“Lord and Lady Whitcombe, you do not know this, but last week, Lucy fell gravely ill.” Marcus ignored Lord Wembley as he spoke. “She fell into a deep sleep, one which almost killed her.” Lord Whitcombe gasped. “She is fine now, fully healed, so do not worry for her health.”
“How did this happen?” Lord Whitcombe demanded.
“She was fed a sleeping agent,” Marcus explained. “One that might have killed her, had she swallowed more than she did. And as we have both recently learned, this agent was given to her in secret by Amelia.”
“Amelia!” Lady Whitcombe gasped. “No…”
“I am sorry,” Amelia started to cry. “It was only supposed to make her sick. A fever! Lord Wembley… he said… he promised…”
“He lied to her,” Marcus explained. “He made it seem as if Lucy was trying to stop their marriage, so he convinced her to give her this toxin with the express aim of making her so ill that she could not interfere. However, as it now appears, his true purpose was infinitely darker…” He fixed his glare on Lord Wembley. “He meant to kill her.”
“No!” Lord Wembley cried. “That is a lie!”
“Is this true?” Lord Whitcombe was on his feet now. “Lord Wembley? You best have a good explanation for this.”
“I… Lady Amelia is mistaken,” he said. “I never… why would I… she is confused.”
“No, Lord Wembley,” Marcus said. “She is not. She speaks the truth. You tried to kill my wife.”
Lord Wembley looked around the room for allies, his eyes falling on Lady Whitcombe who remained seated. “Lady Whitcombe, you know I would never do such a thing. I… Lady Amelia and I are in love, why would I… she is mistaken. A misunderstanding. That is all this is.”
Lady Whitcombe looked at Amelia for a moment, her expression still cool. Then she fixed her eyes on Lord Wembley, narrowed them, and fire appeared behind those same eyes. “You disappoint me, Lord Wembley.”
“I –”
“I was pleased when you asked for my daughter’s hand. I thought you an honorable man. And while my relationship with my stepdaughter is fraught and by no means perfect, that you would resort to such lengths to see her end.” She flashed her eyes at him. “The wedding is off.”
“How dare you!” Lord Whitcombe stepped forward as if he meant to seize Lord Wembley. “My daughter!”
“Slander!” Lord Wembley backed away. “I will not stand for this! If you wish to believe these lies, so be it! I will not stand here and have my name tarnished.” He turned on Amelia and snarled. “I pitied you, you know. That is why I asked for your hand.”
Amelia winced.
“In truth, I am better off without you.” He threw a disparaging glare at the three of them and turned to leave.
Oddly enough, he seemed to have forgotten about Marcus. In his effort to defend himself from Amelia’s accusations, that Marcus was there had completely slipped his mind.
Not to mention the very real fact that his lies were up, and it was all but proven that he had tried to kill Lucy. How he thought he was going to just walk out of this room…the man has lost his mind.
Indeed, he stepped around the couch and strode for the door as if to walk right past Marcus. And Marcus, finally letting his anger boil over, clenched his hand into a fist, brought it back, and drove it cleanly into Lord Wembley’s nose.
“Argh!” Lord Wembley cried out as he crumpled to the floor. “My nose! You broke my nose!” He tried to scramble to his feet but Marcus drove his foot into the man’s chest.
“You tried to murder my wife,” Marcus snarled at the man as he pushed his boot into his chest as if he meant for his heel to touch the ground beneath his body. “And why? Because she embarrassed you? Because she chose someone else?”
“I didn’t,” he whimpered. “I… I… I am sorry.”
“You will be.”
All morning, Marcus had imagined what he would do to Lord Wembley when the man finally confessed. He’d imagined beating him to within an inch of his life. He’d imagined tying him to the back of his horse and dragging him through the street. He’d imagined… well, things far worse than that.
In the end, he settled on the right choice, the honorable action. One that he could be proud of, and one that he would be able to tell Lucy and one day James, when this story was repeated as it was sure to be.
I am a father now, a husband, and it is best that I act like it.
“I have already sent for the authorities,” Marcus told him. “They should be here at any moment.”
“No…” Lord Wembley moaned.
