It Started With a Whisper

by Dawn Brower

  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

  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?

  ~Whispers from 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?”

  “I most certainly will not agree; however, I can confirm that if you make me leave London, it will be you—the pair of you—who is causing me pain. Not Galway or Garwood…you.” Sybil started for the closed study door, determined to exit the room with her chin high. If she were to cry, it would be in the comforts of her private chambers, not before her brother. “I will bid you both good night.”

  “Sybil, wait,” her brother called, the hard edge leaving his voice.

  “Dear brother, I can assure you that the only thing we will never learn is why Gideon fled London because you turned him away when he requested an audience,” Sybil hissed, refusing to turn back to face Silas. She would have liked to see his expression when he discovered that she knew of his refusal to meet with Gideon; however, she knew tears were not far away. Allowing Silas to witness how gravely she was affected by Gideon’s return would be unwise.

  “What am I to do with you, Sybil?” Silas sighed in defeat. “What will you have me do to fix this muddled mess we find ourselves in?”

  “Have a bit of faith in Gideon, even if you cannot trust in me.”

  “Sybil, your brother loves you dearly,” Mallory countered.

  “Not enough to allow me to experience an ounce of the happiness he has found,” Sybil said, fighting to keep her voice from cracking. “Good night.”

  She raced from the room, slamming the door in her wake. She’d been a fool to think that Silas was capable of allowing her the freedom to choose her own path in life. He’d found love in a most unexpected way with Mallory—along the shores of Bocka Morrow in Cornwall during the Christmastide Season, no less. They’d had nearly five years with one another, experiencing all that marriage offered a wedded couple…while Sybil remained alone. Why could her brother not see that she had also found love in a most unexpected way?

  The implications and repercussions of Silas’s decision to remove Sybil from London would have dire consequences for them both. She was not fighting to be allowed to see the latest onstage play at Covent Gardens. This was not an inconsequential squabble over an increase in her allowance. It would be difficult, likely impossible, for anyone on the outside to see the difference. She’d done just as she had when she was younger—she’d screamed, she’d belittled, and she’d argued until she was in tears.

  Stumbling down the corridor, Sybil entered the servant’s stairwell and climbed to the second floor where the family rooms were located.

  The hall was deserted with only two sconces to light her way.

  She passed Silas and Mallory’s chamber and halted before Slade’s door. No light shone from beneath. Her brother—Silas’s twin—could not be more different than his identical counterpart. Where Silas was rigid and demanding, Slade was uninhibited and insouciant. Silas adhered strictly to societal norms, while Slade flouted convention.

  If she had to place herself in the mix of her family, she would fall as a cross between her two brothers. She was loyal and independent, much like Silas. Though she did not always think that conforming to society’s rules over her own desires was a wise thing.

  Sybil knocked on Slade’s door, but her brother did not answer. He was likely not in residence, choosing to spend his time about town, doing as men were allowed: whatever suited them.

  Perhaps Sybil should do the same.

  Slade had amassed a sizeable gaming debt in the last few years; however, Silas did nothing more than scold him, and he never failed to settle the debts when they were called in.

  Could Silas’s threat of returning her to France be nothing more than that—a simple edict he had no plans to follow through with?

  Either way, Sybil was free of Garwood and their attachment.

  Even though Silas was not agreeable to discussing a renewed courtship between her and Gideon, Sybil had no qualms.

  When her brother had spoken of removing her from England and dragging her across the channel to France, the only thing she’d thought about was Gideon. Her heart still belonged to him, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise.

  Even if Silas would not hear Gideon out, Sybil could, and then she’d attempt to change Silas’s mind. Her brother had to see reason.

  With one final glance at Slade’s door, Sybil turned and continued on to her room. If Silas were unwavering in his course to ruin her future, and Slade wasn’t home to assist her, she needed to find her own way to secure the outcome she desired.

  The night was still early, only two hours after nightfall. Gideon had bid her not to go to him, but if her brother was serious about her departing London, then she needed to speak with Gideon.

  Where he’d disappeared to last year didn’t matter.

  What he continued to hide from her, while irritating, did not change the way she felt about him.

  Together, they could work through everything that stood in their path, Silas included.

  Gideon loved her, he’d told her as much in the park. Yet, she hadn’t been able to tell him in return. She’d been confused and hesitant, but their impeding separation made everything clear.

  Sybil desired Gideon in every sense of the word—his heart, his body, and his forever.

  She loved him, and she’d be damned if she would allow anything to stand in the way of what she wanted.

  Scandal be damned.

  Gideon Lyndon, Viscount Galway, belonged to Sybil, and no one, not the London gossips or her brother, would tell her differently. Even Gideon himself was in the wrong, thinking he could keep her from going to him.

  Slipping into her room, Sybil hurried to the dressing closet to make certain she was alone—which, indeed, she was. Her maid had already turned down her bed and disappeared for the night. Had the entire staff gotten word of the duke crying off?

  That was likely the second-best thing to happen to her that day, number one being Gideon sending word to meet him at Hyde Park, at their secret spot known only to them. As if nothing had changed, the months melted away, and she’d rushed to meet him, not knowing what to expect. Instead of declaring his love once more, he could have broken off their association, pushed her to wed Garwood, and said his final goodbye.

  Her anger and irritation—the months of unending gossip at her expense—did not hold her a
ny longer.

  Sybil loved Gideon, and she’d been a fool not to tell him—letting him believe his feelings weren’t reciprocated.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, she gathered her cloak, muff, and wool scarf, and retraced her steps back to the servant’s stairwell, pausing briefly at Slade’s door. Still, no light shone from below, so she exited the townhouse through the kitchen and slipped into the dark alley beyond.

  Chapter 6

  London is quiet with so many seeking their country homes for the Christmastide and New Year’s holidays; however, this author witnessed quite a display of family quarrels—in the middle of Bond Street, no less. The Earl of Lichfield, with his wife and Lady Sybil in tow, was turned away from Mr. Caruthers’s Shop due to an unpaid bill by none other than Mr. Sladeton Anson, the earl’s twin brother. I do not think this will bode well for finding Lady Sybil a suitable husband…yet, much will be forgiven and forgotten by the time Parliament resumes in the new year.

  ~ Whispers from Lady X

  The sudden heavy pounding that echoed throughout Gideon’s townhouse brought a sudden panic to Charles’ stare as both men set down their utensils and gazed at one another silently across their plates. Despite the roaring fire in the hearth, stoked at least twice an hour, Charles wore a heavy blanket around his shoulders to ward off the chill that his friend said clung to his bones far more adamantly than a mutton chop.

  Gideon had only briefly experienced the frigid night air when he was made to sleep outdoors during the time he and Giles searched the docks for the ship that kept Charles captive. His friend spoke of weeks and months at sea, sleeping on the open deck when the roiling of the ocean permitted, and how the frothy salt water had seeped through even the heaviest of garments.