Far Beyond Scandalous (37 page)

The earl made a rude noise.
 
"Pish.
 
She knows you were acting this morning.
 
That you didn't mean those things.
 
If she does believe that nonsense, she will realize the truth of things
once she comes back to herself."

"Before," Gibson
corrected gently.
 
"Once before,
she said that she loved me.
 
I did not
tell her that I loved her in return."
 
He didn't think he needed to say why he had not spoken those words she
had longed to hear.
 
The earl was an
intelligent man.
 
Certainly, he knew and
had his own objections to Amy's involvement with the son of a traitor.
 
There was no possible way the earl would
approve of a marriage between them, no matter what he had intimated
earlier.
 
It was foolish to even hope.

"Then you are a
fool."
 
Gibson was shocked at
Evanston's words.
 
"She loves you,
and it's clear to me that you love her."

"But I am poor, at least by
comparison.
 
And from a family of
disgrace."
 
Did the earl truly want
Gibson to say the words aloud?
 
To admit
to his family's shame?
 
If so, he
would.
 
He would do anything for
Amy.
 
"My father was a
traitor.
 
He was executed.
 
Those are sins that cannot be forgiven.
 
Not by society.
 
Not by anyone."

Evanston snorted in disbelief.
 
"Do you think that matters to
her?"

"It should to you, at
least."
 
Why was the man making
this so difficult?
 
Gibson had been
under the impression that the earl liked him, at least a little.

"For an intelligent man, a
physician no less, you are incredibly thick-headed."
 
The earl rose with a sigh.
 
"My daughter loves you.
 
In fact, you are, as far as I know, the only
man she has ever loved.
 
Or probably
ever will."
 
He looked over at
where Marcus had joined his sister and mother on the settee.
 
"In case you hadn't noticed, Dr.
Blackwell, my family, for all of our noble blood, is not the most
conventional.
 
What matters to others
does not matter to us."

Except that it still mattered to
Gibson.
 
A great deal.
 
And he could not get around that, no matter
how hard he tried or how much he wanted to do otherwise.
 
It had been a lesson ingrained in him since
birth and there was no escaping it.
 
He
only wanted what was best for Amy.
 
He could
not and would not tie her to him and expect her to accept a lifetime of shame
and exclusion from the
ton
.
 
He
would not force her to make that sacrifice.
 
She deserved better than him.
 
She always had.

Society
Tales

On any other morning, the
announcement of an extremely eligible duke, as well as an eminently available
earl, both newly returned to town as of yesterday, would be cause for
celebration, particularly among the female members of society.
 
Even if the rumor is true that at least one
of them already has his heart engaged elsewhere.
 
However on this particular morning, the extremely scandalous
events that took place yesterday at the Mayfair home of the Earl and Countess
of E. has captured the imagination of all society.

I imagine that all of us feel a
certain degree of security with our servants and retainers.
 
If they were not trusted they would not be
in our employ, would they?
 
To think
that any among them would wish us dead is more than chilling.
 
It is, quite simply, terrifying.

However, as is always the case
with the human condition, heroes emerge even in the darkest of times.
 
This author has it on good authority, in
this case directly from Bow Street itself, that the handsome and dashing Dr.
G.B. was present at the home attending the countess, as is normal for most
mornings as she recovers her health, at the precise time of the incident.
 
It was through the noble doctor's heroic and
selfless efforts that the earl, recently arrived home from abroad, was able to
subdue the intruder before harm could befall anyone.
 
Other than the man who would have absconded with Lady A., of
course, which would have been a veritable tragedy as she is truly a paragon of
society for all to look up to and emulate.
 
No, this author believes that the intruder received precisely the
punishment that he deserved.

 
- Lady X

Gibson tossed his morning copy of
Society
Tales
down on the table beside his chair and rubbed his still-tired
eyes.
 
It had been a long day yesterday,
and having to read Caroline's breathless and somewhat diluted account of the
event wasn't exactly how he wanted to start the current day.
 
Then again, he knew that a salacious bit of
gossip was worth quite a bit to her.
 
The events that had taken place at Cheltenham House were worth their
weight in gold coin.
 
Which was why he
had made certain that she received exclusive information about the entire
incident.

Despite how his friend had painted
him, however, he wasn't a hero.
 
Far
from it.
 
And each moment that passed,
Gibson hated himself a little more for his actions the previous day.
 
Yes, he had provided the diversion, but at
the expense of Amy's emotions.
 
If only
the
ton
knew the truth, but they never would.
 
Caroline had made certain of that, and she was far more effective
at her job than a legion of military men.
 
So was the earl, though in a decidedly different way.

It had taken Gibson another hour to
leave after he had concluded his conversation with the earl.
 
That hadn't been his intention, certainly,
but each time he made to leave, another one of the Runners had an additional
question for him, or he worried that Amy or quite possibly Thea would break
under the pressure and need a physician.
 
Neither of them had looked particularly well at times.

In fact, it had been the stress of
dealing with Michaels that had brought about the countess' apoplexy in the
first place.

Though she had not known of
Michaels' relation to Thomas Overton, she had found Michaels difficult to work
with at best and outright contentious at worst.
 
She had quickly suspected that he had dishonorable intentions,
given his seemingly endless hatred towards the family, but she had not guessed
at how deeply it ran.
 
Nor had she
suspected that he was out to harm Amy.
 
At worst, Thea had assumed that he was stealing from the Evanston
coffers, perhaps even leveraging the family name in some way.
 
Kidnapping and eventually murdering her
daughter hadn't even entered the countess' mind.
 
Why should it?
 
That was
simply absurd.

Except that it hadn't been to
Michaels, and, among the papers he had left behind was a journal detailing his
growing hatred for the Cheltenham family, and Amy in particular.
 
He was the one who had repeatedly encouraged
Lord Drake to continue his pursuit of Amy, saying that she was simply frigid
and playing hard to get.
 
He had also convinced
Drake that all Amy needed was a good, strong man to keep her in line, and that
eventually she would be willing to do whatever he demanded of her - including
sexually.
 
That had been more than
enough incentive to get the young lord to take the bait and continue his
unwanted pursuit.

Michaels had also followed Amy many
times while she was out, particularly when she was in Gibson's company,
including the night she had come to his home and they had made love.
 
Yet, oddly enough, the journal did not
indicate that Michaels suspected Gibson of anything other than the role he had
been playing - that of physician and paid escort who wished to bed a beautiful
daughter of society.

Gibson supposed that he should be
grateful for that, at least.
 
It meant
that he played his part well enough to fool even the madmen of society.
 
Then he remembered the way Amy's family had
looked at him the previous morning, and he remembered that they knew the
truth.
 
They also knew that Amy had
already shared Gibson's bed, though they had been polite enough not to mention
it.

That was the very reason he had departed
the townhome in Mayfair yesterday before speaking to anyone else.
 
Despite his attempts to be otherwise, at
heart, there was a part of him that was very much like his father.
 
Gibson was, in some ways, a coward.
 
He did not want to face the family that had
been so good to him, not to mention so trusting.
 
He did not want to face their censure when they inevitably
confronted him about deflowering their beloved daughter and sister.

More than that, he didn't want to
face Amy.
 
He had said horrible things
in the morning room, and while he hoped that she knew he had only been playing
a role, donning just one more mask in a series of them, he wasn't certain.
 
What if she thought he had been revealing
his true feelings?
 
What if he had lost
her love?
 
Not that it mattered in the
end, he supposed, for he still could not have her.
 
On the other hand, it would have been nice to know that she still
cared for him, even a little.

He should have simply taken her
aside and spoken with her.
 
She would
have understood.
 
But what if she
hadn't?
 
What if she had looked at him
with those same hurt-filled eyes and announced that he had wounded her greatly,
to the point where he could not undo the damage?
 
That, he knew, he would not have been able to tolerate.

So, like the coward that he
essentially was, he had left.
 
It was
easier this way, really.
 
Best for
all.
 
Especially Amy.
 
She was better off without him.
 
Now she had a chance to make a real marriage
with a respectable man of society, one who would love her no matter what.
 
There had to be a man out there like that,
just waiting for her.
 
Gibson was
certain of it.

A knock at the door roused him from
his chair, interrupting his sour mood.
 
He didn't want to answer it, but knew he had to on the off chance that
it might be one of Prinny's men.
 
Gibson
had cashed in his coin, unnecessary as it had been in the end.
 
He had no more favors left to beg from the
crown.
 
That included putting off the
man who essentially paid his salary.

A cloaked figure stood in the
doorway, garbed in rough brown wool and backlit by the sun.
 
Unable to make out any features, he ushered
the person inside, deciding that even though he was at less than his best at
the moment, he could easily subdue the person if they turned out to be an
attacker.
 
Not that he was expecting
someone to do him harm.
 
Then again,
after yesterday, he could not discount any possibility, however fanciful.

Once inside, he stood looking at
the figure, waiting for the person to speak.
 
Unlike the night Amy had come to him in a fine cloak made of crushed
velvet, something he had not recognized at the time, this was a poor man's
cloak.
 
There would be no such pleasant
surprises today.

"I didn't expect to find you
wallowing in pity.
 
It is really not
becoming for a man like you, Gibson.
 
Honestly, it isn't."
 
The
person beneath the cloak spoke softly, and the figure pushed its hood back to
reveal a gleaming tangle of golden curls.

Amy.
 
His heart lurched in his chest, overjoyed to see her and
wondering at the same time what he had done to deserve such good fortune.
 
Then, he remembered the reality of their
situation.

"You should not be
here."
 
He reached out to pull her
hood back up, preparing to send her out the door again into the morning light,
but she batted his hand away in annoyance.
 
"If anyone finds out..."

"They will force us to
marry."
 
She waved a hand in the
air and confounded him further by stripping away her cloak to reveal that
damnable scarlet silk gown, the one that twinkled with the light of a thousand
stars and made her look like a goddess.
 
The same one that she had worn the very night she had seduced and
bewitched him.
 
"Yes, yes, I
know.
 
Horrible thought, isn't it?
 
To be forced to marry a woman like me.
 
One that has invited so many men to her bed
that she herself has lost count."

Gibson glared at Amy, though he did
not toss her out.
 
He was far too glad
to see her for that, not to mention that it would create a far greater scandal
than their association had already.
 
"That is not what I meant, and you well know it."
 
Then he looked away.
 
"And you know bloody well that I never
held that incident with Overton against you.
 
I told you that it wasn't your fault.
 
I meant it.
 
I would not lie
about something like that."

Amy simply stood there looking at
Gibson, her large blue eyes both sad and hopeful at the same time.
 
He ached to simply touch her.
 
More than anything, he longed to take her in
his arms and shower her with kisses to make up for his hard words of the
previous day.
 
She smelled so delicious,
like lemons and lavender, and he ached to take her as he had that one magical
night.
 
His body hardened at the mere
thought of her naked form lying next to his.
 
Then again, he had no right.

Stalking over to his chair, he sat
down, afraid that if he stood too close to her, he would weaken.
 
"You should go, my lady.
 
It is not right that you are
here."
 
He looked away so that she
would not see the lie in his eyes.
 
"We are done.
 
There is
nothing more to say."
 
They were
once more back to where they had been a fortnight ago.
 
Distant.
 
Frigid.
 
So very far apart.

Undeterred, Amy moved to stand in
front of him, unwilling to let Gibson shut her out.
 
There was one last fight left in her, and she would have it.
 
She had not risked her life for this man
only to be pushed aside because he was too fearful to admit his own
feelings.
 

"Oh, there is plenty more to
say, and I will not leave here until the words are spoken.
 
You might be done, but I am not."
 
She regarded him thoughtfully.
 
This was not the Gibson she knew.
 
This was the little boy so betrayed by his
father that he did not know how to fight back.
 
Well she knew him better than anyone, and she would fight on his
behalf.
 
Someone had to, and she doubted
that before her, anyone had.
 
He
deserved better.

She also needed to convince him
that he should let go of this irrational idea he clung to that he was not
worthy of her.
 
That might be trickier
that she had imagined, perhaps even impossible to surmount.
 
Still, she was determined to try.
 
This time, she had come to his door armed
with a plan.