The Lady Loves A Scandal_Regency Novella Page 5

  When Gideon stepped into view, she exhaled sharply.

  Twice in as many days, she’d thought the worst of a situation, and both times, it had been Gideon who appeared. Peculiar that in both instances she’d been expecting him but feared it would be someone else entirely.

  He took in her appearance from head to toe. “Were you expecting another?”

  “Of course, not,” she retorted. Her relief fled, and her ire returned. “It is only that I could not escape my maid for some time. I thought I was late, and you’d be gone already.”

  Gideon crossed the clearing, and Sybil waited for him to take her into his arms, pull her close, and gaze into her eyes. He’d done it so many times in the past that she could feel his strong arms around her. It had been a very long time since anyone held her—or made her feel loved and wanted. However, his hand did not reach to capture her. Instead, it tugged at her hair.

  “Ouch!” Sybil batted his hand aside. “Whatever are you doing, my lord?”

  When he raised his hand for her to see, he held a stick, complete with green leaves, between his fingers.

  Sybil’s face heated with embarrassment.

  “You also have dirt on your cheek, and your skirt has a snag.” A smug grin pulled at his lips, and he dropped the stick to the ground. “I suppose I should have surveyed the area before requesting that we meet here.”

  “Neither of us could have known,” she said with a shrug. “Besides, a year does not seem enough time for such growth.”

  Sybil would not admit that the time he’d been gone felt closer to ten lifetimes to her.

  “All the same, thank you for coming. I wasn’t sure you’d get my note…or agree to meet.” He stumbled over the words as his stare darted about the clearing. Gideon had never been an arrogant lord, yet neither had his confidence ever been lacking. This uncertain man before her was not the Lord Galway who’d left her all those months ago. He was different—unburdened but far from lordly.

  How could a man raised in the upper crust of London society somehow lose his aristocratic air?

  He was Gideon, the man she’d pledged to love until her dying breath, but at the same time, he wasn’t.

  “What happened, Gideon?” Sybil asked, her stomach twisted when his expression drew serious. Any hint of a smile was now gone.

  “I requested an audience with your brother and attempted to call on you, but I was turned away,” he admitted.

  “Not now. I mean…what happened while you were gone?” Sybil watched him closely. If he wouldn’t speak of it, at least she could gauge his emotional responses. “Was it another woman?”

  She’d sworn never to verbalize her greatest fear, that Gideon had left for another woman. Briefly, there had been rumors that he’d cried off and fled London to be with another. Lady X’s scandal sheets had blamed Sybil for his disappearance and called into question her standing as a lady of impeccable decorum and morals. It had nearly been enough to have Sybil requesting to journey back to Paris to live with her mother.

  Gideon closed his eyes, turning sharply away from her. “Would it be easier to accept if it were?”

  “Yes.” No. If it were another woman who’d stolen him away, then it would only lead to Sybil doubting everything they’d ever shared—and the continued question of why he was back.

  “I wish I could give you that answer, but…” His words trailed off.

  It wasn’t about another woman. He hadn’t left her because someone else had captured his heart. There was a small measure of comfort in that, at least.

  “Do you plan to leave again?”

  “No, but not everything is within my control.”

  “What does that mean?” Sybil stamped her foot, and her knuckles turned white from her grip on the parasol. “I’ve grown tired of your riddles.”

  “I would offer you the world if I could. However, I do not seek to disappoint you again.” Gideon pivoted and walked back toward the overgrown path. For a brief moment, Sybil feared he was leaving her again, that she’d spoken out of turn, and he was walking away. Turning back, he stalked through the grass carpeting the ground. “I can speak with Lichfield again. Request an audience and plead for forgiveness.”

  “I’m not certain that is wise, Gideon.”

  “Because of Garwood?”

  Sybil shrank back at the name. Gideon knew of her courtship with the duke. She could see the hurt and betrayal in his stare.

  “You were gone for over a year without a word,” Sybil whispered. “There was gossip—“

  “Yes, that I’d taken up as a pirate or made off to Gretna Green with another woman.” He ran his fingers through his sandy brown hair, leaving it delightfully disheveled. “My favorite, I must say, was the report that I’d turned into nothing more than a common highwayman, terrorizing coaches from Dover all the way to Bath.”

  Sybil shook her head back and forth. “I never thought ill of you; however, I was also not certain you’d return. My brother, he—“

  “Wants the best for you.” Gideon halted before her, his eyes searching hers. “I have always wanted the best for you, as well. I thought it was I, but now…I cannot be so certain. Do you love Garwood?”

  A bitter, stilted laugh bubbled up from deep inside her, filling the space around them with a crude sort of irritation. “How can you even ask that?”

  “I must know, Sybil,” he demanded, grasping the parasol from her hand a bit too forcefully and tossing it to the ground. “I needs must know where your heart lies. With me, or with this duke. I will not harbor any ill will toward either of you if you’ve found love in my absence, but I must know the truth.”

  Sybil wasn’t prepared to speak on any matters of the heart, mainly because it was not only her thoughts that were confused and conflicted. Every inch of her knew she loved Gideon, yet why disclose it aloud if it led to further agony?

  Guarded. That was how Garwood knew Sybil; however, she hadn’t always been that way.

  Once, she’d loved openly and freely without fear.

  It was not so anymore.

  Gideon stared down at Sybil. His Sybil. Kind, compassionate, with a hellion streak as long as the road to Edinburgh. His nights were filled with sweet dreams of her, held tightly in his arms. His days were unending hours of longing.

  The long months without her had been torturous.

  He’d never known her to do what was expected. And now was no different. He needed her to reassure him that things had not changed in his absence—that she loved him, and their affection for one another could flourish once more.

  Sybil was not cursed with a tendency for hesitation.

  It was what Gideon admired most about her. She knew what she wanted when he so often questioned his every decision.

  “Sybil?” Gideon despised the begging note in his tone.

  Leaving her as he had was wrong. He’d known it at the time; however, he’d thought the news was yet another wild goose chase, as all the ones before it had been. Two or three days away…that was how long he’d expected to be away from her. Enough time to journey to Dover, check on Giles’ information, and return to London.

  “The last year has been the hardest of my life,” he confessed. More difficult than even those first few months after Charles was taken and Gideon had returned home to admit to both his father and Charles’ sire what had taken place in London. Charles was gone—taken—and Gideon hadn’t any idea where. “I truly long to tell you where I’ve been, what I was doing, and why I needed to stay away. However, I cannot speak of it yet. Just know that I thought of you…survived every moment away because I knew that one day I would come home to you.”

  Gideon ran his finger along her cheek, reveling in the feeling of her soft, warm skin against his.

  For the briefest of moments, he thought himself too weak to keep his secrets from her. He could confess everything and know she would not breathe a word to anyone. Did they not hold many secrets between them?

  Just as quickly, though, doubt set in.
If he told her of his race across the country to rescue Charles, the many months spent moving from place to place as they eluded the hunters who trailed them, he would be putting her in danger. He and Charles had only retuned to London once they were confident they’d shaken the men following them; however, they couldn’t hide forever. If the hunters learned of Gideon’s identity, they would come to town and stop at nothing to take Charles back in order to collect their bounty—and his friend would be lost. Forever.

  No, he couldn’t speak a word of it to anyone until there was confirmation from the Admiralty Court. The paperwork that would ratify Charles’ freedom from the press gangs. Making it so he’d never again need fear for his safety.

  Until that day came, Gideon was sworn to secrecy.

  “Gideon,” she said, stepping back from his touch. “I must go. Esther will likely call for the watchman if I am away for another moment.”

  “Don’t go. Please.”

  “I must.” Sybil collected her parasol, brushing away the leaves that clung to the delicate lace fringe.

  “Allow me to make amends, even if you do not seek to renew our courtship.”

  “I will speak with my brother,” Sybil said. “He will see the error in turning you away from our home.”

  Why was Sybil willing to go to such lengths to mend the relationship between Gideon and her brother? It was Gideon’s place to rectify the situation, not hers. “That is too much.”

  “Do you love me, Gideon?” Her brow arched high as if she expected him to hesitate as she had.

  “Of course,” he confessed, throwing his arms wide. “I love you with everything I am.”

  She nodded, her decision made, though Gideon was uncertain what she’d silently debated.

  “I will come to you after I speak with Silas.”

  “I will meet you—“

  “No, I will come to your house.”

  “You cannot.” Gideon vehemently shook his head. It was too risky for Sybil to be seen at his home—scandal notwithstanding. What if the impressment hunters had tracked Charles and Gideon to London? What if the Admiralty Court sided against Charles and came to collect Gideon as a treasonous man?

  “Why ever not?” she demanded, her annoyance flaring once more.

  Bloody hell but he’d missed her, far more than even he realized. She challenged him, pushed him to the limits of society’s edicts, and had him questioning even his own decisions. How could he turn her away?

  “Please, Sybil.” Gideon closed his eyes to banish the images of Sybil arriving after nightfall on his stoop. She’d ask to enter, and he’d be helpless to refuse. “Things are not what they once were. We are no longer a courted pair. All of London is abuzz with news of your coming betrothal to another.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to say the man’s name aloud.

  “It was not my decision to encourage Garwood’s interest.” Sybil pushed past Gideon toward the trail leading back to the walking path. “Nor will I entertain the courtship any further, my lord.”

  Without another word, Sybil started down the path, using her parasol as a walking stick as she jabbed the pointed tip into the ground, matching the stomp of her booted feet. Gideon might have been amused with her display of irritation, perhaps even called her back to make things right; however, it was not within his power to right anything.

  He could not confess where he’d been all these months.

  He could not tell her why she could not come to his home as she’d done so many times before.

  He could do nothing but promise his love for her, and pray that one day, hopefully sooner rather than later, he would be free to explain everything.

  The upward tilt of her chin as she marched out of view sent a shiver of unease coursing down Gideon’s back. If there was one thing he’d learned about Lady Sybil Anson, it was that when she set her mind to something, her determination knew no bounds.

  Gideon counted the long seconds until half an hour had passed since Sybil fled.

  No matter what Sybil said, Gideon was aware that Lord Litchfield had an aversion to scandal, and if Gideon sought to court Sybil once more, it would serve him well to keep both his name and Sybil’s above reproach.

  Sybil had courted scandal more times than she’d had suitors.

  But her ruination would not come by his hand.

  Chapter 5

  30 March 1816

  The lady loves a scandal. I assure you, my dearest readers, nothing can be closer to the truth about the Earl of Lichfield’s sister. Many say it can only be attributed to her upbringing in France. After all, the French certainly have a way with theatrical wiles. Why ever would Lady Sybil put an end to the Duke of Garwood’s courtship unless she had hopes of Lord Galway coming to heel?

  ~Lady X

  You cannot do this, Silas,” Sybil shouted, the windowpanes rattling in their casing. “You are a brute, a scoundrel, a beetled-headed buffoon!”

  “Sybil,” Lady Lichfield hissed, setting her wine goblet on the table next to her. “That is not necessary.”

  Despite her sister-in-law’s admonishment, Sybil kept her narrowed stare pinned on her eldest brother where he sat behind his desk, a fortunate place for him to rest else Sybil was likely to throw a punch at his perfectly sculpted jaw. The room spun around her, the warmth of the hearth heating her skin as the pungent aroma of cigars burned her nose.

  Silas scrubbed at this face before lifting his stare to hers, his expression mirroring Sybil’s narrowed glare. “You gave me no other option.”

  “France, truly?” Sybil demanded.

  “We will be coming with you,” Mallory insisted. “It will be a family adventure. My first trip to Paris. And I think Slade is amenable to the journey, as well.”

  “Only because his mounting gambling debts will see him in debtor’s prison before the year is out.” Sybil could not believe anything that had happened since she returned from Hyde Park. Determined to speak with Silas, she’d gone immediately to his study, only to have her path blocked by her sister-in-law. “Slade can do whatever he pleases, but when I desire something, I am reprimanded and sent away.”

  “You are not being sent away, Sybil.” Mallory stood, moving toward her, but Sybil sidestepped the woman’s touch. The last thing she needed was her sister-in-law getting one of her premonitions and sending Silas into a fit once more. “We will travel to Paris to visit your mother. Do you not miss her?”

  “Missing my mother has nothing to do with this, and you both rightly know it.” When Silas arched one brow high, Sybil knew she would let Silas win if she didn’t get control of her anger. With a deep breath, Sybil calmed herself and started once more, “As I was saying, it is not my fault that Garwood has cried off. There was no official announcement, and the lord was a stuffy braggadocio anyways. He was more interested in hearing himself talk than listening to anything I had to say.”

  “Be that as it may, he has ended your courtship, but has agreed not to speak on the matter amongst society,” Silas bit out, running his fingers through his onyx hair. “If we wish to say you decided to call off the coming betrothal, the duke is agreeable to that.”

  “Only because he would be labeled a scoundrel if the truth were known.”

  “You did not want to wed Garwood anyways,” Silas refuted.

  Sybil crossed her arms, tapping the toe of her boot on the carpeted floor. “That is neither here nor there.”

  “What is at the root?” Mallory offered.

  “That I am the one being punished,” Sybil sulked, unable to stop the whine in her tone. “I will be sent to France, and Garwood will be free to set his cap on another unsuspecting lady.”

  “Set his cap?” Silas asked. “You say that as if Garwood is a scoundrel, a rogue, and a dastardly lord.”

  Sybil lifted one shoulder. “As if I would know. He was in no way a master at conversation.”

  If her brother succeeded in dragging her to Paris, she’d never see Gideon again. She’d never determine where he’d gone or
learn what had affected him so greatly that he returned a different man.

  “What was my one rule during your debutante Season?” Silas pushed from his chair and walked purposely around his desk until he stood directly in front of Sybil. “What did I beg of you?”

  “Not to create a scandal,” Sybil muttered, averting her stare and tightening her arms across her chest.

  “And what would you call this situation with Garwood?” he prodded.

  “A fortunate turn of events,” she whispered.

  “Try again.”

  “An unfortunate turn of events?”

  “Yes, very unfortunate, especially after that gossipmonger, Lady X, insinuated that you’d been seen—in my home—in an intimate embrace with Lord Galway.” Silas’s nostrils flared with each uttered word. “Can you imagine my surprise that just the other day, a courier arrived with a note from the absent viscount requesting an audience with me? With me, after he disappeared without a trace on the day we were to meet to sign the betrothal contracts.”

  Sybil wanted to correct her brother. Gideon had disappeared the night before the contracts were to be signed; however, she knew it would be unwise to interrupt her brother at this juncture.

  “Did you invite Lord Galway into my home without my knowledge or permission?” Silas queried.

  “No.” It was the truth. Sybil had been shocked to see that Gideon had returned to London.

  “But you knew he had returned?”

  “Of course, not,” Sybil snapped, pivoting away from her brother’s hard stare, fearful of what his next question might be. “I was utterly astounded to see him, but I will not say that it was an unwelcome surprise.”

  “We both know you loved Lord Galway very much…” Mallory allowed the words to trail off as if baiting Sybil into denying her true feelings for the viscount, or admitting that they’d changed in any way over the last year. “It is only that we never want you to be hurt again.”

  “You think Gideon has returned with the purpose of injuring me once more?” Sybil demanded.

  “Heavens, no—” Mallory stepped to Silas’s side and slipped her hand into his. “We do not think he ever meant to harm you—or your reputation. But his reappearance is suspect. Can you not agree?”