Chapter 29 #2
“It is what I know,” Lord Wembley seethed. “Amelia has told me much of their youth, how Lucy was always treated as the prize, the good daughter, she who Amelia could never hope to match. And now that Amelia has something that Her Grace never will, she cannot stand it.”
“Absurd,” Lord Whitcombe said. “Both my daughters were loved equally.”
“Nonetheless, she means to tear us apart,” Lord Wembley said, glaring at Marcus.
“In this instance, she has sent her husband to do so for her.” He laughed.
“Odd that you would agree to such things, Your Grace. Forgive me, but considering the circumstances of your own marriage, I did not think you would be cowered so by your wife’s antics. ”
A flare of anger rose inside of Marcus to hear Lucy spoken about in such ways. He curbed it, let it simmer, not willing to snap just yet.
Let the man talk… let him prove the type of man that he is.
“I am utterly ashamed that you have come here for such a reason, Your Grace,” Lady Whitcombe cried. “And after Amelia and myself tried so hard to fix our relationship with Lucy. We told you what she did…” She looked at her husband. “She kicked us out of her home as if we were dogs!”
“Yes…” Lord Whitcombe shifted uncomfortably. “That was… I have been meaning to speak to Lucy about such things.”
“This marriage is going ahead,” Lord Wembley declared.
“I am sorry that you made the journey for nothing, Your Grace. When you return home, please tell your wife that she will never tear myself and Amelia apart. Our love is too strong, and if she cannot bear to see her stepsister happy for a change, then that is her problem.” He scoffed.
“Truly, that she would try and ruin Amelia’s life like this is sad. I pity her.”
“Be gone, thank you,” Lady Whitcombe added. “If all your reason for being here is to try and ruin my daughter’s life, I want you out of this house. Thinking of it as returning the favor.”
“Your Grace…” Lord Whitcombe looked apologetically at Marcus. “It saddens me that you came here for this reason. Just as…” He looked at his wife who raised her eyebrow at him. “Just as I must agree with my wife. I ask that you leave.”
Marcus did not budge.
He looked with coolness and calmness at the small group, his eyes finally landing on Amelia who still could not bring herself to look at him.
“Lady Amelia,” he asked simply. “Is this true? Do you truly love Lord Wembley so?”
She said nothing.
“Amelia,” Lady Whitcombe snapped. “Answer him. Tell him!”
“Tell him, dear,” Lord Wembley cooed. “Tell him of how happy we are and will be.”
“I… I…” She stammered. “I… we… I am so sorry. Lord Wembley, I did not mean to tell them. I… I was scared.”
Lord Wembley frowned. “Tell them? What are you saying?”
Finally, she turned to look at him. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her skin was pale. She looked like a ghost, just as she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but in that room.
“You lied to me,” she said in a whisper, her eyes averted. “You said… you said it wouldn’t hurt her. You promised me.”
“Hurt her?” Lord Whitcombe spoke up. “Lord Wembley, what is she talking about?”
Finally, Lord Wembley came to understand why Marcus was there. He did his best to hide it, a quick glance at Marcus, an awkward chuckle, and then a shaking of his head. “I have no idea… Amelia, you are speaking nonsense. She is just nervous about the wedding.”
“She almost died, Lord Wembley,” Amelia continued, her voice still soft. “She might have. I… I never wanted that. I only ever wanted her to be happy for me.”
“Lord Wembley.” Lord Whitcombe’s expression hardened. “What is she saying?”
“I have no idea,” Lord Wembley dismissed. “She is rambling, confused.” He cleared his throat. “His Grace has clearly upset her. Be gone, Your Grace, you were asked to leave.”
Throughout this small confrontation, Marcus watched Lady Whitcombe, curious to see her reaction. As expected, she was as confused as her husband.
“Amelia,” she said. “What did you do…”
“Do not blame your daughter.” Marcus stepped forward. “Although her actions were undoubtedly ill-conceived, she was tricked and manipulated. And Lucy, bless her heart, insists that she is not to be blamed.”
“Blamed for what?” Lord Whitcombe demanded.
“Lord Wembley?” Marcus looked at Lord Wembley, now visibly panicking. “Care to tell them? Or should I?”
“I… I…” He started to sweat, just as his face started to flush red. “This is an outrage!” He was on his feet now. “Do not listen to what this man has to say. Tricks! Lies! He will stop at nothing to see this union ended!”
“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.
“Be thankful, Lord Wembley,” he said, “that I was feeling charitable. But I must warn you, if by some miracle you manage to avoid the punishment that you deserve, I will be watching, and I will be waiting.”
“As will I be,” Lord Whitcombe added.
The authorities arrived shortly after, and they promptly arrested Lord Wembley. He blubbered as they did, pleaded his innocence, but he did not fight them.
Lady Whitcombe stood with Amelia, her arm around her in support. And Lord Whitcombe stood with Marcus, glaring daggers at Lord Wembley as he was carted away.
“I cannot believe it,” Lord Whitcombe said once they were gone. All four of them stood in the foyer, and the atmosphere was awkward and tense. “Lord Wembley… he seemed so… so perfect for Amelia. How could he have done this?”
“I am sorry,” Lady Whitcombe spoke up as she held her daughter. “For all of this.”
“It is not your fault, dear.”
“It is,” she sighed, her expression softened and filled with remorse. “It is no secret how I have treated Lucy. Since I came into this home…” She shook her head with regret. “I spoke unkindly to her, and about her in front of Lord Wembley. This is as much my fault as anyone else’s.”
“That is kind of you to say,” Marcus said. “And I will tell Lucy you said so.”
“If she wishes to… to not forgive me, I will understand.”
“And me,” Amelia added. “I did this. I… I… Oh, I am so sorry.” She shoved her face into her mother’s chest and wept.
Marcus watched the scene with extreme reservation.
On the surface, he wanted to feel anger for these people. He knew of how they had treated Lucy for her entire life, and while Lucy wished to forgive them, he thought it absurd and not something that they deserved.
To look at them now, however, he saw the truth in their sorrow. Lady Whitcombe was not perfect, she never would be, but she was indeed sorry, and maybe one day she and Lucy could develop a relationship. What was more, he knew that despite everything, Lucy still wanted such a thing.
The past does not have to define us. It might force our actions, it might cloud our judgement, but we can overcome it. This here is proof… proof that I so sorely need.
“Might I make a suggestion?” Marcus started.
“This scandal, for that is what it will be, will not go away quietly. I recommend the three of you take a long trip, somewhere far from here, for at least a year. By then, hopefully, people will forget, and Amelia’s future will not be stained by this unfortunate event. ”
“That is a good idea,” Lord Whitcombe said.
“And when you return…” Marcus allowed a smile. “Please, come and see Lucy and myself. I know how much she wants such a thing, just as she wants us all to be a family.”
Lady Whitcombe looked skeptically, still unable to believe that she might be forgiven – that she deserved such a thing. But Amelia beamed, and Lord Whitcombe nodded his thanks.
It was done.
It was not the way that Marcus would have handled it, but Lucy had insisted, and for her there was little he would not do. And now that this was behind them, there was but one more thing that Marcus needed to do for his wife, and himself for that matter.
It was time that he put himself before her, asked for her trust and her forgiveness, and prayed that she gave it. Finally, he was ready to start his life anew, with the woman he loved, and he hoped that she saw the truth in this… and that she accepted him, once and for all.