Then Gibson realized that all of this evening was a gift, from the ball to the fine new evening clothes that he wore, to the carriage and four that had conveyed him to the Chillton home. Even the presence of Lady Isabelle, in her horrid gray gown, was a gift and far more than he had ever imagined not quite a year ago when he had first fallen in love with a cool English beauty in a front entrance hall.
The greatest gift he had received however, was Amy's heart. Nothing was more precious to him than that.
"Even Lord Faraday seems to be coming around." Amy nodded in the direction of another potted plant where the young buck was chatting up Miss Letitia Worth, pulling Gibson from his thoughts. "The two of them would suit nicely, I think." Then she scanned the crowd. "I take it Lord Drake has not recovered sufficiently to be seen in public?"
"No," Gibson confirmed as he found Amy a seat where she might rest. He suspected she might already be with child, but he wasn't certain yet. Still, no sense in taking a risk. "Dr. Hastings is still attending to him. He is seeing to your mother this evening as well."
After the events at Cheltenham House, Lady Evenston had suffered a minor setback in her recovery. Since the pressure of dealing with Michaels, even though she hadn't known his true motives for being in the family's lives on a daily basis, had brought on her attack in the first place, the confrontation in the morning room had given her "heart flutters" as she called them. Hastings had suggested that more bed rest might be in order, especially now that Lord Evanston had returned home and could resume running the household - provided he was not still working for the crown at the present time. It was a suggestion that everyone in the family had agreed with heartily.
"I do not particularly care for Lord Drake, as you well know, but I also do not believe him to be all bad." Amy looked up at Gibson through lowered lashes. "He did send you to me that morning, after all."
And for that reason alone, Gibson knew he would forever be in Lord Drake debt, at least to some degree. It rankled a bit, but, as Marcus had reminded Gibson just the other day, better to be in some degree of debt to a man like Drake, than to have lost Amy forever to a man who should have been locked up in Bedlam long ago.
"That he did," Gibson finally agreed. "But let us think of more pleasant things." He was about to suggest a list of things they could discuss, including where they might honeymoon after their wedding, which still had yet to be decided, when the crowd parted to allow Lady Diana Saintwood to pass.
"Lady Amy!" the other woman cried, and Gibson thought the smile on her face to be rather genuine. "I am so very glad to see you." Then she offered a curtsey to Gibson. "Lord Ardenton. I am very pleased to finally make your acquaintance." She should have waited for a proper introduction, but Gibson didn't mind. The young woman was enthusiastic and welcoming. That was good enough for him. "Please excuse my informality, but I could not wait to offer my congratulations."
Gibson sketched a low bow. He was thankful that all of his training to be a viscount had not fled his mind over the years. "Please, my lady, do not think a thing of it. I am only happy that my lovely wife to be has such good friends."
Diana's eyes sparkled, and he could see a hint of mischief there, but no malice. She was, he decided, cut from a slightly better cloth than her mother in that regard, though he was warming somewhat to Lady Sainthill. Like the others, she was not all bad, either. "We are only too glad that Lady Amy has finally has found a man worthy of her." Then Lady Diana lowered her eyes, a bit of the sparkle dimming. "I also wanted to apologize for my cousin, Lord Drake. His actions the past few weeks were unconscionable. I pray we might still be friends even after all the damage he has wrought."
It had taken a good deal of courage to say what she had, and Gibson admired her greatly for it. He only hoped that Amy saw things the same way.
Amy reached out and grasped Lady Diana's hand in her own. "Do not give it another thought. The past is just that. In the past. It is over and done with. We shall go on from here." She fanned herself lightly, and Gibson was again struck with the suspicion that she was already carrying his child. "Can we expect to see you and your family at our wedding, I hope?"
"Yes. Of course." Lady Diana was obviously pleased at the easy forgiveness that Amy had offered. "Oliver and I will be there, as will my mother. It is certain to be the event of the season." She beamed again and Gibson decided that he liked her infectiously happy manner. It was a refreshing change from the rest of the rigidity of the ton. "Of course, anyone who is anyone will be present." Then she looked beyond Amy to the far corner of the room, something obviously catching her eye. "I am sorry to be so rude. My manners are not usually this appalling. However, I see my brother beckoning to me. Oliver has been in a snit all evening. I really do need to see what is the trouble now." With a quick curtsey to both Amy and Gibson, she hurried off.
When she had departed, Gibson turned back to Amy. "She reminds me of a hummingbird."
"Oh, hush." However Amy's eyes sparkled with the same light that Lady Diana's had. He supposed that meant she was happy, too. She seemed it, anyway. "She is a delight. Not to mention that support from the Saintwood family will also go a long way in helping us establish ourselves in society."
"We also have the support of Radcliffe, Colderidge and a few others. Candlewood, too, since he's Lady Radcliffe's brother, if he ever stops scowling at people and scaring them away. I suspect even Faraday might be amenable. He's not really such a bad sort, I suppose." It wasn't lost on Gibson that, despite how far he had come, there was still some distance to go before he could claim true acceptance in society.
In some cases, he knew he would never be accepted, particularly by some of the older matrons. However with the support of certain influential families behind him, he could restore some of the luster to the Ardenton name. At the very least, he would make certain that his mother and sister were remembered properly, as they should have been had they lived to see this day.
As if she knew what he was thinking, Amy squeezed Gibson's hand. "They would be proud of you, you know. I am sorry, however, that neither Aria nor Harriett lived to see the family name restored."
Gibson looked skyward for a moment. "They know, my love. I am certain of it." He still felt unworthy of everything that was happening to him, but if he could see his mother's and sister's good names restored, that would be something.
"As am I." Amy's heart swelled with love for the man standing beside her. He was everything her heart had ever desired and more. She owed him everything - including her life. "And we will find a way to honor them once we return to Wintercrest."
"I cannot believe my good fortune that everything is still as it was at the house when my father was led away. Packed and covered, even. Not a plate or furnishing out of place." Gibson had been incredulous that morning when a courier had arrived with the papers regarding the transfer of Wintercrest into his name, along with the accounts containing the Ardenton fortune, the jewels, and everything else entailed to the estate. Including the betrothal ring he had longed to place on Amy's finger. When the courier had handed Gibson the box, along with a note that it had been kept safe for just such an occasion, he had wanted to weep with joy.
The official conferring of his new title would occur tomorrow at Carlton House, something else that was happening far faster than he had anticipated. It was as if once Prinny had made up his mind to restore Gibson's family title, it was to be done immediately. No questions asked.
"I think that was Prinny's plan all along," Amy said, accepting congratulations from another couple as they passed. "That is why he made you a royal physician after all. To determine if your moral character was better than that of your father's." She shrugged and rubbed absently at her stomach. "I also believe that he felt guilty in many ways. His father has done a great many people a disservice in fits of madness. This is simply correcting yet another wrong."
The first strains of a waltz were beginning, and Gibson gallantly offered Amy his hand. "Whatever the reason, I am grateful.
To you. To our prince. To everyone here who has accepted me." He meant every word. It had taken a great deal of courage for so many people to flout convention and accept him into society. He would not easily forget that.
"You laid the groundwork, you know," she reminded him as he led her onto the dance floor. "With your medical skills and kind heart, not to mention your strong sense of honor, these people knew long ago that you were not like you father. They knew you were a better man. I did. From the moment I met you."
As the music began to flow around them, Gibson felt his heart swell once more. This was the dream he never thought he would achieve, the happiness he thought would always be denied him. Yet here he was, with the woman he loved in his arms. This was his life. It was real. It was perfect. And it was all his.
"I love you, Amy," he whispered as they swirled about the floor of the glittering ball. "My love. For now and for always."
"And I love you, Gibson," Amy replied, her eyes soft and dreamy, as if she too could feel the magic of this night weaving its spell around them. "For always." Then she grinned at him, a sexy smile meant only for his eyes. "Even when we cause a scandal."
Epilogue
Late August, 1819
Seldon Park
Sussex
Amy listened to the rain drumming on the roof, but she didn't care how fast or hard water fell from the skies. She was safe and sound inside the partially sealed summerhouse on the grounds of Seldon Park. She was warm and wrapped in the embrace of her husband, sleepy and sated after making love for the second time in a little over an hour. At least she thought it was an hour. Who was counting, after all? When she was with Gibson, time had little meaning.
It had been something of a miracle to convince Nicholas to allow her and Gibson the exclusive use of the summerhouse, especially considering that a large house party for the wedding was occurring at the same time. However, at heart, the Duke of Candlewood was a romantic, and he had seen fit to allow it. Probably with a little convincing from his sister as well.
"Has it really been only a year since we were first here?" Gibson asked as he turned over in the bed Amy had requested be brought to the summerhouse for her and Gibson's use. "It seems to me as if I have lived a thousand lifetimes since then."
"Only a year," she teased, rising up so that he might suckle on her breasts, which were already aching with need. Much to her disappointment, as well as Gibson's, she was not yet with child, but she hoped that this interlude at Seldon Park might change that. The timing was right, and she could think of no better moment to conceive a child with the man she loved than on the anniversary of their first coming together. "But what a year it has been."
"I cannot think of a better way to spend it than with you, sweeting." Gibson's eyes were full of desire, and she wondered if her body looked as luscious as his did with the shadowy candlelight illuminating his skin to a golden glow. He used the same endearment he had that first day, the one she had come to love so much, and her heart soared. Oh, how she loved this man.
When Amy had first approached Nicholas about use of the summerhouse, she had insisted that he needn't send staff to prepare it, other than to have the bed brought in. The mustier and, to some degree, dustier, the better. She wanted it as close to the way it had been that day as possible. However, Nicholas, being a duke, had decided that some touches of comfort might be appreciated. He hadn't been completely wrong in that regard.
One door had been left unlocked, rendering it unnecessary for them to break in. Candles had been set about the room, along with a taper to light them. Fresh linens covered the bed, and two chairs, along with a small, round table had been uncovered and dusted as well. A hamper of food had been left in a wash bin surrounded by two blocks of ice to keep it cool in the summer heat. A bottle of champagne, along with a note of congratulations from the duke was also waiting for them
Amy smiled at Gibson with a wicked glint in her eyes. "You do have a way with words, my love. You practically had Lady Saintwood in a swoon at your feet yesterday. That in itself is rather an accomplishment." It had been common knowledge amongst the ton that Ursula Saintwood still despaired the loss of Amy as a potential wife for her nephew, Lord Drake. Even though she also knew that it was for the best.
Drake, however, seemed content with the turn of events and had even come to Amy and Gibson's wedding, even though he had kept to the shadows in the back of the church to prevent his damaged face and battered body from being seen. He had also sent a small gift in the form of an expensive bottle of scotch to Gibson. The accompanying note asked Gibson to save a drink for Drake at White's in the near future. It was a gesture of truce, and one that Gibson took in the spirit that it was offered. He knew he could have refused, but what would have been the point? Drake had come to Gibson when Amy was in danger. That alone erased a great deal of animosity Gibson held towards the other man.
"She is not as bad as all of that," he laughed easily. "Not to mention that Diana is now one of your good friends as well. I was merely being polite. And the woman did need a distraction, what with the way Lord Downing was mooning after Diana. If I did not know Adam so well, I would think he was toying with the girl, but I treated him and his family for some time while they were in London last fall for the Little Season. He is a good man. Not at all like his father was. If he has interest in Diana, then he is sincere."
Amy laughed as well, marveling at how easily her husband was slipping into his new place in society. "I had no idea. No wonder Ursula was in such at state at the wedding breakfast. If she finds out that her son is secretly courting Lord Coleridge's sister as well, she will surely go into raptures and might pass away from sheer joy." It was no secret that Ursula Saintwood wanted the best possible matches for her children, even to the point of trying to arrange one. That both of her children might make brilliant matches on their own that included love would surely send the woman into a fit of the vapors.
"If her children end up as happy as we are, that should be enough for her." Gibson rolled over, taking Amy with him. He had dreamed of being able to be with her day after day, freely and openly worshiping her magnificent body and loving her with all that he was. "At least no one died this year. That is something we should all be thankful for, me in particular. I am out of the medical practice, for a time anyway, and do not wish to be dragged back in quite yet."
It had been decided that since Wintercrest, as well as the rest of the Ardenton estates, needed a great deal of time and attention, Gibson would finally put all of his youthful training to proper use. With the help of some of Lord Evanston's advisors, Gibson would learn how to fully manage his properties, deal with tenants, and tend to other estate matters.
He still found all of the books and numbers boring, but he did not want anyone to be able to take advantage of him, especially since much had changed since he had been at school. Then, once matters were put to rights and he was confident in allowing others to manage affairs, he might return to medicine, at least to some degree. It was gauche for men of wealth to work. He knew that. However, he also knew that he had useful knowledge and would not be able to sit idle as many of his new peers did.
Gibson also knew he could take up his seat in the House of Lords if he chose, but he wasn't ready for that quite yet. He wasn't certain that he ever would be.
Amy could see the wheels turning inside Gibson's mind and knew she had to put a stop to it. She did not want him thinking. He did that far too much, often seeing problems were there were none. However, that was also one of the reasons why she loved him - because he cared. About everyone. Even those that the rest of society placed labels on and then disregarded. People like her.
She might have once been labeled The Paragon, but society had forgotten the real woman beneath the mask. Or, if not forgotten, precisely, then ignored. The people she knew chose not to see the woman behind the mask, instead preferring to see only perfection and beauty, a woman incapable of making a misstep or a mistake. A woman without feelings. Sometimes, Amy w
ondered if anyone other than Gibson had ever really seen her as a woman at all, or if all anyone had ever seen was a false idol, something to worship and aspire to, as if she was no longer human.
Gibson, however, had seen her. He had looked at her that first day in Lady Julia's entrance hall and seen beneath the mask of perfection to the imperfect woman beneath. A year ago, he had looked past her label as a prize to be won, and instead, saw a woman who longed for love and affection. A woman who wanted to break out of her shell and be something more than she currently was.
He had once told her that she saw a better version of himself than he actually was, but she felt the reverse was true as well. Gibson saw a more human version of Amy than she, or anyone else, had ever glimpsed. He had been brave enough to love her, even when he knew he shouldn't. That was a gift she could never repay, but would spend the rest of her life trying.
Rising up, she kissed him and pushed at his chest, urging him to roll over again. She liked being in control of their lovemaking on occasion and today was one of those times. It drove him wild and took his mind off the few remaining doubts that he had about his place in society. Perhaps they would always be there. If they were, it was her job to soothe them away at times like this.
Sliding up the length of her husband's body, Amy moved to sit astride him, already feeling the hard evidence of his arousal. God, she loved him. All of him. She loved him so much that she thought her heart might burst with it. "I cannot think of a better man for me." She stroked his face tenderly. "Gibson, I loved you when you were poor, a physician of no title or wealth. I love you now as an earl with all of the wealth and property one could desire. Remember that. Always. Rich or poor, to me it makes no difference. Just so long as you always see me for who I truly am." Then she leaned down and kissed him, wondering if there was any way that they could return to this spot year after year for an anniversary of sorts. It was, after all, where their scandal had begun.
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