The entire experience was thrilling, and Amy had never felt so alive in her entire life. If it all ended tomorrow, she would not regret a thing. She had broken free of that proverbial glass case. She was no longer The Paragon, even if she and Gibson were the only two people who knew. In her opinion, they were the only two who mattered anyway.
If the countess knew what was going on beneath her roof, she gave no indication. Though her speech was improving, Thea still tired easily and communicating was sometimes difficult. She did make occasional mentions about the unusual freedoms Amy was currently being granted, but each time, someone, usually Amy, would remind her mother that Lady Berkshire's woman, Isabelle, was always present at social functions and that Grace, Amy's maid was present every other time she went outside the house.
Except, of course, for that day in the park when she and Gibson had successfully managed to elude Grace completely, though not initially on purpose. That incident, of course, was not mentioned, especially not by Grace who was in fear of losing her position if the countess discovered she had lost track of her charge.
Amy also did not mention to her mother that Lord Drake was growing ever more persistent in his pursuit of her, though she knew she should. If she did, then perhaps Thea could somehow find a way to dissuade the young buck. On the other hand, it might make matters worse. For every improvement the duchess made with her health, she also took a step back in her recovery a time or two, pushing herself too hard and tiring far too quickly. It was those times that Amy would sit with her mother and read or perhaps embroider, though she was abysmal at the art.
For his part, Gibson, too, worked hard to maintain the charade as well, never appearing as anything more than a proper physician and occasional escort when they were out in public, which was most evenings and some afternoons. There was also still no word from either Marcus or the Earl of Evanston, which concerned Gibson greatly.
The only truly dark moments came when, inevitably, Lord Drake came to call each day. At both Gibson's and Michaels' direction, the young buck was refused entrance each time, but that did not stop him from coming anyway. Each day, he was there on the doorstep with flowers or another trinket in hand in a vain attempt to win Amy's affections.
Gibson had also heard rumors that Drake was bragging at White's that he was close to discovering Amy's secret and forcing a union between them. Her hand in marriage - as well as her considerable dowry and social influence - in exchange for his silence. Had Gibson been able, he would have gone into the exclusive club and beaten the man to a bloody pulp. However, the doors were barred to a man like him and always would be, yet another reminder that his time with Amy was slowly running out.
As for Marcus? Well, Gibson wanted to say that the current Viscount Breckenright would return home from Bath soon, but as the days passed with no word, that was appearing increasingly unlikely. Much to Amy's dismay, as well as Gibson's.
Instead, Gibson focused his attentions on Lady Evanston's health, praying that if she were soon well enough to re-assume some limited duties, she might be able to fend off Drake until her husband returned. The countess would not have the same imperious clout as the earl, of course, but she was a formidable woman in her own right, and Gibson had no doubt that she would make certain the man stopped sniffing around Amy's skirts.
Though Thea's health was rapidly improving, she was still not completely well, nor able to run the household as she should. Her speech, however, was much improved, and she could give orders, at least on a limited basis. For her own safety, much to his chagrin, Gibson had suggested that she continue to leave the running of the estate to Michaels, and while the countess did not look exceptionally pleased at the suggestion, she had agreed. Grudgingly.
When she was awake, Thea spent the majority of her time organizing a new ladies aid medical society, just as she and Amy had discussed the night of the near-fatal attack. Gibson highly encouraged this, not just because it gave the countess something to do but because it helped to occupy her mind, forcing her brain to move through logical pathways and making her old thought processes reemerge.
There was no medical basis for his treatment of her, of course, only a gut instinct, but with each day that passed, Thea seemed to become more alert and awake. It was a heartening sight for all concerned. Especially Amy, which she was quick to confide to her friend Julia when the duchess stopped by one morning for a brief social call.
"So your mother is doing well?" Julia asked as she settled herself on the settee in the drawing room, her skirts pooling around her gracefully. It was not lost on Amy that only a year ago, the roles were reversed, and she and the countess were calling on Julia in an attempt to help the young woman fight off the vicious rumors swirling around her and the Duke of Radcliffe.
"Splendidly," Amy confirmed as she poured a cup of tea before offering Julia a biscuit. Even though it was only late morning, the entire Cheltenham household had been up and about early, just as they had been every day since the countess' attack. Necessity often trumped convention, at least in the earl's household, and Amy held fast to that belief. "Gibson believes that within a day or so, she can be moved to a chair for part of the time to continue to recovery rather than remain confined to the bed the entire day."
Julia's eyes twinkled with mirth. "Gibson, is it? I see."
Amy winced at her choice of words and picked up her own teacup. "We have grown close," she confessed, needing to confide in someone. Who better than Julia to understand an unconventional love? "More so than I had ever imagined, in truth."
Julia reached over to pat her friend's hand. "Do not worry, my friend. For what it is worth, I believe that you and Gibson are good for one another." She laughed a bit, a tinkling sound that Amy had not heard in a very long time. She hadn't realized how much she missed the company of her friends until that moment. "A year ago, I could not imagine saying such a thing, as meek and timid as I was, but time changes us all."
"That it does." Amy took a sip of her tea before replacing the cup in the saucer. "And I fear it is changing me more than I had realized."
"Does that mean you are ready for marriage, then?" It was no secret among the members of the ton that Amy was constantly being pressured to marry, but Julia had assumed her friend was comfortable with her near-spinster status and had no wish to make a trip to the altar. She had never given any indication otherwise. "I had assumed you were far from reaching a decision. Though," the duchess admitted with a secret smile, "I can only say good things about the institution at the moment." Then she stroked her stomach lovingly and for a moment, Amy felt a burst of envy rush through her.
She wanted what her friend had. A husband who loved her. A babe on the way. A life. A home. And she never would. At least not unless she was willing to forgo love in order to have those things. The truth of her situation struck home as it never had before.
Something must have shown on her face for Julia put a comforting hand on her arm. "I am sorry, Amy. I did not think before I spoke. I know that you are in love with Gibson, and that there are great obstacles to a union between the two of you."
Amy's eyes snapped up in fear. "How? We have been so discreet! We were so certain that no one knew!" Well, not as discreet as they could have been, perhaps.
Julia moved closer and pulled Amy's hands completely into hers. "We may not have been friends long, but I think that by now, I know you well enough. I see the longing in your eyes when you look at him, not to mention the way he gazes at you when he thinks no one is watching. It is the way Benjamin and I looked at each other last season. To most, it looks like nothing more than a passing infatuation, a tempting of scandal that will never come to pass." Then Julia sighed and bit her lip. "But for a woman like me who has seen that side of unrequited love, well, it is obvious."
Hanging her head, Amy brushed away the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Damn her renegade emotions anyway. "We cannot be together. Ever. And, in the beginning, I thought I would be satisfied with what little ti
me we had. A few stolen caresses should have been enough."
"But they are not, are they?" Julia spoke as if she knew from experience.
Amy shook her head sadly. "No, they are not. I long to be able to waltz with Gibson more than just once under the guise of a medical examination. I long for us to be like a couple properly courting. I want to announce to the ton that I have found the man I love, and that I wish to marry him."
Julia was quiet for a few moments, pondering Amy's words. "You do truly love him." It was a statement and not a question.
"With all of my heart." Amy could not deny it any longer. "I did not want to fall in love with him. I did not set out upon this path, but," she shrugged helplessly, "it seems I was destined to fall long before I realized it."
"Last summer at Seldon Park when I wed Benjamin. It truly began for the two of you then, didn't it?" As Amy's friend, Julia offered no recrimination, simply understanding.
Amy rose and walked to the window, staring through the wavy glass to the mews beyond. "It began then, yes." She turned to look back at her friend with a resigned sigh. There was no reason not to confess the rest. "I had thought that time might diminish what I felt while we were there. That it would become less real to me as the months passed." She rested her head against the cool glass. "It, was, after all, a moment out of time. We were free of town and, for the most part, of society as well. I was not The Paragon, and he? Well, he could be anything he wanted."
"He was not confined to his normal role as the son of a disgraced viscount." Julia, it seemed, knew all of Gibson's history as well, though that didn't surprise Amy in the least.
"We were lovers. In a way. He was everything to me that day. He still is." The words were out before Amy could stop them. "He did not take my innocence. You must know that he would not dishonor me in that way, even though I, well...anyway." Amy was still not ready to admit the full truth of her past, even to her best friend. Yet the words were so close to the surface, but she pushed them back down. "But we were naked together. We...did...things."
Julia nodded in understanding, a small smile on her lips, as if the last of the puzzle was falling into place. "The afternoon of the rain when you both vanished. I suspected something was afoot, but Benjamin told me I was being foolish and meddlesome." She worded her next question carefully, as if she was afraid of offending Amy. "Has it happened again since then?"
Amy didn't answer. She couldn't. And her silence was all of the confirmation that Julia needed. "Oh, Amy. My friend, I am so sorry. I did not know you were in so deeply. This is not just a passing love, then, but rather something far stronger."
With a sigh, Amy pushed away from the window and returned to where Julia was still seated. "It does not signify. We both know that it must end. We are realistic about that, at least. My mother's health is improving and soon, there will be no reason for Gibson to continue to escort me about town. My father, or perhaps even Marcus, will return and our time together will end. We both know that it must. That course of action is only right and proper. And we have both accepted that as the way it must be."
Julia rose to embrace her friend. "The heart very often ignores what is right and proper. If it did not, well, then we would all be leading very different lives." Amy knew Julia was referring to her own situation last season when she had planned to retreat to Seldon Park after a season in London and spend the rest of her life in seclusion rather than risk ridicule by allowing society to view her scars every day. "And, I have found that, very often, the heart wins out in the end, even when the head says that it is impossible."
Amy had no response for her situation was completely different from that of her friend. Julia was a lady and the sister of the Duke of Candlewood. Benjamin was a duke, as well as a wealthy and powerful man in his own right. The situations weren't at all similar. "I pray that you are right," Amy finally said with more courage than she felt. "For if the head wins, then I am a spinster forever." That thought was not as appealing as it had been a little less than a fortnight ago.
"Lord Drake would marry you, as I am certain you well know," Julia teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. Amy made a horrified face, eliciting a laugh from her friend. "Ah, there is the Amy Cheltenham that I know and love." Leaning down, the duchess gathered up her reticule. "I'm afraid that I must leave now, as we have an engagement tonight, a musicale at the Devonmont's." It was not lost on Amy that an incident at the very same musicale the previous season had sparked the beginning of Julia's great love affair with Radcliffe.
Nodding, Amy began escorting her out, not wishing to bother Towson and wanting a few more moments alone with her friend. "Gibson and I will be there as well." She didn't mention the directive to her friend. There was no sense to it, and it would only trouble Julia further. "I do not particularly wish to attend, but we must keep up appearances."
"And keep Lord Drake at bay." Julia turned serious then, a frown marring her delicate features. "Please, Amy, be wary of him. He is dangerous, at least according to Benjamin. The family coffers are emptying rapidly, and they need replenished soon or else the family will come to ruin. He will do everything within his power to refill them and that includes scandalizing you into marriage."
"I will be careful," Amy promised, having no idea how to keep the man away from her. Thus far, while he had not approached her directly for several days, he was always there, lurking in the background, as if waiting for his opportunity to pounce. The daily appearances at her door were becoming bolder as well, and she feared he might try something more daring and soon.
"The man will not lay a finger on her. On my honor."
Amy's eyes flew to the doorway of the drawing room where Gibson stood, his face dark and his golden eyes stormy. "Gibson! Is there a problem?" Simply seeing him standing there glowering and looking very much like an angry, avenging angel she forgot herself for a moment and rushed to his side.
"Just this." He pulled a battered looking bouquet of roses from behind his back. "They were on the front stoop when I returned with your mother's new bandages." Despite all of his efforts, the countess' head injury still seeped a bit, and Gibson was determined to find the proper bandages for it, even if he had to scour all of London himself. He handed Amy the flowers. "There was also a note." Then he turned to Julia and bowed low and elegantly. "My lady."
She waved him off with twitch of her lips. "Enough, Gibson. There is no ceremony between us. Not when we are out of the view of prying eyes and you have stitched up my battle wounds." Then she turned back to her friend. "What does it say? I fear it is probably something truly horrid."
With trembling hands, Amy took the note and flipped it open, the heavy black script swimming before her eyes for a moment.
Thank you for a wonderful evening. It was enchanting, and I long to be in your presence again.
-Drake
"The man is insane!" Amy cried, her eyes flying first to Julia and then to Gibson. "Gibson and I were at the opera last night! Everyone saw us! Lady Isabelle was there! This cannot be happening!" She was on the verge of true panic and knew she must calm down. Steadying herself by placing a hand on the back of the settee, she drew a deep breath and tried to think rationally. "Drake is determined to bring scandal upon me. I cannot allow that."
Yes, she and Gibson had been seen in public, but they had left the theater early. She had been tired, and, as always when she was out these days, it felt as if someone was watching her. She had wanted to leave, and Gibson had accommodated her. They had not been seen for the rest of the evening, not even making an appearance at another ball or a soirée of any kind.
Gibson sniffed, a disgusted look on his face. "I inquired at a few places first thing this morning, and Drake was nowhere to be found last night. I suspect it is all part of his plan. It is a nasty game that he plays with your future." He looked at Amy, his normally placid golden eyes stormy once more, and she was reminded again that he had been raised to be a peer, not a physician. "We must be extremely careful. Now more so than
ever." There was more that he was not telling her given the expression on his face, but Amy had the distinct impression that he wanted to be alone before they spoke. He was not going to withhold the information completely this time.
Then Gibson turned to Julia, his expression mild, though Amy was not fooled for a moment. "Are you and your husband attending the musicale at the Devonmont's this evening?" From the set of his jaw, it was clear he was already formulating a plan.
"We are," the duchess confirmed lightly, studying her old friend through shrewd, all-seeing eyes. "I take it you will be attending as well?
He nodded briskly. "We will. And, if you and the duke do not mind, we will be in your vicinity the entire evening. Lady Evanston is recovering well, and I fear a scandal could set back her recovery a great deal." He worked his jaw, trying to ease some of the tension. "Not to mention that the last thing any of us want is Amy trapped in a marriage to that unabashed rake who will only mistreat her. She deserves to be happy."
Julia regarded Gibson silently for a moment, as if she was trying to determine his motives. Then she smiled with a secretive look in her eyes. "She will be. Happy, that is." There was a confidence in her voice that Amy herself did not feel. "With family and friends like those she has now, I do not see how it could be otherwise." Then, with a small inclination of her head, Julia was gone, leaving Gibson and Amy alone in the hallway.
He waited a few moments before speaking as he gathered his thoughts. He did not want to tell her what he had learned, but he knew that he must. No more secrets. "There is finally news from the Runner I hired. He may have a lead on who might be a threat to you, though how he connects to the directive, I do know now."
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