Far Beyond Scandalous

by Bethany Sefchick

  He cleared his throat a few times before beginning. "My father, Harrison Blackwell, was the Viscount of Ardenton. He was a powerful, wealthy man, respected by many, including the king. As such, he was allowed into the royal family's inner circle, the highest echelons of court. There was no reason for him not to be allowed in, you see. After all, my family had loyally served the crown for generations. My grandfather's service to the country was recognized in the House of Lords, it was so beneficial. So my father reaped the rewards of what his father's hard work had sown, and, for a time, all was well." Gibson swallowed hard and expelled a long breath. "Then, something changed. I suspect it was my father's love of the gaming tables, purchasing pricey horseflesh, and supporting an endless string of mistresses that drained his finances but I cannot be sure."

  "Did you know your family was having trouble?" Amy doubted that at such a young age, she would have known.

  Gibson shook his head and rubbed his hand across his forehead. This was more difficult for him than he had imagined it would be. "No. After all, I was in training to be the next viscount, learning how to run the estate and take over my father's position. Then, I was off to Eton. If there were any issues, they were minor and soon corrected themselves." He smiled to himself, clearly lost in memory. "I do remember that my mother stopped frowning so much around my twelfth birthday. She was happy once more, which was all that mattered to me." He drummed his fingers on the window ledge, his nerves showing. "I now suspect that is when the coffers were refilled again, though I doubt she knew that it was with blood money."

  Amy bit her lip, knowing she had to choose her words carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was inflict any more hurt on Gibson. He had suffered enough. "I do not understand. Blood money?" This was a far greater scandal than most knew, she suspected. If the particulars had been known, he would likely have been barred from all of England.

  "Blood money," Gibson snorted in disgust, his rancor towards his father shining through in that moment. "It seems that the French found out that my father was in need of a quick infusion of cash and possessed almost unrestricted access to the king. So it is my understanding that they made him an offer - the secrets of the English crown in exchange for as much money as he could spend."

  "That is simply awful!" Amy knew of no other words that would suffice. She also did her best to hide her shock. She did not want Gibson to think that she blamed him for any of it - even by association. "How could he do such a thing?"

  A grim smile crossed Gibson's face, and his lips twisted in disgust. "That is precisely what I asked him when he was arrested the day after my sixteenth birthday. He had no answer for me." He went back to toying with the curtain on the window. "After that, the changes came rapidly. My family was stripped of what little we had left. The title, our land and holdings, and what was left of the family fortune that my father had not managed to waste on frivolity. All of it simply gone."

  Gibson paused and this time, Amy said nothing. There was nothing to say, really, and she knew he would speak again when he was ready.

  "We lived in poverty for about a year," he said when he began again, the words seemingly wrenched from deep in his gut. "On the one year anniversary of my father's arrest with no further word from him, my mother finally realized that he wasn't coming back. The life she had so enjoyed was gone forever. She was the daughter of a duke, so it was a crushing blow for her, more than she could bear. She took her life that very day."

  Instinctively, Amy reached out and grasped Gibson's hand in her own. She was afraid that he might pull away, but was surprised when he wrapped his fingers around hers and clenched them tightly. She needed him to understand that, so far, nothing he had said would make her abandon him. None of it was his fault, despite what society as a whole might think.

  "And your father?" She had not heard of the elder Blackwell being in prison anywhere, but then, that was not a surprise, even given her father's work for the crown. It wasn't as if that kind of topic was deemed fit for a young woman's ears, even one rapidly approaching spinsterhood as she was.

  Gibson swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving hers. "He was executed in secret. Hanging, I suspect, though I do not know for certain. For reasons I do not understand, the crown did not want to make it public knowledge, so the sentence was carried out quietly, some place far away from here. I do not know where his body lies, and I suspect I never will."

  "Oh, Gibson. I'm sorry. So very sorry." Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back. He did not want her sympathy and had endured enough of other people's pity. That much she knew.

  He continued on as if he hadn't just made the most gut-wrenching confession of his life. "The rest I suspect you know already. It is not exactly a secret that my sister Harriet died of the plague, or that I studied medicine for years while I tutored under Dr. Hastings until I was old enough, not to mention skilled enough, to join his practice."

  Gibson sank back against the seat and closed his eyes, not wanting to see the look of disgust that he was certain graced her lovely features. "I am a scandal, Amy," he sighed quietly, using her Christian name, needing the comfort of that familiarity. "Lady Saintwood was not wrong about that. I am also not good enough to be in your company, and, were there another choice available to make certain you are safe until your father returns, I would make it. But there is not. So therefore, I apologize for tonight's highly improper display. I will be more circumspect. It will not happen again."

  "You are damn right it will not!"

  Gibson's eyes snapped open, expecting to find Amy furious with him for keeping his past from her. She should be. In fact, she should demand that he leave her sight this instant. He was the son of a traitor. He would never be good enough for her.

  Instead, he found her fairly vibrating with righteous indignation. When he raised an eyebrow at her, she sniffed in that that rather officious way she had, the way only a daughter of wealth and privilege could.

  "This entire situation is not your fault, Gibbs," she said heatedly, returning his strong grip with one of her own, "and I will not allow those vipers to treat you as if you are a pariah. You are a good man. An honorable man. One of the finest that I have ever had the good fortune to meet."

  How could he make her understand? "But I am a pariah," he tried again, not releasing her hand, even though he knew that he should. He liked the contact far too much. " Don't you understand? My family has been disgraced, and since I am the only one left, all of that dishonor falls to me. It is why I work so hard to do right by others, why I fought to garner a reputation as a capable and trusted physician. I need to prove that I am not my father. I need to be a better man, a more honorable man. But in truth, I am not."

  "You are," she insisted, leaning forward so much that their knees brushed and he had to fight to keep his body under control, lest she discover how very improper he wished to be just then. "You are a good man, finer than any I know. That is why I will not allow the ton to treat you as if you are nothing."

  His heart swelled at her belief in him. Other than Hastings, no one had believed him worthy of respect in so very long. Yet he could not presume too much. It was a fine line he was treading. Still, he could not help himself, and he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "You cannot control them all, sweeting." In that moment, he felt as close to her as he had that day in the summerhouse. With all of his heart, he longed to be back there again, where the rest of the world simply ceased to exist. "They are many voices, and you are only one."

  "It does not signify. In the end, I will win." Amy's eyes flashed fire, and Gibson wished he could be that confident. "You will have the respect you deserve. I will make them understand that you are more than your past." She did not know how, precisely, she would accomplish that, but at the moment, it did not matter. She was nearly overset with emotion for the man seated across from her. "When they look at you, I want them to see what I see."

  "And what is it that you see?" He knew he should not ask, but he could not help him
self either.

  Amy was thankful that the darkness hid the blush that she was certain had crept over her cheeks. "I see a hero and a man worthy of respect. Tonight, you defended me, even at the risk of causing a scandal, but still allowed me to choose my own path at the same time. Had I wanted to leave with the Saintwoods, you would not have stood in my way. In my heart, I know that. That is a gift that no one has ever given me before. And to me, that makes you a better man than I have ever known."

  Gibson knew he should not press for more, but he found himself speaking the words before he could stop himself. He was a fool, but a besotted one. "And do you see anything else when you look at me, my lady? For I know what I see, but I am curious to know how much more our views differ." He kept his tone light and teasing, but the answer was supremely important to him.

  Reaching out, Amy ran a gloved hand across his jaw, much as she had that day so long ago. "I see a man of noble blood, born and trained to be so much more than he currently is. I see a man who will not allow himself to forget where he came from, and the circumstances that shaped him." She smiled and in the warm cocoon of the carriage, he could almost bring himself to believe that she might truly care for him. That she could see beyond the scandal. "I see a fine man, one I am proud to have escort me about town. I see a man who is the only one ever to give me pleasure. The only man who truly knows who I am inside of this pretty shell. One that I would so very much love to waltz with some day, who might court me openly, if we could only find a way."

  Pain sliced through his heart at her words. She was living in a fairy tale world, and he should tell her so. But when he opened his mouth to speak, the words would not come out. He wanted to tell her that what she hoped for was impossible, that he would never be anything more than a physician, and that her family would never allow a union between them, even if society would tolerate it. Which they most decidedly would not.

  He wanted to tell her that doors now open to her would be slammed shut in her face if they even attempted something like what she was suggesting. He wanted to remind her of all she would give up, the scandal she courted by even daring to voice her hopes aloud. However, he did none of those things. Instead, he gave her a small, sad smile, and pulled her across the carriage to sit beside him, relishing the feel of her in his arms once more, breaking the promise they had both made earlier in the evening to keep their hands to themselves. Though she had touched him first.

  Gibson knew he might damn himself for all of eternity, but he could not get enough of her. He needed to touch her, just one more time.

  For once, he decided to let the past slip away and be forgotten. For one more moment out of time, they could simply be Amy and Gibson again.

  "I pray that you are right, sweeting." Even as he spoke the words, he knew they were lies, but at the moment, he wanted to hear them just as much as she. "For I want those things as well. More than you can ever know."

  Then, with Amy wrapped in his arms, he rapped on the carriage ceiling once more and ordered the driver to take them home. Well, her home anyway. Gibson didn't have a true home, just a house in Cheapside. He had hadn't had a true home for a very long time. It was yet one more disparity between them that he was certain could never be crossed.

  Chapter Seven

  Society Tales

  It has come to this author's attention that a certain Lady A.C. was seen in the company of the dashingly handsome, yet not-quite-to-par Doctor G.B. last evening at Drury Lane, walking arm in arm through the theater's darkened hallways. Just as was speculated would happen.

  While many people assume that a scandal is brewing, this author has it on excellent authority the gentleman - for let us all admit that is precisely what he should still be - is acting on the direction of the paragon of a lady's family - not to mention our prince! - in escorting her to various events about town. It is a favor, I am told, of great magnitude, and though no one will say for certain, it is believed that the possible health crisis, which was speculated on earlier, is in fact the reason for the escort. Moreover, it is believed that her health is still extremely delicate and in need of constant care and vigilance.

  Should this indeed prove to be the case, then this author believes that the good physician is far nobler than many of the so-called "peers of the realm." Until then, it will be interesting to see how this pairing plays out, as it is no small secret that the lady in question is verging on spinster status, even though there is at least one young buck vying for her affections.

  - Lady X

  "Why don't they just print my name," Amy grumbled to Grace as she dressed that morning for breakfast. "It's not as if anybody is going to read that and assume it is someone else. They all know it's me." Though in truth, she wasn't overly upset about the tidbit in the Society Tales gossip sheet. Anything, including the latest on-dit, that made Gibson's escort of her appear acceptable in the eyes of society was a good thing.

  "Why do the sheep eat grass, my lady?" Grace asked as she helped Amy into a pale blue sprigged muslin gown accented by an ivory ribbon about her waist. "Why does society gossip at all? It is what they do, and we are no better off fighting it than we are trying to capture a bit of wind in a bottle." The maid finished tying the sash on Amy's gown and gave the bow a small pat, satisfied with her ministrations. "At least it is complimentary, my lady." Then she paused and made a face. "Well, mostly. You are perfectly healthy. That's plain for all to see."

  Grace did have the right of it, as usual, though the line about Amy bordering on spinsterhood did sting a bit. However, through happy coincidence, the column also advanced Amy's plan to have Gibson eventually accepted by the ton. The details had crystallized in her mind the previous evening after Gibson had departed. She wanted him to be accepted so that they might openly court. It was not completely unheard of, as some physicians did marry into nobility, though not usually to a wife as high in rank as she was.

  More than that, however, Gibson deserved to take his rightful place among his peers. He should not suffer for his father's mistakes. From this point forward, everything Amy did must work toward that end. Even though she had no idea how she would re-secure a title for him - assuming that it could be done at all.

  Her plan, of course, meant no more touching or acting improperly while they were out. She needed to restrain herself around him and somehow keep her feelings in check. It would not do to be caught in a compromising position with him, and, given their history, the more time they spent in each other's company, the more likely that was to occur. She needed to be stronger than that. Moreover, she needed to remember that she was a lady.

  In her heart, she knew that it was unlikely that she could ever obtain a title for him, as there were limits to the power she and her family could wield. On the other hand, she knew she had a great deal of influence, simply by the luck of her birth, and for once, she wanted to put it to good use. This article was a start, even though she had nothing to do with its placement.

  The on-dit also more or less confirmed the story that both Amy and Gibson had been working very diligently to sell to the members of the ton. The same story coming from the nib of Lady X's pen could only serve to help further their cause. Thus far, only Gibson, Michaels, and Amy herself knew about the directive found with her father's other estate papers, and both she and Gibson wanted to keep it that way.

  However, for Amy, this charade was quickly becoming more than just a way to keep up appearances and protect family secrets until her father returned. It was becoming a test of her heart as well. Physical attraction might have been the initial spark between her and Gibson, but now, she felt it quickly deepening into something more. She cared for him a great deal, and she suspected that he cared for her in return. Not that he would ever admit it, for he was far too much of a proper gentleman despite his lack of a title.

  Gibson was Amy's mythical Prince Charming, the man her mother had long ago told her would never truly exist. Yet here he was, in the flesh. Except that, unfortunately, he was filling the role of
Cinderella more than that of the prince.

  There had to be a way to change that, she decided as she sat at her dressing table while Grace pinned up her hair for the day. There was a way around everything. One only had to find a solution.

  Resolute now and confident in her plan, Amy took a last look at herself in the silver framed mirror, decided she was acceptable, and turned to Grace. "I will be checking in with my mother before I begin the day. Please inform Towson that I will be down for breakfast shortly." She rose in a swirl of stiff skirts and a cloud of lemon and lavender, her signature scent, determined to start that very day to find a solution. Once she ascertained her mother's condition, of course. That always came first, no matter what.

  The maid bobbed a quick curtsey. "Yes, my lady. I know the repast for this morning is to be light, as it is only you in the breakfast room at the moment."

  "Has my mother eaten yet?" Amy asked, pausing as she was halfway out the door.

  "I do not believe so," Grace replied as she picked up Amy's nightrail from the floor where it had been tossed earlier. "We were to wait for Dr. Blackwell's instruction."

  Amy considered her options for a moment. "Very well. Have a tray sent to my mother's room for me, please. I will breakfast there and wait for Dr. Blackwell at the same time. I am hoping for good news today and do not wish to be far from her bedside when he arrives."