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Chapter 22
Marcus didn’t pull away at first. He reasoned to himself it was because of the surprise, yet deep down, there was more to it. There was everything in that kiss that he had been missing when he had danced with Lady Helen. Where touching Lady Helen’s hand hadn’t given him a jolt of excitement or fluttering in his stomach, all of that was here.
Lost in that feeling, he ended up kissing back. It was brief, tantalisingly so, until he snapped his head away, backing up from Mr Blake’s arms so fast that he collided with the back of a daybed, coming to a sharp stop.
He looked to Mr Blake, seeing the delicate features of the young man staring up at him. He was still breathing heavily, but the cheeks were flushed an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, and the eyes were wide.
“I—”
“No,” Marcus said hurriedly, cutting him off before he could say anymore. “Don’t say anything right now.” His mind was having to work fast. On the one hand, he was trying to understand why he had felt a thrill from that kiss at all. He’d always been attracted to women, not men, so why had he liked the kiss?
He covered his face, trying to block out the sight of Mr Blake staring up at him. He’d heard of men who preferred each other to ladies. He’d seen many at gentlemen’s clubs in town. It’s just that he’d never had a single indication that Mr Blake could prefer men too. It was not a way of life Marcus could ever consider; he knew that.
“Mr Blake,” he said, clearing his throat and trying to keep his voice level as he lowered his hands from his face. “I am sorry, but I could never consider a relationship with a man.”
“Oh, you fool!” Mr Blake cried suddenly, with his voice much higher pitched than it had been before. The sharpness of the words made Marcus recoil back, but he just collided with the daybed again. “Do you truly still think I am a man?”
Marcus’ jaw fell slack.
Mr Blake snatched the hat off his head and ruffled his hair until it hung completely loose around his ears. Next, he threw off his tailcoat, rolling up his sleeves until Marcus could see the slenderness of his forearms. No…her slenderness.
“Y-you’re a woman?” Marcus said, working to wrap his mind around the matter.
“Of course, I’m a woman!” she said hurriedly.
Marcus turned away again, covering his face with both hands before whipping his head back round to her, unable to stay looking away from her for long.
“You’re not a man?” he said, realising it sounded completely dumb, but he needed to ascertain it again regardless.
“No, I’m not,” she said hurriedly.
“Then…who are you!?” he said, waving dramatically toward her.
“You nearly recognised me when you first saw me,” she said in a whisper.
Marcus reared back so far this time that he fell completely over the back of the daybed. She yelped in surprise and covered her mouth with her hands as Marcus struggled to reset himself, clambering to his feet, though he now had the settee between the two of them.
Looking at her, with those hazel-green eyes wide and the same coppery-brown hair just shorter than he remembered it, he could have been back in her father’s drawing room, watching her as she attempted to play the piano so awfully.
“Lady Violette?” he said breathlessly. She nodded slowly. “What in God’s name are you doing here?” He said with anger and reared forward. Everything he thought he knew about his friend had collapsed down into nothing. It was as though Mr Blake had become nothing but dust, and the person that stood in his shoes was a stranger.
“It was not supposed to happen like this,” she said, her voice strained.
“Little wonder there!” he snapped in a harried whisper. “God’s wounds! What did you expect from this? Having conned your way into my house?”
Her head snapped upward, and her eyes flamed with anger.
“I never conned you.”
“I thought you were a man!”
“In every other way, I was always myself with you.”
“Do you have any idea how absurd that sounds when you’re not who I thought you were at all?” he said, waving his arms madly at her. Her breath hitched again, and she took a step back. He could see now that she was holding back tears, with those hazel-green eyes glistening.
“Please, listen to me,” she begged him, but he was not really sure he could pay attention anymore. He turned away from her, pacing in a small circle as he ran his hands through his hair, the shock still coursing through him. “None of this was supposed to happen.” She hurried toward him, trying her best to face him, but he kept turning away from her, unable to look her in the face whilst his mind was such a whir. “I just fled to London to escape my life at home. I didn’t want to be Lady Violette anymore.”
“So, you became Mr Victor Blake?”
