Something settled inside him. Quiet. Undeniable.
Nearly a quarter hour passed before a soft tap sounded at the doorframe.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon leaned in. “Lord Wolfton. A moment.”
Marcus stiffened.
She tipped her chin toward the pianoforte. “Continue, Miss Edgewood.”
Lila nodded, though Marcus caught the faint change in her expression.
The side parlor door closed behind them.
“Fenwick sent a note this morning,” Bessie said without preamble.
Marcus’s pulse struck once. “What did it say?”
“A request. For Miss Edgewood to entertain a gathering next weekend. Intimate. Gentlemen of taste.” Her mouth tightened. “I refused.”
Marcus exhaled slowly. It did nothing to ease the tension in his chest.
“He is testing boundaries.”
“Just so. Quietly. Confidently.” Bessie studied him. “Does she know?”
“Only that he lingers.”
“She is trying to be brave. And sensible. And invisible.”
Marcus’s chest tightened. “You cannot ask her not to work.”
“I will not. But I will ask you something.”
He met her gaze. “What?”
“Do you intend to step fully into this situation,” she asked, “or only stand near enough to look protective without acting?”
The question cut cleanly.
Marcus thought of Henry’s trust. Of Lila’s quiet courage. Of Fenwick’s smile. The answer rose at once with in him.
“I will step fully.”
Bessie inclined her head. “Then be ready. Fenwick does not lose gracefully.”
“I am.”
They returned to the music room.
Lila looked up at once. Her eyes searched Marcus’s face. She sensed the change.
“Are you all right?” she asked softly.
“Yes,” he said. “But there are matters we must discuss. Not here.”
Her breath caught. Trust flickered, quick and not without risk.
Henry finished the line with a small flourish. “I kept it all day.”