It was then that she had realized that once more, he cloaked himself in lies and masks to protect himself, just like she did. In this case, however, he was protecting her, stalling Michaels so that the man didn't either kill her on the spot or take her from the house before help arrived. Both had been likely outcomes, and she still shuddered to think of them.
Once she understood that, the rest didn't matter. The last words he had spoken to her, however? She had a feeling he definitely meant those.
"I didn't mean them," he sighed. "Not all of them anyway." The confession seemed torn from him, each word almost painful to speak. However it also more or less confirmed what she already knew. "I thought you understood."
"Not at first." And truly, she hadn't. The night before, Gibson had rejected her words of love. He had sent her away. What else could she believe? It wasn't until later, after Michaels was dead and Gibson had gone, that she realized he was doing nothing more than playing the madman's game. Gibson had been gaining the other man's trust and confidence so that he could get close enough to be in a position to help her when the time came. "But I do now."
Gibson rose from his chair and pushed past her, but she dogged his every step. When she had him essentially cornered near his desk, he turned to face her, still ashamed. "At the end, I tried to tell you. I would have died for you yesterday."
"And my heart understood your message, even if my head immediately did not." She reached into her bodice and pulled out a small packet of papers. "I still believe that there is a chance for us. That is why I begged my father to allow me to bring you these." She handed him the packet and then moved back a few steps to wait.
Scanning the pages quickly, Gibson could barely comprehend what he was reading. He read certain passages twice, just to be certain. Then he looked up at her, a sense of hope filling him where before there had only been despair. "How? This is not possible."
"You are not the only one with Coins of Service outstanding," she informed him tartly, a bit of lightness creeping into her heart as a wave of emotions stole across his handsome face. "My father, apparently, has several, not to mention the ear of the prince, especially now after his return from the north. All it took was a few words from a man who has dedicated his life to serving the crown and everything was taken care of." She pointed to one passage in particular. "Or it will be once the House of Lords meets again in a few days for this type of business."
Gibson turned away to read the papers Amy had handed him one last time. For his service to the crown, including risking his life to save a member of the royal family - and really, he thought that line was doing it up a bit much - Gibson's family title would be restored during the next session of Lords that dealt with such matters. Except that instead of being named a viscount, Gibson would become the Earl of Ardenton, a much loftier and prestigious title.
Additionally, the money and property that the crown had stripped away from the Blackwell family, including the family home, would be returned to Gibson along with a healthy amount of interest so that he might make any repairs and upgrades that were necessary.
"I thought it all gone forever. That was what we were told. I do not understand." Gibson looked at Amy, hoping she had an explanation. For he had no idea where to even begin.
"The property was always meant to be held in trust for you," she said, leading him back to the couch so that they might sit. "You and your mother and sister were never meant to suffer the way that you did. But the king's madness got in the way, and, well, information was never relayed as it should have been. In general, a mess was made, and you and your family suffered. That said, the property was also never actually sold, and your family's fortune was never officially reverted to the crown. It simply lay untouched, waiting for an official ruling to return it to you. Though that could not be accomplished until your father was tried for his crimes. By the time that occurred, King George had descended into utter madness and had no recollection of the decree."
Gibson turned the papers over in his hands once more, the reality still sinking in. "I had no idea." He was still in shock. Good things like this did not happen to him. Ever.
Amy loosened the laces on her gown a bit, finally satisfied that he would not throw her out. She had decided to be more confident in her actions and her words. "As I understand it, by the time Prinny took control and discovered what had happened, it was too late to correct, at least immediately. Not to mention that there were other threats to the country's safety and well-being. So he hired you as a royal physician until he could devise a way to restore what had been lost. As much as he was able, anyway."
"He's the Prince Regent. He can do whatever he pleases, and he knows it." Still, Gibson wasn't angry. Just confused. "I met with him many times. He hired me."
"And you are a proud man, Gibbs," Amy countered softly. Honestly, for an intelligent man, he could be incredibly dense. Her father was right on that account. "Would you have accepted his offer had it been made the first time you met the man?"
"Probably not." Gibson hated to admit that she was right, but she was. "I would most likely have rebuffed him, thinking it charity. Or worse, a bribe of some kind."
Amy's hopes soared. Finally. She was making progress. "He knew that. Or suspected it, anyway. For all of the masks you wear, Gibbs, you can be horribly easy to read on certain occasions."
"Only to some," he countered, feeling lighter and happier than he had in a very long time. "It is true then that Wintercrest still stands?" He hadn't seen his boyhood home in years. The thought that he could soon return to it nearly brought tears to his eyes. "I long to see it again." More than that, he longed to show it to Amy, if she would allow it.
Nodding, she shifted closer to him. One issue resolved and one more to go. "It does, though it is in need of repair. Extensive ones, if my father is to be believed." She fluttered her eyelashes at him, brazenly attempting to be her most coquettish self. "Repairs would of course, begin much quicker if one did not have to wait until his fortune is restored to have access to the appropriate amount of funds." When Gibson didn't reply, Amy pressed closer, brushing her thigh against his, using all of the feminine wiles at her disposal. "Funds that could become available within a day or two if one were, oh, say to marry an heiress."
It was then that Gibson noticed that Amy had loosened the laces on her gown, revealing far too much cleavage and allowing him a tantalizing view of her luscious breasts. In fact, he could tell that she wasn't wearing a corset or any undergarments at all. It was, indeed, the very same gown that made him wild with the need to see her out of it. Naked. In his bed. Writhing beneath him as he drove himself into her.
It had all been part of her plan, he realized. However, it changed nothing. He might have had his title restored, or would soon, but he had still hurt her. He had rebuffed her words of love. No lady could or should suffer such an affront and still want a man like him. He was a cad. He needed to correct that. Now.
"I never told you that I love you, and I should have. That night we shared together, at the very least, I should have said the words, for they were in my heart all along. I hurt you, Amy. Deeply. And for that I am sorry." Gibson wanted to be the one to remind her, not that he thought she had forgotten for even a moment. Still, the words would be easier coming from him.
"You did." She shrugged and moved a little closer. "But I understand why. Now, anyway, even if I did not then." By now, he was almost pressed back up against the edge of the couch. And her gown was almost falling off her shoulders to completely bare her breasts to his gaze. "You were worried about your lack of a title, and what I would have to give up to be with you."
Gibson refused to meet her eyes, but found there were few other places to rest his gaze that would not offend her in some way. "I wanted you, Amy. I still do. More than you know. But I had nothing to offer you and in my cowardice, I hurt you. What I did was unforgivable."
"Pish." In that moment, she sounded so much like her father that he had to smile. "I am a grown woman
, Gibbs. One who, you might have noticed, does not like to be told what to do or to follow the rules."
"Perhaps I had noticed. Just a bit." Or more than a bit, which was just another thing he loved about her.
Amy smiled and settled herself on his lap, her gown now pooling at her waist and her breasts completely bare, glad when he did not push her away. His resolve was weakening, just as she had anticipated. Few men could resist a mostly naked woman. "You had your reasons for your actions. Good ones, might I add. You were trying to protect me, even though I didn't see it at the time." Then she sobered for a moment. "If Prinny had not given you back your title, would you have given up on me?"
Gibson took his time in replying, for he wanted to be certain that this time, he got the words just right. "No." He settled her more completely against him, allowing her to feel the full force of his erection through his pants. He had been hard with longing for her from the moment she walked in the door and revealed herself. He needed her to know that. "In the short term, perhaps. I desperately wanted to do the right thing and not be like my father. Even though I followed in his footsteps somewhat by taking the cowardly way out yesterday when I did not speak with you. However, in time, I think the pain of living without you would have become too great to bear. I would have been unable to stay away."
He kissed the top of her head. "At some point, I would have come crawling back and begged you to forgive me." Another kiss, this one coupled with a caress of her breasts. "And then I would have asked you to give it all up and marry me, despite the fact that I lack, or rather lacked, a title, wealth and social position."
"If you hadn't come crawling back, I would have come after you. You realize that, do you not?" Amy said that last bit with a touch too much glee in her voice, though he supposed she could be forgiven since they were both finally getting what they wanted. "No matter what kind of scandal I would have caused, I would have sought you out and made you see reason. I love you, Gibson, and that, I am afraid, will never change."
His heart soared at her words, and the last of his anger remaining from his youth drained away. His past didn't matter. None of it did. Even if he never saw a coin from the fortune supposedly still sitting in a bank somewhere, it would not matter. Amy had forgiven him. Better still, she had given him her heart. This time, he had been intelligent enough to accept it for the precious gift that it was.
"That is perfect then, Amy, for I love you as well. And I have no intention of ever letting you go again." Then he shifted her body so that he could better access her mouth, before reaching between them to undo the placket of his pants. There was another part of her that he wanted to reacquaint himself with, and the sooner, the better.
Chapter Seventeen
If their last kiss had been sweet and tender, this one was incendiary. It began tentatively enough at first, their lips barely brushing as Amy snuggled against Gibson. But it wasn't enough. Not for him and not for her. Within moments, Amy had raised herself up on her knees and was tugging at the throat of Gibson's shirt. The skirt of her gown began creeping up her long legs to pool at her thighs, and he was nearly undone at the sight of her. She was gorgeous.
"More, Gibson," she begged breathlessly. "I need more. More of everything. Of you." Amy knew she should not be saying such things, but she could not help it. The last two days had been torturous, especially not knowing if Gibson cared for her as she did for him. She wanted to believe that he did, but each time she thought about it, she dared not get her hopes up.
He had saved her from the clutches of a madman. There was that to consider, especially knowing that he had risked his own life to do so. Then again, he had also left her home in Mayfair without a word, save for whatever he had spoken about with her father.
Still, her heart had believed in him and always would. He had saved her life. He had said he would give up his own life for her. She recognized that those words, finally, were the truth. All through the seemingly endless afternoon of statements and the eventual removal of the body, Amy had held those words close to her heart, knowing that she had to use them somehow to win him back.
There were obstacles between them, true. They could not be denied, though she had been determined to find a way around them. She would not allow them to stop her. She would find a way for them to be together.
Then, late last night, her father had returned from Carlton House with the good news. Amy had, of course, wanted to immediately rush to Gibson's front door, but even she was not quite that brazen. The ton would forgive her much, but probably not that.
So she had waited until first light and then, when she was certain her father was awake, requested permission to summon a messenger to take the papers to Gibson. When he agreed rather sleepily, she also mentioned that she would be going out for a walk as well and not to expect her to return any time soon.
She did not mention, of course, that she would not be taking a maid. It was assumed that she was, because that was the proper thing to do, and her father was too exhausted to bother to ask. He also did not think to ask where she would find coin to pay a messenger. She had prepared an answer to that question as well, but it was unnecessary. When she was certain that the earl was drifting back to sleep in his library chair, she had slipped quietly out of the house, papers in hand, prepared to fight for the man she loved, no matter the scandal she created.
Now, she was here, with him, her body pressed to his, his lips on hers. The one place she feared she would never be again.
"Were there endless days of forever, it would still not be enough to give you all that you deserve." Gibson had no idea where the poet in him had suddenly sprung from, but Amy looked beyond pleased at his words so he didn't bother to examine it further. He was happy. She had made him happy. And she was happy in turn. That was all that mattered.
He pulled her closer and began to nibble on her breasts. They were just as sweet and delectable as he remembered. It hadn't truly been that long since they had last lain together, but in his heart, it felt as if they had been separated for forever. "I do not deserve you, Amy. I have said that before and it is still true. But I am thankful beyond measure that you chose to fight for me, especially when I would not fight for myself." Then he pulled one nipple into his mouth and bit down lightly, sending shivers of pleasure racing along her spine.
"And I do not deserve you," she countered, teasing her tongue along the side of his neck and generally behaving like a shameless wanton. Not that she cared and she was fairly certain that he did not, either. "But I am thrilled beyond words that you can see past my flaws. That you do not look at me and find me lacking or think less of me because of my past."
Pulling back, Gibson brought his eyes to hers, making certain that she looked directly at him when he spoke, even though it meant cooling the passion that had been building between them. "You are a strong woman, Amy. Far stronger than anyone has given you credit for, I think." He teased the tips of her breasts with the pads of his thumbs. "And I will spend the rest of my life proving that I am worthy to love you and worthy of your love, as well."
After a long moment, Amy stilled in his arms and that was when he knew for certain that the weight of his words had finally found their mark. "The rest of your life? Gibbs, are you certain? I do not want to press you for a commitment you are not ready to make." Though her heart leapt with joy at the prospect of becoming his wife.
"I am more certain of this than I have ever been of anything. Amy, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife? Not just because we suit or because I have my title back or because I have already taken your innocence. But rather because you love me as much as I love you. With my entire heart and soul."
Tears pricked her eyes and in that moment, Amy finally felt as if she had come home. "Yes, Gibson. Yes! I will marry you, and I will spend the rest of my life fighting for you when you doubt yourself. I will be there if you fall and when you triumph. But most of all, I will be there because I love you and without you, I am incomplete." Then she kissed hi
m deeply, pouring all of her love, devotion and passion into that one act.
The passion that he had momentarily cooled with his marriage proposal flared back to life with her kiss. Gibson knew he should put her aside and send her home. It would be the proper thing to do after all. Yet, he was greedy, and once they began to openly court, it was unlikely that they would be alone together again until after the wedding. This might be his last chance to have her until they were legally wed.
Rogue that he was at heart, he would take full advantage while he had the opportunity. Perhaps he had learned something useful from his father after all.
Shifting Amy more firmly into his grasp, he rose with her in his arms and began carrying her towards his bedroom. "Stop me now, Amy, if you do not wish this, or if you would prefer to wait until it is all legal and proper between us."
"I want you," she whispered into his shoulder before scraping his skin with her teeth. "More than you can ever know."
That was all he needed to hear. With great strides, Gibson carried her to his bedroom within moments. His erection throbbed almost painfully in his pants, and he wanted desperately to bury himself into her tight, wet heat once more. She must have sensed some of his need for she made little mewling noises and pushed at his shirt, trying to remove it from his body.
Gibson knew that he should wait and bring her to satisfaction first. He also knew that Amy deserved tender passion, especially after the trauma she had suffered the day before, but for once, he found his more gentlemanly manners falling away. The rake inside of him emerged from where he had been hiding for the better part of Gibson's life. He needed to possess her, every last, lovely inch of her. Now. He could not wait any longer.
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