“That’s why it’s entirely understandable that you would not have conformed to certain standards of behavior,” he said quickly.
“Conformed to certain standards of behavior?” Fury swelled within her. “As you have conformed to certain standards of behavior?”
“Don’t be absurd. That’s entirely different. I’m a—”
“Man?” She said the word as if it left a nasty taste in her mouth, and in many ways it did.
“Well, yes. Society looks at these things differently.”
“I am not especially concerned about society. My only concern is with you.”
“Then there is nothing to be concerned about.” Again he moved toward her. “Your past is—”
“Forgiven?” She thrust out her hand to stop him and shook her head. “My adventures pale in comparison with yours, yet you are above reproach and I am to be forgiven?”
“No, damnation, not forgiven,” he snapped. “That’s not the right word. I don’t know what the right word is.”
“Would you have been happier if I had waited, then, on the off chance that you would come into my life? Sat in this house alone? Perhaps doing fine embroidery or—wait.” She widened her eyes and gasped. “I could have thrown myself into charitable endeavors. Rescuing orphans, women of ill repute, that sort of thing. Oh, I could have been useful and really most acceptable.”
The muscles on the side of his jaw clenched. “You’re being irrational, you know.”
“Yes, I do know!” She cast him a scathing glance. “One tends to be irrational when one realizes—”
“When one realizes what?” he said slowly.
“Gideon.” She drew a calming breath. “You cannot get over my past. I could tell you that nothing meant anything before you. I could tell you as well that I have shared your bed more often than all the other men put together. I could tell you that there have only been three in the past ten years although I suspect you already know that. But I won’t.” Her voice hardened. “I make no excuses for what I have done and the decisions I have made. Nor do I regret them.”
“I am not asking you to,” he said quietly. “What are you asking of me?”
“I don’t know!” She shook her head. “Perhaps I am asking that you accept me as I am.”
“Why?” He studied her. “You show no willingness to accept me as I am.”
She stared at him. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”
“No more so than you. You want the truth from me, Judith, well here it is.” His tone was cool. “I can forgive, overlook, ignore—whatever word you would prefer that I use—your past but I cannot forget it altogether.” He shook his head. “My character is not that strong.”
She shrugged. “Then we have nothing to talk about.”
“We have a great deal to talk about. This—whatever it is between us—is on your terms, it has been from the start, and I have had enough.”
“What do you mean?” she said, although she knew full well what he meant. Hadn’t Susanna warned her about this very thing at the beginning?
“You set the boundaries, expectations, limitations, rules, or what ever you bloody well want to call them. I had no say in the matter and I am tired of them.” Anger sparked in his dark eyes.
“It didn’t seem to bother you at the time,” she snapped.
“It didn’t at the time. However.” His eyes narrowed. “It does now.”
“Why?”
“Because nothing is as it was in the beginning. Bloody hell, Judith, what ever this between us was supposed to be, it’s entirely different now. The expectations, my expectations, my desires if you will, have changed and I have no intention of abiding by your arbitrary rules.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?” He snorted in disbelief. “For one thing, I am apparently not supposed to be jealous of the men who came before me.”
“I never said—”
“No, Lady Dinsmore told me that and I am damn grateful to her that she did.” He grabbed her wrist and raised her hand up. “Is this why?”
“Let me go.” She tried to pull away but he held fast.
“There’s a crook in your little finger so slight I doubt anyone who hasn’t kissed that finger would notice it, but I did. I’ve seen that before on people who have broken a finger. Or rather have had a finger broken.” He trapped her gaze with his. “Who did this to you?”
“No one,” she lied. “It was an accident.”
“Hardly.” He shook his head. “You were a protected, spoiled little girl in your childhood. Spoiled little girls rarely break fingers. If it had been an accident it would have been set properly. This wasn’t.”
“It was an accident,” she said through clenched teeth.
He ignored her. “It couldn’t have been Helmsley. I’ve never seen him show anger of this sort. He’s not the type of man who would hurt a woman, even inadvertently.” Gideon was speaking more to himself than to her. As if he were working out a puzzle in his head. Panic rose within her. “And unless I am a terrible judge of character, nor is Mountford or Nottingdon. Besides, you would not still be cordial to them if they were.”
“Let me go.” She gritted out the words.
“Good God, it was your husband, wasn’t it?” Realization dawned in his eyes, and her stomach twisted. “Was he jealous? Was that it?”
“Stop it!”
“What else did he do to you?” Gideon’s voice was hard.
“Nothing!” She wrenched free and backed away. “He was my soul mate, the love of my life!”
“You were seventeen years old!” Gideon stared. “What did you know of love?”
“He loved me! I loved him!”
“It doesn’t ring true, Judith, it never has.” He shook his head. “It makes perfect sense now. Why you never speak of him. Of your marriage. I should have seen it before.”
“Nonetheless—”
“Who are you trying to convince?” His eyes were dark with unidentifiable emotion. Anger perhaps or pity or both. She didn’t want his pity and at the moment she certainly didn’t care about his anger. “Me or yourself?”
Without thinking she drew her hand back and let it fly. He caught it and yanked her into his arms. “I will not play by your rules anymore.”
“Then we shall not play at all!” She glared at him.
“Oh no, it’s not going to be that easy for you. You cannot walk away from me as you did the others. You cannot end this without recrimination because it has become more than you expected. Or wanted. More than is safe.” His gaze bored into hers. “I will not permit it.”
“You have no choice!” She met his gaze in an unyielding and defiant manner of her own. “You agreed!”
“We also agreed to honesty and you have not been honest.”
“I most certainly—”
“Then be honest now.” He stared into her eyes. “Do you love me?”
Her breath caught. Yes! “No.”
“You’re lying.” He released her, his voice abruptly calm, cool, and remote. “And you do not do it well.”
I do it very well. She drew a calming breath. “I think it’s best if you leave now.”
“Probably.” Gideon studied her for a long moment. “It’s convenient though, isn’t it, Judith?”
“What?”
“This irrational argument. Your excessive anger.”
“I see nothing irrational or excessive. You were condescending and arrogant and superior in your”—she paused to emphasize the word—“forgiveness.”
“You’re right, of course. The fact that I did not intend it as such, that indeed my intent was your defense, as well as my apology, does not negate its offense. Still, your ire strikes me as remarkably clever.” He chuckled in a humorless manner that sent chills skating down her spine. “It serves as a legitimate and expedient way to get me out of your house, perhaps out of your life.”
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Know this though, Judith. R
egardless of the circumstances or jealousy or anything else.” His gaze met hers. “I would not hurt you for the world. Ever.”
Her heart caught and a lump formed in the back of her throat. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms. Instead, she nodded. “You should go.”
“I will for now but, mark my words, you will not be rid of me this easily.” He stalked toward the door, pulled it open, then looked back at her. “Regardless of what you might think at the moment, through all that has happened to night, one truth strikes me with a clarity I have never before experienced.”
“Oh?” She held her breath.
“I am not the one who cannot get over your past, dear Judith.” He shook his head. “You are.” And then he was gone.
“What in the name of all that’s holy are you doing here?” Helmsley glared at Gideon through bleary eyes and cinched his dressing gown tighter. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Of course I do.” Gideon waved off the question. “It’s very late or quite early depending entirely on your point of view.”
“I had no point of view. I was asleep.” Helmsley yawned and shook his head. “Edwards said you insisted he wake me. I trust this is urgent.”
“I assure you it is.” Gideon led the way toward Helmsley’s library. “It’s imperative that I speak with you.”
“Now?” Helmsley trailed behind him.
“I couldn’t sleep.” It was the truth as far as it went, although sleep was the last thing on Gideon’s mind.
He’d left Judith hours ago with every intention of returning to his own house but instead found himself telling his driver to circle the city. He needed to think, to digest, even to analyze what had passed between them, and he certainly couldn’t do so where Aunt Louisa’s interference was not merely possible but probable. She had not been invited to Violet’s soiree, and while she claimed she hadn’t the least desire to attend and indeed would have turned down the invitation had it been issued, she would still no doubt be lying in wait to quiz him on the evening’s events. She’d predicted his attendance would be a mistake and in that, for once, she was right.
“I could certainly sleep. Indeed I was sleeping, quite soundly too.” Helmsley paused at the library door. “This couldn’t wait until morning?”
“No.” Gideon shook his head, then paused. “Well, yes, I suppose. I mean nothing of significance will change between now and morning. Although…” His gaze met Helmsley’s. “I might well be mad by morning.”
Helmsley studied his friend for a moment, then sighed. “I should have expected this, I suppose. Even if you have scarcely spoken to me of late, Norcroft has kept me informed. And you’re here now, so we might as well get on with it.” Helmsley called to his butler. “Edwards.”
“Yes. My lord.” The butler immediately appeared from the shadows.
“Brandy if you please, Edwards, or whisky or something else appropriately suited to the hour.”
“I have placed decanters of both in the library, my lord,” Edwards said as if it were the most natural thing in the world for Helmsley to be entertaining unexpected guests in the wee hours of the night. “Will there be anything else?”
“I do hope not.” Helmsley glanced at his friend. “I daresay you have probably had enough to drink already by the look of you.”
“I look that bad, do I?” Gideon smiled weakly. “In truth, I haven’t had a drink at all since we left Lady Braxton’s party.”
“Oh, well that explains a great deal. If you had indulged appropriately you would be past caring about anything by now and I would still be abed.” Helmsley paused. “A rather interesting gathering, though, didn’t you think?”
“It was certainly interesting. Particularly the guest list. And you needn’t be so circumspect. I am fully aware of who was in attendance and why.”
“Not a coincidence then?”
“No.” Gideon blew a long breath. “Simply a misguided attempt on Lady Braxton’s part to show me the error of my ways in regard to Judith.”
“Misguided?” Helmsley snorted. “You’re a kinder man than I am, Warton.” He led the way into the library. “I did wonder why we had been invited in the first place. Neither Fiona nor I has ever met the woman. I simply assumed between my family and Lady Braxton’s we had either crossed paths or someone in our respective families had.”
“The only connection apparently is Judith. And me. At least your invitation didn’t indicate Judith was interested in resuming your relationship.”
“And Mountford’s and Nottingdon’s did?” Helmsley settled in one of two comfortable chairs positioned before a fireplace. Decanters and glasses sat on a tray placed on a table between the two chairs.
Gideon nodded and sank into the other chair. “You knew of Mountford and Nottingdon then?”
Helmsley selected a decanter and poured two glasses. “You must remember, Judith and I have been friends for a number of years.” He chose his words with care. “Before and even during her other…well…”
“Adventures?”
Helmsley grimaced at the word and handed him a glass. “Yes.”
“Nottingdon was not fooled by Violet’s manipulations but I felt rather sorry for Mountford, who was more than willing to take up with Judith where they had left off.” Gideon sipped his drink, pleased to discover Helmsley had appropriately enough chosen the whisky.
Helmsley raised a brow. “And you call this action of Lady Braxton’s merely misguided?”
“Given my past experience with Violet, to night’s plot was relatively minor. I should think…” Gideon paused and gazed around the room, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Is this your library?”
Helmsley chuckled. “It’s a remarkable transformation, isn’t it?”
“Remarkable isn’t the word for it.” Gideon stared. He’d been far too preoccupied to pay heed to the room at first although he had vaguely noticed something was different.
When Helmsley had bought this house shortly before his marriage, it had come filled with the often bizarre possessions of one of the previous owners. In this room alone, among the riot of color and texture occupying every inch of space, Gideon recalled stuffed and mounted animals, intricate carvings from exotic lands, bronze and stone statuary depicting gods and mythical creatures, and bits and pieces of long-lost civilizations. He had never understood how Helmsley could abide the chaos, let alone like it. But apparently he had and apparently his new wife did not. Now Helmsley’s library looked, well, like a library, with accessible books neatly shelved as well as a desk, chairs, and a visible carpet, all of which might well have been in the room all along. “I don’t believe I saw a fireplace the last time I was here.”
“You probably didn’t. The last time you were here I wasn’t married to a woman who considered it her duty in life to organize my life.” Helmsley nodded at two statues flanking the doorway, life-sized Nubians with crossed spears. “She allowed me to keep those. I must admit I have grown rather fond of them.”
“Very nice,” Gideon murmured.
“I am finding that marriage is an odd and unique state. Probably because it’s between men and women.” Helmsley sipped his drink thoughtfully. “In many ways our two minds are very much alike, yet we view the world from completely different perspectives.”
“Even I could have told you that.”
“You could have, but observation is not at all the same as experience.” Helmsley shrugged in a sage manner that a man wearing a dressing gown should never attempt. “I can tell you it’s a far cry from the simple observance of marriage to being in the thick of it.”
Gideon stared. “So you’ve become an expert in—what? Six weeks now since you were joined in the bonds of wedded bliss?”
“It’s the not quantity of time,” Helmsley said in a lofty manner, “but the quality of the hours together.”
“Then put that newfound wisdom to use.” Gideon drew a deep breath. “Help me, Jonathon. I don’t know what to do.”
At once the atmosphere in the room sobered.
“About Judith, you mean?”
“Yes, about Judith.” Gideon got to his feet and paced the room. “Who else would I be talking about?”
“Well, Lady Braxton is—”
Gideon shot him a sharp glance.
“Yes, of course. Stupid of me.” Helmsley grimaced. “Sorry.”
“You know Judith better than anyone except perhaps Lady Dinsmore.”
“Possibly.” Helmsley blew a long breath. “And yet, in spite of our long acquaintance, I daresay I don’t know her at all.” He paused. “But I know you.”
Gideon narrowed his eyes. “And?”
“And I am curious as to what happened between the two of you to night, especially given your presence here now. I saw nothing untoward at the party, nor did I hear anything, therefore I assume Lady Braxton’s plan did not succeed.”
“Not really.”
Helmsley raised a brow.
“At least not in the way she had intended it. It did however prompt me to make a comment that ultimately triggered a nasty disagreement between Judith and myself.” Even now Gideon couldn’t believe the sheer stupidity and, yes, arrogance of what he had said. “I said I had forgiven her her past indiscretions.”
Helmsley stared in obvious disbelief. “You didn’t?”
“I did and you needn’t look at me like that,” Gideon said sharply. “I have already chastised myself quite enough, thank you. I did try to explain to her that I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. That I didn’t mean forgive so much as I meant overlook.”
Helmsley choked.
“Yes, yes, I know. That’s almost as stupid but I didn’t know what to say.” Gideon struggled to pull his thoughts together. “I was trying to explain that her past doesn’t matter to me, and it doesn’t for all intents and purposes, but it is there. It does exist as much as anything else about her exists and as such it cannot be completely ignored or entirely forgotten. But…”
“But?”
“But I don’t condemn her for it. It doesn’t mean I think any less of her. I don’t. Not at all. I think she’s…” Gideon shook his head. “I think she’s quite wonderful. She’s clever, she’s lovely, she’s amusing. I think she’s everything any man could ever want.”
A Little Bit Wicked Page 22