Far Beyond Scandalous (15 page)

"That is, indeed, good to
hear.
 
It makes a gentleman feel
special."

Whirling around, Amy wasn't
completely surprised to see Gibson there at such an early hour.
 
He had said he was making a commitment to
the Cheltenham family, after all.
 
He
hadn't told her he was an expert at sneaking up on people, however.

Adopting a slightly haughty air,
Amy tilted her head and graced Gibson with her most officious "lady of the
manor" look.
 
No need to let her
mother know just yet how deeply her feelings for the doctor ran.
 
"Heard that, did you?"
 
That earned Amy a slap on the hand from her
mother, but Gibson only laughed.

That sound warmed Amy to the tips
of her toes, and she prayed that no one else noticed.

"In time, you will find that I
hear everything, my lady."
 
Then he
looked at Thea, his face nothing but concern.
 
"Countess, how are you feeling today?
 
Better than yesterday, I hope."

"Better," she sighed,
though Amy noted that her mother's voice was not as strong as it had been
earlier, before their disagreement.
 
She
felt extremely guilty about that.
 
"Tired."

Approaching the bed, Gibson put
down his bag and began to examine Thea.
 
"That is good news, Countess.
 
Truly.
 
Better than I had hoped
for not more than a few short days ago."
 
Then he graced Thea with that sinfully handsome and seductive smile, the
one that Amy now knew by heart.
 
"Perhaps we can start reducing your laudanum today.
 
It would be a very good thing if we
could.
 
I do not want you to become
dependent on it."
 
Then he turned
to Amy with his next request.
 
"Is
there any honey in the house?"

"I believe so.
 
I will have to check with Cook."
 
Amy was more than a little bewildered at the
request, not to mention a bit impatient.
 
She had hoped to speak privately with Gibson this morning, not run
errands.
 
However, if the honey was for
her mother, she would not hesitate to do as he requested.
 
"Why do you ask?"

Gibson gestured to the cut on her
mother's head where she had struck a side table when she had collapsed at the
Fairhill's ball.
 
"The injury is
looking a bit red at the edges, I fear, and honey is an excellent way to ward
off infection."

Were it another physician, Amy
would have questioned such an odd request.
 
This, however, was Gibson, and, as she had just informed her mother, she
trusted him implicitly.
 
"I shall
see to it, Doctor."

Gibson nodded at her and then
turned back to Thea, as if dismissing Amy.
 
Then, he glanced back quickly at Amy once more and smiled that same
sinful smile, only this time, it was infused with a touch of heat and
longing.
 
That
smile made Amy's
legs weak and her knees quiver.
 
He
wanted her, too, and her heart leapt with joy at the realization.

His voice, however, was calm and
unruffled, as if her presence didn't affect him one bit.
 
"Thank you, my lady.
 
I am very grateful for all of your hard work
and assistance.
 
I forgot to make
certain you knew that."
 

There was something in the look he
gave her that Amy could not interpret, but it made her tingle inside the very
same way she did every time she thought of Gibson and how magnificent he looked
naked.
 
Which was far more often than
she should.

As Amy swept out of the room to
retrieve the requested honey, she wondered how long she would be able to keep
up the charade that she felt nothing for Gibson, and that the most magnificent
afternoon of her life had never happened.
 
She didn't know if it was possible much longer.
 
They were both teetering on the edge of
reason, and they would have to fall - one way or the other.
 
Something was going to have to change and
change soon.
 
Otherwise, it would be her
and not Marcus that the
ton
would demand to have carted off to Bedlam
for insanity.

Gibson closed the door to Lady
Evanston's recovery room behind him with a soft click, careful not to wake the
dozing woman.
 
He had, in fact, reduced
her laudanum that day, much to her relief as well as his.
 
The powerful drug was addictive, and he did
not like to prescribe it for longer than was strictly necessary.
 
However, it was also rather effective in
allowing patients, especially stubborn ones like the countess, the time their
bodies needed to rest and recover.

Thea had, in her halting way, asked
Gibson how soon she might resume her normal duties.
 
There was a worry in her eye that had gone far beyond the normal
care and concern over an estate's management, especially for a wife.
 
Instinctively, he knew Thea was referring to
the threat against Amy, whatever it was.

Against his better judgment, Gibson
had confessed to the countess that, while he did not know the specifics of the
threat, he was aware of its existence and was taking all necessary steps to
assure that Lady Amy remained safe.
 
He
had detailed his plan to Thea the previous day, well before the excursion to
the theater, but this morning, the countess had practically all but begged
Gibson to compromise her daughter so that he and Amy would be forced to marry.

Thea's suggestion had shocked him
to his very core, and he had almost checked her for a fever before he decided
that she was serious.
 
And that she was
not out of her head with delusion.
 
The
Countess of Evanston truly did want Gibson to compromise Amy so that he might
marry her.
 
Quickly.
 
Tomorrow, if at all possible, had been
Thea's exact words.
 
It hadn't been a
misunderstanding.
 
He still had no idea
why she had asked it of him.
 
And that
bothered him.
 
Greatly.

It was the most peculiar and
bizarre thing, and Gibson had no rational explanation for Thea's actions, other
than that her brain was perhaps far more addled than he had initially
realized.
 
Yet otherwise, the countess
seemed perfectly sane and aware of her surroundings, her health, and the goings-on
of the household.
 
She knew the date and
that Prinny was in charge of the country, for those were among the mental tests
he had administered to Thea only a short time ago.
 
She had answered each question without question.

Was it possible the countess knew
of the attraction between Gibson and Amy?
 
Did she know of the afternoon in the summerhouse?
 
He thought it unlikely, as neither the
countess nor the earl had demanded that Gibson marry their daughter, and they
most certainly would have if the knew the details, no matter that in the strictest
sense, he had not compromised her.
 
She
was still an innocent.

Yet there was no other logical
reason for Lady Evanston's demands.
 
Nothing that made sense, anyway.

That did not mean, however, that
Gibson did not wish with every breath he took that he could do just that -
marry Amy and claim her as his.

In his mind, Amy already belonged
to him.
 
He had given her pleasure, had
seen the way her body flushed scarlet all over when she was aroused.
 
And though she would eventually marry
another, he knew that the unseen, unknown man would never claim her heart.
 
He would never know Amy as Gibson did.
 
That darkest, most secret part of her
belonged to him and him alone.
 
Even if
Gibson could not publicly claim her in the way he longed to.

"How is she?"

Now it was Gibson's turn to be
caught unawares as Amy suddenly appeared beside him.
 
He did not think he would see her again that morning after she
had sent a maid into Thea's room with the requested jar of honey.
 
However, it seemed that she had been lurking
about in the hallway all along, waiting for the opportunity to speak to him
alone.

"Better.
 
She is doing better."
 
He thought it best not to mention Thea's
current thoughts on marriage, lest Amy get the wrong idea, and decided to act
rashly and of her own accord.
 
"She
is recovering far more rapidly than I had dared to hope.
 
I believe that within a week or two at the
most, she will be recovered enough to resume some of her old duties."
 
He paused for a moment as he studied
her.
 
"I did not see or hear you
approach."

Amy offered what he thought was
probably her best coquettish smile.
 
"I am just as sneaky as you are, my dear doctor.
 
And twice as quiet."
 
Then she batted her lashes at him,
presumably for good measure.

Gibson chuckled softly so as not to
disturb the countess, not to mention that he didn't want to put additional
ideas in Thea's mind regarding the prospect of marriage and Gibson's
amenability to it - which he most certainly was.
 
There was no getting around that, at least not when the proposed
bride was Amy.

 
"Ah, there is The Paragon of polite society."
 
He leaned back against the wall, crossed his
arms over his chest, and smiled.
 
"I
can see why all of those dragons forgive even your most notorious
transgressions.
 
You are difficult to
resist.
 
Especially when you smile and
flirt like that."

"I try, Gibbs."
 
Then Amy's smile dimmed a bit as if
remembering where they were, and that her mother still lay abed.
 
"So you do think that she will make a
complete recovery, then?"

Gibson glanced away before looking
back at her, not wanting to give her false hope, but not wanting to unduly
burden her, either.
 
"I think it
likely, yes, as long as she does not overtax herself during her recovery.
 
One false step and all of her progress could
be lost."
 
He swiped a hand over
his face.
 
"Already, she is hinting
that she wishes to resume her normal duties, and I cannot allow that."

"I do wish we would hear
something from either Marcus or my father."
 
Amy frowned and shook her head.
 
"By now the messenger should have reached Bath.
 
I instructed him to wait for a reply and
then return as swiftly as possible.
 
It
is still early, I suppose, but not outside the realm of possibility."

"Patience," Gibson
reminded her as they began to walk down the hall and away from the recovery
room door so that they would not disturb Amy's mother.
 
"I scanned the daily reports from
Michaels before I came abovestairs this morning.
 
Thus far, all is proceeding as it should, the estate is in
capable hands, and I believe the stories in the society pages this morning
should do well to prove to whomever is watching that we are fulfilling the
terms your father laid out in that directive."

Stopping at the edge of the stairs,
Amy pulled them both back into one of the unused guest rooms, seeking a bit of
privacy.
 
She had to ask Gibson a
question that had been bothering her since the previous evening, one that she
had been unable to voice, even in the privacy of her own bedchamber.
 
It had kept her up until the wee hours of
the morning, and she felt it imperative that she have an answer.

"Why are you doing this,
Gibbs?"
 
Amy raised her hand to
stop him when he moved to speak.
 
"I know that we are friends, that we have kissed and shared a
stolen moment out of time, but is that all we are?
 
You risk a great deal for me, especially given your past, and
yet, you claim, on the surface anyway, that is it nothing, a mere trifle.
 
A favor for a friend.
 
Is that really all this is?"
 

She frowned again, needing an
answer to the confusion that dogged her every waking moment.
 
"Somehow, given what I know of you, the
pieces do not all add up to a whole.
 
And I, for one, am tired of playing this game.
 
We are open and honest with each other in all things but
this.
 
It must stop."

At first, she thought he would not
answer her, that he would deflect as he had in the past when he did not wish to
answer a question.
 
However, something
had changed between them last night after his confession regarding his family's
sordid past.
 
There was a new level of
trust, and, perhaps something deeper now between them.
 
Yesterday, he might not have answered her
question, at least not to her satisfaction.
 
Today was different.