A Runner's Devotion

Chapter 3

Marcus stood watching as Johnathon and Victoria took their leave. The girl was driving him insane. What was she thinking, flirting with a bounder like Danders? The spoiled and pampered little Lord was well known for his little perversions. Of course most young ladies of breeding wouldn't be privy to such information, however, surely Johnathon knew. He could have at least warned her away from the fiend. Unless, of course Johnathon was unaware of the man's deviant tastes, which may well be the case.

Johnathon didn't inhabit the type of seedy club's Danders frequented. Since marrying Shannon, he rarely went to his gentleman's club, he was a besotted man. Marcus himself, only knew of the man's vile tastes from his investigative work. He had followed many prominent men there on behalf of his client's. He would have to inform Johnathon of the man's proclivities, especially since it seemed he had his sights set on Victoria. Her innocent flirtation could very well put her in jeopardy.

"She is quite the beauty, isn't she?" Came a voice from behind him, catching him woolgathering, and immediately putting him on the defensive.

"What do you want Kensington?" He wasn't going to dignfy the question about Victoria with an answer. If the man knew what was good for him he would stay far away from her.

"Nothing in particular, just noticed you boring holes into the back of the lovely, Ms. O'Brien's skull. Thought I might inform you that people are starting to whisper."

"Let them whisper, why should I care what they think. Good day Kensington." Marcus said in a clipped manner. He then bowed and made his way out of the ballroom. He had enough of the ton for one night, and he certainly wasn't in the mood to spar with his younger half brother, who was now the Duke of Kensington.

The newly titled Duke had just recently been made aware of Marcus' existence when the former Duke, their father, had passed on. The current Duke hadn't been informed in some remorseful deathbed confession.  No.  His father hadn't cared enough to even acknowledge him on his deathbed.

After the Duke's parents had thrown Marcus' mother out in the streets, he found her and kept her as his mistress for several years, until he grew bored with her, that is.  He then left her for a younger paramour. It had broken his mother, as she had always thought he truly cared for her and Marcus, but he hadn't. He had left her without so much as a goodbye, or a care to raise his bastard child.  Oh, he had left them the house as his parting gift along with some jewelry he had given her, however once that ran out his mother had turned to prostitution to pay for his keep, and his schooling at the parish.  She had sent him to live with the vicar and his wife when he was only four.  He hadn't remembered the man that sired him, and he hadn't seen him again until he was fourteen years old.  That is when he found out about his mother's circumstances.  Unfortunately by then it had been too late, she had died, leaving Marcus all alone in the world an orphan.   He disavowed his father from that day on.

Then earlier this year, enter the the younger Kensington. He had found out about Marcus and his mother while going over the household accounts.  It would seem the young Duke was rather perplexed by the purchase of a cottage in the West End, and numerous entries of payments to one Miss Jones.  It hadn't taken long for the Eton scholar to put two and two together. After a few inquiries he had managed to track Marcus down. It hadn't been hard. After all one didn't need to hire a detective to find one.

The young Duke had come to introduce himself to Marcus. He wanted to know who the man was that shared his blood. Marcus, of course wanted nothing to do with him. He had heard about the young man's escapades, his rakish ways, and his temperament. To Marcus he was just like the rest of the aristocracy, excluding Johnathon and Alexander of course, they were the exceptions to the rule. However, the rest were spoiled and snobbish. They thought themselves better and above the laws that ruled Marcus' class, and they were for the most part. Nobody questioned them when they committed crimes or hurt innocent young women like his mother. His "brother" as far as he could see was no better, as Marcus knew of at least two discarded mistresses by the man.  As far as Marcus was concerned he had no brother, a position that rankled the man to no end. Men like the Duke didn't like being dismissed.

Soon after, Kensington started popping up everywhere Marcus went, simply to annoy him.  Of course it was usually at the worst of times, like tonight for instance.   He was in no mood to deal with the man's contemptuous and sarcastic attitude. So he simply made his departure.

He had come in a hired coach, but decided to send the driver on. He would rather walk back to his townhouse. It was a clear, warm night, and he needed the time to think about this evening's event's. Not that much occurred really, other than Marcus getting angry, and poor Johnathon having to swoop in and save the chit once again from his wrath. Her behavior was growing more unacceptable by the day.  By  ton standard's it was down right scandalous. She was out of control.

Of course, Marcus was aware of what the little mix was up too. He was a detective after all, and he wasn't blind. He knew she had feelings for him, he had always known. When she was a little girl he thought it was cute. He had ignored it because he assumed she would grow out of her childhood crush, but she hadn't. Instead she came home a full fledged woman, with visions of a life together with him, causing her to attempt every trick in her arsenal to get him to declare his feelings.  For that reason alone, he had kept his distance and acted oblivious to her schemes. It was the only way, because it wouldn't work between the two of them. Marcus couldn't give her what she needed most, his heart.

He had given it to someone long ago, only to have it ripped from his chest. His Jane had been the only woman for him, she had died bearing his child, and the child, their child, had died with her.   From then on he had closed off his heart and vowed never to let anyone in again, until a little slip of a girl entered his life that is. He had promised that day to always look after her, and keep her safe, but he would never grow attached. He had kept that promise, and managed to keep her at arms length over the years, until now. However, he wouldn't, couldn't give her what she truly wished for, not now, not ever. He would not go through that pain again. He would not risk another pregnancy, on another woman he loved, just to watch her and the babe die.

It wasn't just the thought of loss that bothered him however. It was something more that kept him from declaring for her. He wasn't good enough. He was the bastard son of a Duke and a housekeeper, turned prostitute. 

Albiet he was a wealthy man now.  Thanks to some smart investment recommendations from Julien, he had made a small fortune in shipping.  Although he was now invited into the best homes, he was still a bastard, and most of the ton still looked down their noses when he passed by.  Victoria, by contrast, was a lady through and through. Not in the Aristocratic sense, as with a title, but she was a lady none the less. Except for the brief time in her childhood, she had been raised as a member of the ton, in lieu of her brother- in-law, the Viscount. She had gone to finishing school in Paris, and traveled to India. Marcus hadn't even been out of England, and although he had received an education, it was nothing compared to the upper class schools, like Eton or studying abroad.

No, he thought sadly he just wasn't good enough for her. She would come to the same conclusion in time. Until then he would just have to watch over her from afar, because if her recent behavior was anything to judge by, someone needed too, he reasoned.