Far Beyond Scandalous

by Bethany Sefchick

  All because of her.

  It was at that moment that the niggling sense of guilt she had been holding off for so long came crashing down on her.

  Amy knew she was not worth that kind of suffering. She would not allow the life of a man she cared for so deeply to be destroyed, all because she was too selfish to let him go. She would tell him today. He could still escort her as he had been, for to stop would only make things worse, but it could go no further. Much as it pained her.

  When they had begun this charade only a scant few days ago, not allowing herself to become entangled in his life had been easy to do. Now, it was not. That first day, she had even been the one to scold Gibson for taking liberties where he should not, about avoiding stolen kisses and caresses. Now she was the one acting like a child being denied their favorite sweetmeat.

  Somehow, everything had become all twisted and confused. It had become a game to her when instead, it was their very lives she was toying with. It had to stop. They were both adults and should start to act like it. They were no longer children, immune to consequences of their actions.

  It was time to step back from the edge of complete ruin and resume the roles they had laid out for themselves on that first day - he of escort and she of aging debutante.

  Decision made, Amy was about to go check on her mother when Towson appeared in the morning room, his posture unyieldingly stiff, as if some affront to the entire Cheltenham household had been committed.

  "You have a caller, Lady Amy," he announced with a bow, as if it greatly pained him to do so.

  Frowning, she rose, placing the newspapers aside. "At this hour?" If it had been Gibson, Towson would have admitted him immediately and without comment. Therefore, it must be someone else.

  "She claims to be a lady," the butler sniffed, his tone indicating that he viewed her otherwise. "A Miss Letitia Worth. She says she is a friend of yours. I, personally, do not countenance it, though I will leave it to you as acting head of the household to decide." For the normally reticent butler, that was quite a speech, revealing just how unsettled he was by the young woman's appearance.

  "Show her in immediately! I will receive her here." Amy had no idea what would bring Letitia to her family's door at this hour, but it must be important.

  Towson merely raised his bushy eyebrows but left to do as requested. A few moments later, he returned with Letitia trailing closely behind. The young woman wore the same rumpled, and now slightly stained, gown she had the previous evening, indicating that she had not been home since before the Coleridge's ball. Letitia also smelled vaguely of ale and something else that Amy could not name. Truly this was the season for scandal, it seemed.

  When Towson left to fetch a tea tray, even at that early hour, Amy offered Letitia a seat at the breakfasting table. It wasn't lost on Amy that the other woman continually twisted her hands in her lap, her once neatly pressed gloves now a wrinkled mess, the seams fraying at the edges and the delicate embroidery horribly snagged.

  In short, Letitia looked a mess and decidedly like something less than a true lady. Now Amy understood Towson's hesitation to admit the young woman.

  Together, the two of them chatted about the weather for a few moments until a maid brought the tea. Once they were alone, however, Amy got right to the point. "Letitia, please forgive me, but as I have yet to see my mother this morning, I feel compelled to ask this rather bluntly. What brings you here this early in the morning? The sun is barely in the sky, and even the tradesmen have yet to completely leave the streets."

  "Lord Drake." Those two words were enough to make Amy tremble with fear, but she did her best to remain composed. Until recently Letitia had been a vicious gossip. Amy would give her no juicy tidbit to spread around, if that was her reason for coming this morning.

  "What of him?" Amy tried not to appear overly anxious, though her heart was beating rapidly in her chest. "I saw him at the ball last night and know that he is trying to court me, even though I informed him again that I wish he would cease. As has my family on numerous occasions." If Letitia's plan was to leave here telling tales, then that was the one Amy wished to be relayed to all of society.

  Leaning forward, Letitia put her hand on Amy's arm, seemingly sensing Amy's reticence. "I know that in the past we have not been friends. For that, I am sorry. I was a foolish girl who was too consumed with frivolous things. However, I am not the girl I was even a season ago, and please believe me when I tell you that you and Dr. Blackwell are both in danger from Drake."

  "Stuff and nonsense." Amy wrapped herself tightly in the mask of The Paragon once more, feeling an overwhelming urge to protect herself. And Gibson. She also did her best to fight back the cold fingers of fear that threatened to creep up her spine. "What have I to fear from Lord Drake? He is a young pup. I am rapidly approaching spinsterhood. That alone should be enough to dissuade him."

  "He needs your dowry. In fact, he and his family are desperate for it." Letitia leaned forward, her mouth set in a grim line and her face serious. "I was, ahem, some place I should not have been last night and overheard him discussing it. He said that there are rumors you have a secret, one that even Dr. Blackwell does not know about, though the good doctor has hired a Bow Street Runner to investigate."

  Amy's blood ran cold as she felt a sharp stab of betrayal. She and Gibson had promised to be honest with each other - always - after that first night he had come back into her life. Gibson hadn't mentioned anything about hiring a Runner. Did he know more about her past than he was letting on? If so, why did he not speak to her about it? That was unlike him.

  Amy's heart sank as she pondered the possibility that Gibson was just like every other man she had known. Her mind, however, whispered that she knew him better than that. She knew his secrets, too. He would not betray or seek out hers. Still, history had taught her to be wary. Any friend could turn if the price was right. And Gibson desperately wanted to reclaim his place in society, even though he denied it. Yet Amy could see the desire written so plainly on his face whenever the topic arose. Would he work to discover her secrets only to use her so that he might regain his status?

  She prayed that was not the case, for it made her heart ache and her head hurt with immeasurable pain.

  "I know nothing about a Runner," Amy confessed, deciding to stick as close to the truth as possible, pasting a pleasant smile on her face. "However if Dr. Blackwell has hired one, I am certain that it is at the direction of Michaels, my father's steward. He continues to run the estate until either my father or Marcus returns to town." Whenever that would occur, and Amy desperately wished she knew. "If Dr. Blackwell has gone to Bow Street, I am sure it was at Michaels' direction."

  Letitia regarded Amy curiously for a moment, as if studying a rather intricate puzzle, but let the point drop, apparently satisfied with that answer, much to Amy's relief. "That still does not ease my mind about Lord Drake. He means to have you to wife, Amy." The young woman laid her hand on Amy's arm again, this time in an unexpectedly kind gesture. "I do not say this to scare you, only to warn you because I feel you need to know the truth so that you might properly prepare. I was not at the Coleridge's ball last night, so I do not know what occurred, only that Drake was greatly embarrassed."

  "That is true," Amy allowed slowly, choosing her words carefully. "He directly challenged Lord Radcliffe, and you can imagine how much the duke disliked that." Given that Letitia was one of the two women prone to using their sharp tongues on Lady Julia the previous season, Amy knew Letitia was all too aware of the prickly duke's tendencies.

  "Drake blames you, fair or not." Letitia held up her hand when Amy would have continued. "And he means to see you brought down, preferably by forcing you to marry him by way of scandal if he cannot convince you otherwise." Letitia paused and wet her lips. "I do not know how he plans to do so, only that he does. Which is why I came to warn you as soon as I could."

  Clearly anxious now, Letitia rose, clutching her reticule tightly. "I must return home before
anyone notices I am gone. I have been away far too long, and the servants will only lie for me to a certain degree. But please, Lady Amy, be careful. Do not allow yourself to be caught out with Lord Drake. He means to 'humble the Paragon of the ton,' to quote him precisely. Though we have not always been the best of friends, no one deserves that, whatever it is that he is planning."

  "Thank you." Amy was sincere, for without Letitia's visit, she would not know that once more she was being used as a pawn. Possibly by both Drake and Gibson. That made it hurt all the more, for she trusted Gibson with her life. "May I call on you in a day or so?"

  At that, Letitia smiled, one of the few real ones Amy had seen grace her face. It softened the other woman's harsh features considerably. "I would like that. Thank you." She also allowed Amy to escort her to the door. "And please give my best wishes to your mother. Everyone misses seeing her out in society. She always enlivened every party she attended, especially when she spoke of the medical society. It is rare to find that kind of passion for any topic these days and I admire her greatly."

  Then, Letitia was gone, sneaking back out into the rapidly spreading dawn. Amy hoped that the young woman made it home safely, and when she went to the window, she wasn't surprised to watch Letitia enter a carriage with the crest of the Danvers viscountcy on the side. George Faraday had obviously accompanied her on the early morning visit, and presumably elsewhere the previous night.

  That alone should have made Amy suspicious of Letita's visit, but she couldn't help but believe the young woman was sincere. Letitia had risked much to bring Amy the news of Drake's plan. No, that had been an honest conversation, and Amy already knew she had to be wary of Drake. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped into a marriage to the miserable excuse for a human being who would one day be the Earl of Tottenshire.

  What angered her at the moment, however, was Gibson. How dare he spy on her! If that was indeed what he was doing, though that certainly appeared to be the case. They were friends at the very least, would-be lovers in another time and place. Did he truly mean to discover her secret and use it against her? She prayed that was not what he was about, but having been betrayed before at a young age, she could not be certain it would not happen again. Still she wanted to believe Gibson innocent until she found evidence otherwise.

  Then she remembered her old music master again and shivered. He had been charming too. Just like Gibson. Then she chastised herself silently. The two men were nothing alike, and she did Gibson a disservice merely thinking something so horrible. It was only her fear talking, making her wary.

  Just then, Amy heard the clock chime in the front hall, signaling the beginning of a new hour. With a sick feeling still in the pit of her stomach, however, Amy knew she could not face Gibson just yet. First, she needed to sort through her own emotions and set things to rights in her own mind. She would not speak to him when her head was muddled and her emotions in turmoil. After what they had shared the previous night, as well as decision she had reached in the hours before dawn, he deserved more than that.

  He deserved her honesty even if he had not offered the same to her.

  Becoming a true adult was far more aggravating that it appeared on the surface, Amy was quickly discovering.

  Logic dictated that there was a reasonable explanation for his hiring of the Runner and not speaking to her about it. Just a few days before, her mother had insisted that Amy trust no one but Gibson, though why that was, she had been unable to say. Amy's heart, however, feared the worst and until she could reconcile the two, she did not feel up to facing him at the moment, especially after a night of so little sleep. No matter how much her heart ached at the thought of her beloved doctor being so near and her not being in his presence.

  Decision made, Amy rang for Towson and directed him to admit Gibson directly to see the countess when he arrived. The butler was to hand over the daily reports from Michaels to the physician as well, but under no circumstances was he to be allowed to see Amy herself. Otherwise, the house was to continue to run as it had the last few days while Lady Evanston recovered, unless, of course, either the earl or Marcus returned. If that occurred, Amy was to be summoned immediately, though she knew that was unlikely to happen.

  Once she was satisfied that her orders would be carried out, she mounted the stairs leading up to her room. She would not see Gibson today. Not until she had her mind back in proper order.

  "I am not certain how you talked my mother into agreeing to this, but it should go without saying that I am not pleased."

  Beside him, Amy was fuming and Gibson had no earthly idea why. She had been in something of a snit from the moment he had walked in the door that morning to examine Lady Evanston, even going so far as to have Towson bar Gibson from seeking Amy out. It had made no sense, especially after the way they had been kissing so passionately the night before in the Coleridge's garden. At her instigation, no less!

  It was as if Gibson's words, bordering on a confession of love, had changed something between them. Or something else had, perhaps something she was not telling him.

  It was both puzzling and infuriating, and, given the information he had received that morning, extremely worrisome.

  So he had appealed to Thea to allow him to escort Amy for a leisurely walk in the park, with Grace accompanying them for escort this time rather than one of Lady Berkshire's women. The countess had gazed at him with suspicious eyes, but when he informed her of what he had learned overnight, she had immediately granted her permission in her halting voice. She had made certain that Towson and the rest of the staff knew of her decision as well, the first step Thea had taken in returning to her former position as lady of the manor.

  That edict, however small, had been met with cheers and good wishes all around, as many of the servants were worried that an incapacitated Lady Evanston would mean they would be out of a job soon enough. It had also made it that much easier to convince Towson and Grace to coax Amy from her chambers, properly dressed for a walk. If pleasing Lady Evanston would help speed the matriarch's recovery, then the servants would do whatever she asked - including forcing Amy to step out with Gibson.

  The lady in question, however, had balked at first, much to Gibson's continued confusion, but when she heard of the progress that her mother had made that morning, including Thea's insistence on the outing, Amy had grudgingly agreed. It was not the most auspicious start to their walk, but it was better than nothing.

  "What has changed between us since last night, my lady?" he asked quietly as he tipped his hat to another couple strolling by. They had reached the park rather quickly, anger fueling Amy's brisk strides. Now, Gibson had to keep her hand tightly tucked within the crook of his arm to prevent her from sprinting off and making a spectacle of herself as she was clearly longing to do. They had long since lost Grace the maid, who could not walk as fast as either Amy or Gibson, and he had not honestly thought to stop to wait for her. Not that Amy would have agreed anyway. It was clear she wanted the outing over and done with. It would be, but not until he determined what had her in such a state.

  For a moment, she slowed her pace, obviously thinking of how best to respond. Then she gave him a look that conveyed nothing but disappointment mixed with a liberal dose of confusion. "I had a visitor very early this morning. Before the sun was even fully in the sky."

  Ah. That explained everything. Gibson knew exactly who her visitor had been. Still, he felt compelled to ask, just in case another person was nosing about their business. "From Miss Letitia Worth?"

  That stopped Amy short, and, to his satisfaction, her anger faded a bit. "How did you know?"

  Tugging her forward gently, he made certain that they continued their walk so no one would become suspicious. "After we departed the Coleridge's ball last evening, I returned home only to be summoned almost immediately to a gaming hell in a rather rough part of town. Seemed some young bucks had over-indulged and one had cut himself rather badly and required stitches."

  Amy clo
sed her eyes so that Gibson would not see the guilt in them. Letitia had mentioned being some place she should not have been the previous evening. "She was there, along with Drake and Faraday."

  "Indeed." Gibson plastered a sunny smile on his face and inclined his head toward a carriage full of young ladies and their mother. "Smile, my lady. We do not wish to upset the busybodies and gossips, do we?"

  Amy licked her lips and attempted what approximated a smile. It had been easier last night when she was still living in her fantasy world. "No, we do not. But perhaps we should continue this conversation elsewhere? I fear it is not fit for delicate ears. Or prying ones, for that matter." She also realized now that she owed him the chance to explain. He would afford her the same luxury were the roles reversed.

  They continued their leisurely pace for a bit longer before Gibson nodded in agreement, inclining his head in greeting towards a gentleman that Amy knew was a client of his. "Indeed. But I am afraid that I am not familiar with the park, as I do not come here often."

  "Fortunately, I am." Amy had spent many days here as a child, playing hide and seek with Marcus and their nanny. She knew every secret corner by heart and there was one particular spot, near the far edge of the lake, where they would not be seen or overheard. In fact, no one would find them for days if she wished it. "Follow my lead."

  Instead of replying, he loosened his grip on her hand, allowing her to guide their path. It was a slow and steady one as they wound their way through one path and then across another. As they strolled along, Amy made certain to wave to acquaintances and occasionally stopped to chat briefly with those that she knew well.

  Each exchange made Gibson want to flee. He did not belong here, despite his bloodlines and his position within the royal court. He was a fraud. Yet, for the most part, people were cordial and two even inquired as to whether or not he was accepting new patients.