Page 14 of The Widow's Scandalous Gentleman
“I fear,” Thalia said, her voice cool and controlled, “you have chosen a most inopportune moment.”
“Inopportune?” Marcus raised his brows, clearly perplexed. “But surely you see the urgency. Matters of such importance cannot be delayed indefinitely while you... indulge in whatever artistic fancies may be occupying your attention this morning.”
“The fancies to which you refer,” she replied with icy precision, “involve the discovery that our guest has been documenting the inner workings of thishousehold for the benefit of his family—who are, it seems, considering acquiring the property.”
Marcus blinked. “Acquiring...?”
She turned to Lord Jasper. “Perhaps you would care to confirm it.”
Jasper, his expression grim, inclined his head. “My family has indeed discussed investments in this region. Seacliff was among the properties under consideration. I was sent to assess—initially.”
Marcus took a step forward, the glint of calculation already evident in his eyes. “I had no idea the Vexley family was pursuing holdings in Brighton. How very enterprising.”
Thalia said nothing, but the warning in her expression should have deterred him. It did not.
“Would it be fair to say,” Marcus continued, addressing Lord Jasper with growing interest, “that your family possesses the capital—and the inclination—to purchase a place such as this, provided the terms were favourable?”
Jasper hesitated. “It has been discussed.”
“How fascinating,” Marcus murmured, his tone thick with possibility. “A solution of real elegance, if I may say so. Particularly if such an arrangement could ease certain... familial difficulties.”
“Marcus.” Thalia’s voice carried a warning that recalled their childhood—sharp, commanding, and edged with disbelief.
“I only mean,” he persisted, undeterred, “that if Lord Jasper’s family were willing to assume the burdens of maintaining such an eccentric enterprise, and you were to enter into a more conventional arrangement—say, a marriage that restored order to all this—everyone’s needs might be met. Even the residents’.”
“I am not interested in elegant solutions that strip people of their dignity,” Thalia said, voice low and dangerous. “Nor will I allow this house to become the pawn in one of your negotiations.”
Her brother offered a tolerant smile. “You may change your mind, given time—and proper incentives.”
Lord Jasper said nothing. His silence, at that moment, spoke louder than any defence.
Before either Thalia or Jasper could respond to this pointed remark, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor—firm and urgent.
Hopkins appeared in the doorway, breathless and visibly unsettled. The sight was so rare that even Marcus turned with a flicker of surprise.
“My lady,” the butler said, voice tight with restraint, “a gentleman has arrived with correspondence he insists requires your immediate attention.”
Thalia exhaled slowly, already bracing for what was to come. “What sort of correspondence?”
“A notice from the magistrate’s office,” Hopkins replied, his usual calm giving way to concern. “There have been formal complaints lodged concerning the operation of Seacliff Retreat—specifically regarding compliance with local ordinances on boarding houses and questions of... moral supervision.”
There was a beat of silence.
“From whom?” Thalia asked, her tone level but deadly quiet.
“The notice does not name the complainants,” Hopkins said, “but it references concerns about the propriety of housing unmarried men and women under a single roof, and the lack of what they term ‘suitable oversight.’”
The implications landed with the force of a falling stone.
“How very timely,” Lord Jasper murmured, his tone dry, “that such formal objections should surface now, when alternative arrangements for this property might serve particular interests.”
Marcus shifted, his expression neutral but his eyes alert. “If certain parties have chosen to raise the matter through official channels,” he said carefully, “then it would seem we are no longer speaking merely of private disagreements. Clearly, the matter has outgrown the domestic sphere.”
Thalia turned her gaze on him, unblinking. “Or perhaps it has been pushed there deliberately.”
“I only mean,” Marcus continued, clearly enjoying his sudden moral high ground, “that such developments suggest a need for swift, prudent change. For everyone’s benefit.”
No one spoke. The fire snapped in the hearth. Outside, the gulls cried over the wind-whipped sea.
