairs.

Distant lightning ripped the sky with white fire, and he stared out of the window at the thick flashes.

No rain pelted the ground. For the whole day, the weather had taunted them with the threat of a tempest that had never come.

But the angry storm promised to hit Newport-on-Tay sooner or later, a monster waiting for the right moment to strike.

“It’s frightening, isn’t it?” Emma came out of the library, holding a book against her chest. “We’re on the edge of a heavy storm. The air is charged with energy, and yet it doesn’t rain.”

The scent of honeysuckle wafted from her bright red gown. In the light of the storm flashes, her skin looked translucent and seemed to glow from within. She was an ethereal creature, made of light and surrounded by silk.

Courting her was up to him then. If he showed her who he really was and how much he cared about her, she might accept him.

“The storm will hit us tomorrow,” he said, looking at her regal profile. “It’s gathering momentum. The sea is already roiling.”

She shivered. “I wish it would just vent its anger now.”

“The longer it takes to hit us, the stronger the blow.”

They watched the bolts crossing the sky like arrows of light, and for the first time since he’d met Emma, no uneasiness caused his skin to itch. Maybe the conversation with the earl had reassured him. Or maybe knowing the storm would crash against them soon helped him control his inner turmoil.

The wind howled as if to warn them about the promise of a huge battle.

“I really like you, Emma,” he said in a low tone. “Do not think, not for one moment, that I don’t like you. Giving you the impression of the opposite wasn’t my intention. I feel overwhelmed when I’m with you.”

He stopped there. Being more open was one thing, but completely showing her his heart was quite another.

The soft sound of her inhaling filled the silence between the booming of the thunder and the thumps of his heartbeats.

She moved closer, and the air between them was charged with energy stronger than the storm.

“Trevor has an excellent opinion of you,” she said, “and my papa often remarks how brilliant you are. I don’t doubt their opinions, but I know so little of you.”

“My fault.” He forced himself not to avert his gaze as he stared at her large hazel eyes. “I hope you’ll allow me to start over. I would be honoured if we knew each other better.”

His heart skipped a beat when she smiled.

“Of course, Mr. Kingston.” She curtsied.

“Lady Emma.” He bowed formally. “Enchanted.”

“I hope we’ll be friends. We’re going to see each other often.”

Being friends was a start. Not exactly what he was aiming for, but better than nothing.

She hooked her arm through his. “What would you like to do?”

He escorted her to her bedroom, blood pumping in his veins. “We could play cricket together, and if we break something, I’ll repair it.”

She laughed, as charming as a songbird. “Excellent. Which makes me think, can you fix knobs?”

“Knobs?”

She rose on her tiptoes to crane her neck right and left. “Would you come in a moment?”

“In your bedroom?” He wished he didn’t sound as shocked, as prudish as his Great-Aunt Anne.

“Shush!” She searched the hallway. “Only for a moment. I broke the knob of the nightstand. It’s a Thonet nightstand and costs a fortune and a half. Papa will punish me if he learns I broke it.”

Thank goodness his father had always insisted that he worked alongside the builders to learn new things.

“I can take a look at it tomorrow.”

She pouted. “It’ll be too late. Papa will realise I broke it. He never misses anything.”

“I don’t believe it’s appropriate for me to enter your bedroom at night, alone.” He wasn’t a prude, but the earl trusted him, and entering Emma’s bedroom sounded like a huge breach of that trust. Not to mention, Sir Horace might produce another crass comment if he learnt about that.

“Nothing will happen. You’re harmless.”

“Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Shush!” She waved him in her room. “Come here. You’ll alert the entire household.”

He did as told, muttering, “Harmless,” under his breath.

She gingerly closed the door. “I just meant you’re a gentleman. It’s a compliment.”

My arse. He folded his arms over his chest. She didn’t see him as a probable suitor then. Not even close. A friend or a brother was harmless. A person she was attracted to wasn’t.

He would have to do a lot of work to earn her respect as a suitor. A challenge he was happy to accept.

“Over there.” She lit a few lamps and showed him the golden knob lying on the top of the nightstand. “I must have pulled it too hard.”

He crouched to inspect the damage. “It’s not broken. The screw holding it went loose.” He picked up the handle. “See this pilot hole? The screw fell out. Did you see it anywhere?”

“Bother.” She searched the drawer. “Nothing here.”

She knelt on the carpet and touched around. He did the same until a glint of gold flickered from a corner.

“There!” they said together.

Their hands clamped on the screw at the same time.

He wasn’t ready for the touch of her soft hand on his.

They remained still for a moment. Even in the dim light, her flush was visible.

Her emotions could be anything from embarrassment to interest. But since he wasn’t sure, he’d better stop the contact.

He moved first, slipping his hand out of hers. The last thing he wanted after the conversation with the earl was to ruin his chances with Emma. He had to do everything by the book. As much as the earl showed his support, he wouldn’t be impressed by Marcus’s presence in his daughter’s bedroom.

“Sorry.” She took the screw. “I didn’t…”

“Emma? Are you still up?” Trevor’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Bloody hell,” Marcus whispered.

And here his chances with Emma vanished.