Far Beyond Scandalous (17 page)

Shifting her closer so that he
could press his shaft into her center, even though the thick layers of their
clothing, he wasn't surprised when she made a mewling noise low in her throat
and began to rotate her hips against his, mimicking the intimacy she
craved.
 
He would not take her here, but
he would bring her pleasure.
 
He could
no more stop himself than he could cease to be a physician.

"That's it, my love," he
coaxed as she slid her body against his, a keening cry building in her
throat.
 
"Come for me.
 
Please let me see you.
 
It has been so long since I have seen that
look of passion on your face."
 
He
rained down kisses on her face, her lips, her eyes, each brush of his lips over
her heated skin the sweetest torture he had ever known.
 
He worked his hands beneath her skirts,
dancing his fingers up her thighs until he found the sweet, hot center of her.

"You're wet," he
breathed, amazed that she was still so responsive to him, even after what she
had learned of his past the previous night.

Rising up, Amy nuzzled against him
and then seated herself more firmly upon his hand, driving his fingers deep
into her center.
 
She groaned and hissed
with pleasure as she began to move, her hips thrusting and her body writing
against his.
 
"I am always wet when
I think of you this way, Gibbs."
 
Her words might shock him, but they were true.
 
She was not nearly as innocent as he assumed.

At her words, Gibson moved his hand
faster, stroking her to completion, his thumb teasing the swollen nub of her
womanhood.
 
Her body bucked and shook
against his, and he lashed his arm around her waist to prevent her from
falling.
 
That would bring the servants
running, which was the very last thing he wanted.

Amy's head was spinning.
 
It felt so very good, every touch Gibson
lavished upon her better than the last.
 
She felt her stomach knot, the ball of pressure inside of her growing,
pushing higher and higher until she felt as if she was flying.
 
She found her release with a whimpering cry,
and a moan mixed with another cry of delight ripped from her, a sound that he
swallowed with his kiss.
 
This
,
her heart whispered,
was pure heaven
.
 
This was what she desired all the rest of her days.

However as she looked up into
Gibson's almost pained eyes, she knew that despite what they had just done, he
would not relent in the one area she wished that he would.
 
He would not change his mind about openly
courting her, and would, in all probability insist on returning to their cold,
polite friendship when they were in public.
 
That would not do.
 
They had come
too far, and Amy would not tolerate a return to such frigid terms in their
relationship.
 
That left only one
reasonable solution.
 
She would have to
court him.
 
And then, seduce him.

Society
Tales

The Falconridge musicale last
night - and for once, let us not hide names, for it would do no good in this
case, as it felt as if well over half of London attended the event - was
bordering on being considered a rather tedious affair.
 
After all, the illustrious Italian soprano -
and noted seductress - Miss Gianna Vienetti has been seen about town a bit over
much this season, at least in the opinion of this humble author.
 
Never mind that word has it that she is out
to snare the suddenly much-sought-after physician, G.B., and is of a mind to take
him to the Continent where she might wed him in a foolish plan to gain entry
for herself into polite society.

Last night was another example
of the woman's desperate attempt to use her wiles to snare the man, but all was
for naught, as the man in question could not take his eyes away from another
lady in attendance.
 
Could wedding bells
be in the offing for that couple?
 
It is
possible and, I am told by my sources, that his suit would be welcome, even
though certain members of society feel him lacking.
 
This author feels that the cries against him are all posh and
nonsense, but then, what do I know?
 
I
am merely your humble scribe, reporting what I see and hear.
 
In this case, however, I feel certain that
the attraction is there and that love matches are a rare gift indeed.

-Lady X

As Amy allowed Gibson to lead her
to the refreshment table at Lord and Lady Coleridge's ball that evening, she
was certain that every person who laid eyes on her knew with a single glance
what she and Gibson had been doing three days earlier.
 
She was absolutely certain she was still
blushing somewhere, even if no one could see it and even after so much time had
passed.
 
She simply could not stop
thinking about his touch on her skin or the way he had made her feel.
 
Cherished.
 
Wanted.
 
Loved.

Not to mention that the mysterious
Lady X was doing her part to fan the flames of scandal mixed with acceptance
surrounding her and Gibson.
 
That
morning's column had bordered on completely indecent.
 
Then again, what she had done with Gibson in that secluded guest
room was, in most circles, considered indecent by polite society.
 
It was certainly enough to ruin her.

"Do stop fidgeting,"
Gibson whispered in her ear as he offered her a plate and began placing treats
upon it.
 
"It is not becoming of
The Paragon of the
ton
."
 
He
softened his words with a smile, though he did mean them.
 
He was afraid that if she continued to act
as skittish as a newborn colt, someone would figure out that he was with her
for reasons that were decidedly not medical in nature.

She sniffed haughtily and selected
another delicacy from a different tray.
 
"Easy for you to say," she whispered from behind her fan,
"as you were not in my position."
 
A look of mischief lit her eyes, and he could tell that she was humoring
him.
 
God help him.

He wanted to offer her teasing
words in return, but just then Lord Drake strode by, and Gibson couldn't help
but notice the glassy look in the other man's eyes.
 
Drake had clearly been drinking again and would undoubtedly be
spoiling for a fight the way he usually was when he over-imbibed.
 
Gibson knew he would have to be wary.

Drake shot Gibson a dark look and
sneered in his general direction, but made no move to engage either Amy or
Gibson in any type of conversation.
 
From the anger burning in his eyes, he had apparently read that
morning's
Society Tales
column and had deduced the identities of the
amorous couple in question.
 
Not that it
was all that difficult, really.
 
Lady X
really did very little to hide the identities of those she wrote about.

Before arriving at the Cheltenham
townhouse earlier that morning, Gibson had paid a visit to Caroline to thank
her for the previous four days worth of "Lady X" columns, which had
done quite a bit to soothe the ruffled feathers of the
ton
regarding his
escort of Lady Amy.
 
He had also
requested that she refrain from writing about marriage and other scandalous
notions in the column, but Caroline had simply waved him off as she was wont to
do when she felt passionately about a topic.

With great glee, Caroline had
informed Gibson that she had managed to get word around to other gossip papers
that Lord Evanston, not to mention Prinny himself, would be greatly displeased
if Gibson's escort of Amy during Lady Evanston's convalescence was interrupted
in any way.
 
It was phrased such that it
was a threat in as much as it was a tidbit of gossip.
 
Given the surly way Drake was behaving this evening, Gibson had
no doubt that the whelp's father, the esteemed Earl of Tottenshire, had warned
his son away from interfering with "state business" as the entire
affair was apparently now being called.
 
At least if the rumors Gibson currently heard floating about were any
indication, and he suspected that they were.
 
The
ton
and its gossip mill worked far more quickly than he
remembered, it seemed.

If only his family had not lost
their title, Gibson could stake his claim to Lady Amy's heart and court her
openly this very evening.
 
Then there
would be no need for this kind of subterfuge.
 
As he had once told her, however, life could not be lived on
"what-ifs," and Gibson knew he was doing what was necessary to
protect her.
 
Despite how glorious it
had been to watch her come apart in his arms only a few days ago.
 
Not to mention how much he longed for it to
happen again.

He had to repeatedly remind himself
that her safety needed to be his utmost priority.
 
Not her sexual satisfaction.

The Bow Street Runner that Gibson
had hired several days ago had yet to turn up any information on a possible
threat to Amy.
 
All that the man had
managed to find was a vague reference to something involving her old music
master years before, but even that rumor was not specific.
 
Anyway, the man had died in an accident
shortly after the reported incident, and therefore, could no longer be considered
a true threat.

"Ahem."

That single word was enough to pull
Gibson from this thoughts, and he looked up to see Amy giving him a reproving
look, all she would dare in a room full of people.

"Lord and Lady Radcliffe have
been here for a full two minutes now, and we have yet to go over and offer our
felicitations."
 
Amy would have
smacked Gibson on the shoulder had she been able.
 
She wanted his full attention, not his polite and distracted
disinterest.
 
After all that had been
shared between them the last few days, including their magnificent interlude
abovestairs at her home, she had thought them well past this stage of cool
indifference.
 
Apparently not.

Looking around, Gibson spied the
handsome duke who was accompanied by his lovely wife of less than a year.
 
To look at her, one would never know that
Lady Julia Radcliffe was increasing, though the condition was fairly
recent.
 
As Dr. Hastings was the
Radcliffe's private physician, Gibson was also privy to that type of
information in case an emergency arose.

"My apologies, my lady"
Gibson said as he bowed slightly and then offered Amy his arm.
 
"We shall rectify that situation
immediately."
 
Moving as gracefully
as if he mixed in polite company every day of his life, he escorted Amy across
the room to her friends.
 

Memories of what he and Amy had
shared so very recently assaulted Gibson's mind as he watched her walk beside
him, making it all the more difficult to keep a polite and disinterested face
for all to see.
 
She was grace and
beauty incarnate.
 
She deserved all of
the accolades thrown her way, plus more.
 
He did not want anyone to guess at how The Paragon had come apart in the
arms of a lowly physician.
 
That type of
scandal would rob Amy of her rightful place in the
ton
.
 
Not to mention that it would cause her
family great distress.
 
No matter what
Lady Evanston had implied earlier.

Gibson could not allow such a thing
to happen again.
 
He needed to be
strong.
 
For Amy.
 
No more touching.
 
No more kissing.
 
And
certainly no more allowing her to taste the simmering passion they shared.
 
No matter how much he might want to.

He didn't have time to worry over
the issue further, however, for the moment Lady Julia spied Lady Amy, the
duchess made haste towards her friend, practically dragging her husband,
Benjamin Sinclair, the "fearsome-to-all-but-his-friends" Duke of
Radcliffe behind her.
 
It was a slightly
comical sight to see, at least in Gibson's opinion, especially when the duke
appeared as if he was capable of eviscerating someone with just a simple glare.

"Lady Amy!" Julia cried
as she reached her friend's side, "I have been so worried about you and
your mother.
 
I was going to call upon
the both of you the day after the Fairhill's event, but my husband thought that
an extremely bad idea."
 
She cast
the duke a dark glare.
 
"He was
worried I would only be in the way."

"You would never be in the
way," Amy quickly assured her friend, as she dipped into a quick curtsey
before both of the Radcliffes, "but I will admit that it
was
a bit
hectic that morning, what with making certain that both my father and my
brother were informed of the incident, as well as attending to small details to
ensure that my mother has the care she needs.
 
However, you would have been welcome at any time.
 
You know that."

Lady Julia stuck her chin defiantly
in the air as she continued to glare at her husband, and Gibson noted again
that her extensive scars did little to disguise the pure beauty of the new
Duchess of Radcliffe.
 
In some ways,
they enhanced her looks, forcing one to truly concentrate on the magnificence of
her as a whole, rather than the lines that covered her face and ran down her
neck to dip below her the top of her gown.
 
Another, less self-assured woman would have lived a life in hiding
because of those scars, but not Lady Julia.
 
She had defied society and made a brilliant match for herself along the
way.
 
She was an extraordinary woman,
and he counted himself lucky to be among her friends.

"My Lord.
 
My Lady."
 
Gibson offered each of them a low bow.
 
Out of all of the people here, the duke and duchess were the
highest ranking, and yet they were also the ones he felt the most comfortable
with.
 
Radcliffe knew Gibson's secret -
had known it for years really - and Lady Julia was his friend as well.
 
For once, his lack of social position did
not matter.
 
"It is wonderful to
see you both."

Lady Julia turned her bright gaze
on Gibson.
 
"And what is this I
hear about you escorting our fair Lady Amy out in Society?
 
Is it true?
 
Balls?
 
Ices at Gunter's?
 
Walks in the park?
 
Even the opera one night, and a musicale last evening, if I am to
understand correctly?"
 
It was no
secret that Julia wanted to see a match made between her best friend and the
physician, but Gibson also knew that not even Lady Julia or her powerful
husband could work that kind of miracle.

Inclining his head, Gibson offered
Lady Julia another small bow.
 
"It
is all true, my lady.
 
With Lady
Evanston falling ill, it was the wish of the family, specifically Lord Marcus,
the Viscount Breckenright, that Lady Amy's social events continue while I assess
her health for signs of a potential apoplexy."
 
As he lied through his teeth, he prayed that the couple would
simply take him at his word and not question his story, at least not in public.
 
At worst, Gibson would prefer them to think
him a grasping social climber rather than to demand an explanation that he was
not at liberty to give.

The duke, who was a well-educated
man, wore an expression of utter disbelief, but, as he also supported a match
between Amy and Gibson, he merely nodded as if in complete agreement.
 
Then Radcliffe gave Gibson a quick wink to
let the other man know that the he understood the story to be a complete
fiction, but trusted the physician enough to know that there had to be a good
reason for the falsehood.