Markham thrust the annoying curl from his forehead. A tick throbbed in his jaw. “The church records, did you check those?”
“Yes, my lord. They did look back through several old books and found the record of the marriage, but—”
Markham rose from his chair. “But?”
“But that was all, only their marriage date.”
“What about my birth?”
Joseph shook his head. “Not recorded in that book.”
Ice trickled through frozen veins, tightening a knot in Markham’s stomach. “So there is nothing there, no person to recall that night.”
“Not that I could find, my lord. Whatever it is that the reverend has claimed, I could find no proof to dispute it.” He sighed. “However, I cannot believe that anyone would believe this man over yourself.”
Markham could not chance that.
“Thank you, Joseph. I appreciate you taking the journey on my behalf. Please take the next few days off and do as you wish. You have more than earned it.”
“If there is anything—” Markham held up his hand. Joseph would give his own blood to save another, but in this, he could do nothing else. “Very well, thank you, my lord.”
Footsteps and a click of the door left Markham alone. He leaned forward on his desk, clenching his jaw against the choking fury.
Had the Reverend Parker come to Blackhawk Manor with his crazy demands of marrying his daughter and not held the signet ring, Markham would have never entertained the blackmail. The trouble was that his father had clearly believed the rector, perhaps was even in the room at his birth, and so promised the future union of their children. His father anticipated that a damaging scandal could erupt. Why else would he demand Markham wait several years on marriage, give the ring to the Reverend Parker as insurance, and then grow increasingly belligerent when his son married too soon?
Markham swallowed, thirsting for whiskey. He would never know the reasons his father never told him directly of these circumstances. Perhaps he feared some rash behavior, perhaps that was why his father trained him to restrict his emotions.
Markham rebelled against that training by marrying Emily. He would not rebel again. He saw no choice but to accept this blackmail offered by the reverend. He would marry Miss Parker as his father expected. He must do it for Lucas’s sake.
Seeing Markham’s study door firmly closed, Lizzie continued past and up the stairs. Perhaps it was just as well. She had no willpower when it came to that man, no resistance to his warm seduction.
Hearing voices outside, Lizzie joined Lord Alcott on the front step watching a stream of people move toward Hyde Park.
“What is all the excitement?” she asked, her heart still pounding from pervasive memories of Markham’s kisses.
A light rain did not calm the noise and energy on the streets. An air of anticipation filtered from the crowds swarming the road. Adults chattered and pointed, children jumped and twisted out of held hands.
He smiled down at her, his blue eyes bright against the grayness of the late morning. “Opening day of the Crystal Palace.”
“That is today?” She rose up on her tiptoes, but it did little good to help her see beyond the houses. Though she could notice several people atop their roofs. “Is there a parade?”
Lord Alcott chuckled. “Didn’t you know Queen Victoria and Prince Albert are coming from Buckingham Palace to open the festivities?”
A few drops of rain hit Lizzie’s shoulders. “Really? Then we must go.”
“No. You see how crowded the streets are with onlookers. Can you imagine the line of carriages waiting to get into Hyde Park?”
She sighed. “Oh, very well then. Can we go up on the rooftop to take a look instead?”
His fingertip brushed a bit of wetness from her nose. “Anything you like, my lady.”
Lizzie held her breath. Several inches separated Lord Alcott’s face from her own. His eyes twinkled in a way that made her stomach clench. She recalled Edmund giving her that look. A grin, a raise of the eyebrow, a glitter to the eye—it was the look that spoke of attraction, of interest.
It was a glance that Markham had never given her. Oh, he had been furious with her, befuddled by her, desirous for her, but never fascinated by her.
Lizzie swallowed. A shaft of sunlight broke through the rain clouds lighting Lord Alcott’s countenance. He offered an inviting grin, gave her a wink and waved toward the door.
“I’m following you,” he said.
But this new awareness of his attraction changed her mind. “I think I would like to go and see the exhibits another day.”
“Of course.” He winked. “Any day you choose, I will be happy to escort you.”
“Well. What’s this?”
They looked up as Markham emerged from the door. He stared at them with sharp narrowed eyes, the same as he did when Lord Alcott had asked her to the opera. If he were angry or jealous, it served him right.
“Opening day of the Crystal Palace,” she answered, lifting her chin.
“Of course.” His voice rumbled down her spine. “Had you wished to attend?”
Was he asking her to go along with him? Her heart blossomed with the hope, but then truth deflated it. He did not want her to attend with him. It was a tease. Always a tease.
Lizzie crossed her arms. “It would be far too crowded today. I’m planning on attending another day. Next week, perhaps.” She turned to Lord Alcott. “Would that suit you?”
“Absolutely.”
Markham uttered one of his growls behind her, prompting her satisfied smile. Whatever his schemes may be, he needed to learn that she would not bend to his every will.
“Now, if you two will pardon me, I have some children I need to see.”
Lizzie pushed past the grinning Lord Alcott and frowning Markham, hurrying inside to the front hallway.
Far away from Markham. Far away from Markham. She could not stop chanting the phrase. The moment she lapsed, her lips would be against his, her resolve would be crushed.
After notifying the coachman, Lizzie gathered the chalkboard, books and other items. It may have been nice to attend the opening day of the Great Exhibition, but she’d rather not have the pressing crowds. Besides, it would be a wonderful treat for the Long children to attend. She would set it up today and take them next week.
The waiting coachman took her items and secured them. Lizzie climbed up the steps and went to settle herself inside the carriage. Her skirt rustled in the silence but a spicy foreign scent whistled through her senses, making her mouth water. Then her gaze followed long lean legs upward until she caught sight of an amused smirk.
“Miss Parker.”
Her pulse quickened. “What are you doing in here?”
Markham lifted a shoulder. “As this is my carriage, I have a right to be in it anytime I please.”
“You heard me say that I was off to see the children at the Docks.”
“Perhaps I did. Certainly you don’t mind the company.”
Lizzie scooted as far away from him as possible and crossed her arms. “As a matter of fact, I do mind.” Stay away from Markham. “I don’t need your protection. And where is our chaperone?”
“I never said that you did. And the dowager is gone for the day and Lady Harkmoor has taken ill with a headache.”
Her face flamed. “And so you’ll ruin my reputation and yours by joining me. And for what reason?”
The vehicle set off and dashed Lizzie’s chance to be away from him. Now she was trapped in this small space, trapped with that enticing aroma, those bottomless eyes, those expert lips.
Blast that man. He was always outmaneuvering her, finding some way to be with her alone. What did he want from her?
“To kiss you again. You want to know why I wanted to come along. It was to kiss you again.” He didn’t blink or blush, the wicked rake.
Despite her better sense, her heart trembled. Within seconds, her mouth ran dry, as if preparing itself for his entry. Her
breasts tingled, hardening her nipples. The mere mention of his lips on hers sent her body into a chaos of pleasure.
Dear Lord.
Lizzie clenched her teeth, hoping it would put an end to this unraveling of her willpower.
“No, Markham,” she whispered, fixing her gaze out the windows. Anything but to look at him.
“No?” His voice was closer. “I see you plainly. You can’t deny your reactions.”
“Go away.”
“I keep thinking about the other day out on the garden terrace. I remember how you felt under my lips, under my hands.”
Lizzie couldn’t hold back her whimper.
“You want me to do it again.”
He was before her now, nearly on his knees in the swaying carriage. Lizzie closed her eyes but she could feel the heat from his body.
Seduction. The man was a master at it. He’d wormed his way under her skin, infesting her with his smooth words and warm touch. And like the flower or the tree, she’d succumb eventually. Only to be left exposed, vulnerable, weakened.
By the time the London Season ended, no man would want her. Having been ruined by Lord Markham, she would return home alone. Returning home ruined could not be worth this quaking heat in her veins.
She felt him shift closer to her face. “Kiss me,” he murmured.
No. This man had given her no reason to believe he’d do anything but seduce her. Never had he actually earned her kisses.
Lizzie steeled her gaze on him. A shadow of whiskers grew along his cheeks, his breath blew warm on her face. A twitch of his lips spoke of eagerness, anticipation. He really did want to kiss her.
Not today. Not again.
“Move away, Markham.”
His gaze lowered to her lips. “You don’t mean that.”
Lizzie drew in a deep, sustaining breath. “Oh, I do. You’ll not have my kisses.”
He sat back in his seat, but with an eyebrow raised. “Oh, I will. I’ll have that and more.”
Oh, would he? The more confident he became, the more she’d push back. He would have to prove his intent.
Lizzie sighed. “I hope you enjoy the trip into Wapping. Perhaps you’ll even help me unload the items I brought. Otherwise, you’ve certainly wasted your time.”
Markham held his wicked grin and spread his arms across the back of the cushion. “I never waste time.”
Lizzie shrugged a shoulder and turned to gaze out the window. Already they were away from those pretentious houses, filled with members of the peer enjoying their tea and scones. Soon enough she and Markham would be in the world of those struggling to work and live.
Markham held the confident grin on his face, though his gut ached. Once again Miss Parker had turned on him. Once again she refused his kisses. Had it anything to do with Alcott?
He clenched his teeth to prevent the growl. First the opera and now an escort to the Crystal Palace. What attracted those two to one another? He must break them apart.
Markham glanced at the girl. She was nothing like he’d imagined her to be. His first thoughts of her were as a simple girl eager to find her place in his world. A quiet, submissive daughter of a clergyman who would fall easily under his charming spell.
But Miss Parker was nothing like that. Feisty, rebellious, sharp-tongued and sharp-witted, the little pixie enchanted him. Instead of dreading the nights bedding her once they were married, he yearned for them. Dreamed of them. He was grateful that she gave no signs of pregnancy and yet he longed to take a closer look. He yearned to run his fingers along the sensitive nub of her navel. And—
The carriage rolled to a stop.
“Here we are,” Miss Parker said, gathering her effects. “Are you joining me today then? Perhaps you could give a lesson or two to the children.”
Markham grinned at her biting tone and stared at her pretty little mouth, those lips that tasted of the countryside. Right now he’d do just about anything to capture them again.
He straightened his clothing and lifted an eyebrow. “I think I remember a thing or two from university.”
A light of surprise flickered in her green eyes. She clearly had not expected him to stay. “Very well then, come along. There is much to carry.”
Markham held his breath as they unloaded the supplies. The stench down this alleyway could not be ignored. It amazed him that people lived here, that they could get used to the odor of rotting fish and sewage.
Miss Parker knocked on the door. No one answered but they could hear noises within. Someone was inside.
“Someone is always home with Annabel. Elizabeth refuses to take her to the factory after a baby was once killed under the machines.” A shadow of concern darkened her features.
“Perhaps they are sleeping. Is it unlocked? We can leave the items inside and go.”
Her lips thinned at his response but she nodded. Miss Parker opened the door and they stepped into the room, where the additional odor of boiled meat assaulted his nostrils. Near the front window a baby slept in a bassinet.
But someone else was home. He heard scrapes on the wood floor above them. Grunts echoed down the stairs. A man’s grunts.
“That can’t be Robert,” Miss Parker whispered, her voice on edge. “Someone else is here.”
She started over, but Markham grasped her elbow. He couldn’t allow her into any danger. “I will investigate. Stay here.”
He expected a fight but she held her ground. It only worried him more. It wasn’t very often that Miss Parker acquiesced to his demands.
Markham swallowed, cautiously edging up the steps toward the noises. He peeked around the corner and spotted two individuals on a bed. So Elizabeth Long was entertaining a gentleman in the afternoon. He had no reason to disturb them. In fact, it provided a perfect excuse to be away from this place.
He began his retreat, but a sudden movement on the bed gave him pause. Then a girl’s voice whimpered, “No, ye promised.”
A hand squeezed his arm as Miss Parker reached his side. “Sarah?”
Chapter Fifteen
Every cell in Lizzie’s body flooded with icy dread. Like a butcher’s knife, fear sliced through her. The stench of fishy water outside and unwashed bodies inside turned her anxious stomach into a queasy one.
Please let this not be Sarah, the fragile girl not quite yet a woman. Please, let this be Elizabeth or someone else…some babysitter from next door. Not Sarah.
The man atop the girl grunted his annoyance. Thin, dirty hair swept across his forehead as he lifted a gaunt, unshaven face. She could not see much else of him in this dismal, colorless room, other than a pair of bleary, empty eyes measuring her.
“Ah, now ye’s a fine lady. Come ter take ’er place?”
Markham shifted beside her with a quiet intake of breath, but said nothing. Lizzie’s pulse hammered in her veins. She struggled to keep her voice even, “I-I don’t know who are, but you need to be on your way.”
The man raised himself to a sitting position, his sweat stained clothing crumpled. “Nay, I’ve business ’ere.”
The stink of his body, his horrible breath, pushed Lizzie’s nausea to its limit. Quickly she swallowed the bile rising into her mouth. All she could see of the other person on the bed was a mass of tangled brown hair. The figure was too small to be Elizabeth, too thin and immature.
Please let it be a girl from next door.
Even so, such a young girl had no use for a man like this atop her. Lizzie bit her lip, emotions roiling inside like a witch’s cauldron. “I-I asked you to leave.”
He scratched his whiskers, the irritating sound vexing her overwrought nerves. “Not ’til I git what I came fer.”
“Get off.” Lizzie screamed, blindly reaching for him, but Markham’s powerful fingers clamped onto her arm.
“Do not touch him, Miss Parker.”
She wheeled around at Markham’s controlled voice. His impassive face hid any emotion as he stared at the couple on the bed. He felt no disgust, no horror? He certainly couldn
’t think they should just leave this disgusting man to the poor girl on the bed. Dear God, he couldn’t possibly be such a monster.
“Make him leave, Markham.” Her voice shook. “Or I will find a way.”
Markham pulled her close to his side, his strong body a welcome sign of comfort. “You heard the lady. Out with you.”
“Nay,” the man on the bed replied, crossing his arms. “I’ll not be going ’til I git what I’m owed.”
Hysteria pounded in her temples. “Get out, you lecher.”
The man narrowed his eyes but then rose from the bed. Evidence of his lust and its implication, apparent within the crumpled trousers, sent cramps spasming through her gut.
Oh God, what if they hadn’t walked in?
“No!”
All heads turned to the voice from the bed. The girl pushed her snarled hair aside. The pallid face and haunted eyes of Sarah appeared. Lizzie’s lungs tightened, she gasped for air, but felt nothing but crushing blackness.
“Ye can’t make ’im leave.”
Lizzie found her breath, twisted from Markham’s grasp, then dropped on her knees next to the bed. “You…you can’t mean that, Sarah. This man is a perverted lecher preying on a child.”
Sarah rose to her elbow, the tattered and threadbare blanket slipping to the floor. “I’m bloody well not a child and…” her lip trembled, her terrorized eyes betrayed her bravado.
“And what? Did he offer you money? Is your body and soul worth a few coins?” Lizzie’s throat closed in, choking her.
Sarah sniffled, then swallowed. “Ye don’t understand. The rent. We owe and…”
“Ye see,” the man said with a leering grin, “she don’t want me ter go.”
“There must be other ways.”
Markham’s grumble vibrated behind her. “You are finished here today.”
“They owe me rent. She pays or they go.”
Lizzie spun to look at Markham. He must help them. He could take them from this place, find them better work. Sarah would not become another child prostitute.
“Markham?” She glanced up at him. Other than a slight ruddiness in his cheeks, he revealed no emotion. No anger, no disgust, no sadness. But he must be affected by this situation. Or had the man completely hardened his heart against everything?
A Tarnished Heart Page 14
