The Lady Loves A Scandal_Regency Novella

by Christina McKnight

  Sybil couldn’t help but wonder what the magistrate would do if his words were challenged.

  “As we said, we ain’t got no paperwork,” the sailor, Donovan, argued.

  “We couldn’t read it even if’n we did,” his conspirator muttered.

  “Then it appears you have no standing here.” Silas clapped his hands, signaling the end of it all. “Gentlemen, it is time you depart.”

  The sailors glared at Silas and Gideon, but never did their eyes meet Sybil’s. They knew they had no recourse to collect Charles, though they were having a difficult time accepting the fact.

  On each side of her, Sybil felt the coiled strength of her brother and Gideon—the man she loved—ready to do battle if it came to that.

  “Gentlemen, let us retire inside,” Sybil called to the party at large, lifting her chin a notch. “These fellows are leaving, and I will not have this day marred by bloodshed. It is not every day a woman accepts the marriage proposal of the man she loves with all her heart.”

  Gideon and Silas held their ground until the seamen mounted their horses and fled the drive, while Sybil led Charles and Mr. St. Paulson inside. She didn’t pause until they’d entered the study she and Gideon had been in earlier. A servant must have tended to the fire while they were outside, and a refreshment cart with cakes and steaming tea had been rolled close to the sideboard.

  She couldn’t help but smile as she offered both men drinks and food while they waited for Silas and Gideon to join them. She hoped that their alliance had been solidified in an unbreakable manner. Sybil had no intention of departing England or turning away Gideon’s offer of marriage.

  In fact, Sybil was past the age of needing her brother’s approval to wed, and with the magistrate present, the matter could be handled with a swift edict from a court official. It had been Silas who’d brought the man when the entire situation should have been handled privately amongst their families.

  Her stomach twisted at the mere thought of needing to go to such great lengths to prove to her family that Gideon was the man she chose to spend the rest of her life with.

  She handed both men cups and small plates filled with delicate pastries and sandwiches and they settled, the magistrate taking a straight-backed chair away from the fire while Charles sank to the lounge, propping his cane against the wall. Helping herself to a plate, she lowered to sit beside Charles as he stared silently into his cup.

  “Charles?” she asked. “Is there something else I can get for you?”

  His eyes lifted to meet hers, devoid of the good spirits he’d shown at their meal, and Sybil couldn’t help but feel a measure of sorrow for him. Imagining the horrors and pain he’d suffered during his forced years at sea was something Sybil simply wasn’t prepared for. That did not mean she could not offer him comfort and a kind ear if needed, however.

  “Lady Sybil, you—as well as Lord Lichfield—have been gracious enough this night.” Charles shook his head, the action sending several droplets of tea over the rim of the cup and onto his bare hands. However, he did not seem to notice the hot liquid as he next spoke. “I had no intention of bringing any danger to you, my lady, and I pray that you and your family can forgive me.”

  It startled Sybil to realize the depth of Charles’ guilt. “No harm came to me, and even if it had, I would still have been there to stand up for you.”

  “Gideon and I waited many months to return to London”—Charles paused, grinning over at Sybil—“and my dear friend droned on and on about you every day. I nearly fled in the middle of the night to be away from his tales of love, and the fables of your beauty.”

  Sybil laughed along with Charles, content to know that, once again, Gideon had been nothing but truthful with her.

  “However, your beauty and steadfast, loyal nature are far beyond anything he shared.” Charles brought his cup to his lips and took a long, slow sip, his eyes drifting closed as he drank. “I am so happy that my dearest friend has found you. He deserves to be loved and cared for, especially after so many years carrying the burden of my abduction on his shoulders.”

  “He never spoke of you to me before today. Not even the day he fled London,” Sybil confessed. It was her turn to look away, not having the strength to meet Charles’ stare. “Why do you think that is?”

  She needed to know—did Gideon not trust her?

  When Charles sighed, Sybil feared the worst. Gideon may love her, but he might never share with her his deepest moments, thoughts, and concerns.

  “Over the years, Gideon scoured both England and Scotland in search of me. He had men stationed at every port, watching and waiting for any sighting of me. He’d had so many false reports over the years…so many times he’d hurry to Dover or up toward Edinburgh only to have his hopes dashed.” With his free hand, Charles rubbed at his leg, likely to soothe the chronic pain from his injury. “Disappointment, guilt, and shame are powerful, all-consuming emotions. To be honest, I don’t think Gideon ever thought to see me again. Not truly. Why would he mention his greatest failure—his words, not mine—to the woman he adores?”

  “If a person loves another, they do not cast blame so out of hand.”

  Charles chuckled, a bitter, heavy sound that attracted the notice of the magistrate where he sat on the opposite side of the room. “The blame had already been cast, so in a way, he was keeping from you anything that could tarnish your love for him.”

  Sybil lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you blame him for your capture?”

  “Heavens no, my lady.” Charles set his cup on the table beside the lounge and stared into the crackling hearth. “Even the day after I was taken, when I awoke at sea with England long out of sight, I did not lay the burden on Gideon. We were men, young as we were at the time, and the gang could’ve taken either of us or both of us. I was the unlucky one; yet, I was the mere son of a commoner with no future except what Gideon’s father had promised me. Gideon and his family could afford to lose me, but Gideon…Gideon was, is destined for greater things.”

  “Because he is titled?” Sybil squeaked, the implication angering her. To think that one man’s life was any more important than another’s solely because of their status at birth…it was inconceivable. Yet, it was everything England was built upon.

  “Partly.” Charles’ candid confession brought a new anguish to her. “However, that is not the only reason. Gideon is a good, honorable, kind, and compassionate man. He will take his place among the men shaping this country for generations to come. He will do good, far more than a man such as I could ever hope to achieve.”

  “I cannot believe that, Mr. Smythe,” Sybil refuted.

  “That Gideon is honorable and kind?”

  “No, that your life is less meaningful than Gideon’s.” Why did saying the words cause her heart to hammer in her chest? Could it be because she’d been raised to believe that the life of a nobleman was worth more than that of a commoner?

  “I am not saying that either,” Charles said, patting her hand.

  Two sets of footfalls sounded in the hall.

  “Please, Lady Sybil, do not punish Gideon for keeping my existence from you.” Charles pushed to his feet and collected his cane. “He never meant to hurt you. I will bid you good night. I believe the matter to be discussed is a family issue.”

  “You are Gideon’s family,” Sybil said with a shrug. “I maintain that you have as much right to be here as I…and I can state, with certainty, that Gideon and I will be lucky to have you in our corner.”

  Both Gideon and Silas strolled into the room. Gideon’s eyes surveyed the space until they landed on her, and he visibly sighed with relief. Her brother went directly to the magistrate.

  “Mr. St. Paulson,” Silas called, waving the man from his seat. “What is Mr. Smythe’s recourse at this juncture if the men return?”

  Gideon reached into his jacket pocket. He retrieved a sealed note and held it out for Silas and the magistrate to see. “This will resolve all the confusion.”
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br />   “The letter from the Admiralty Courts.” Charles shuffled over, taking the missive from Gideon and turning it over in his hands as his forgotten cane fell to the floor.

  “You had this all along?” The magistrate’s brow rose high in question. “Why did you not speak of it sooner?”

  “We haven’t opened it yet,” Charles confessed.

  “It arrived only moments before Lady Sybil. If we had opened it before the men, and the courts demanded Charles be returned to his ship, they would have taken him straight away, and any hope of petitioning the courts in appeal would have been difficult.” Gideon nodded to the missive. “Open it, Charles.”

  “I think it best that I depart. As a member of the courts, I will be honor-bound to adhere to the Admiralty’s directives.” Mr. St. Paulson gave a curt bow to Sybil and nodded to the occupants at large before hurrying from the room as if the fires of Hell were chasing him.

  Gideon and Charles remained focused on the official seal of the maritime courts.

  “Open it,” Sybil prodded. “Even if the news is disparaging, there is still time to appeal the decision.”

  Gideon stepped to Sybil’s side and placed his hand on her waist, waiting for his friend to break the seal and read the notice. Even Silas waited in silence, a nervous air about him, though the outcome did not affect him as it did the others.

  Charles slipped his finger under the flap, and the wax seal cracked, pieces falling to the floor at his feet. Unfolding the paper, he scanned it, his expression in no way betraying what news the letter held.

  Finally, he held the paper out to Gideon, his hand shaking slightly.

  Sybil held her breath as she read the words that drifted across the page with perfect penmanship.

  Tears clouded her vision, and it was difficult to make out the words, but a few phrases became seared into her mind, relieved of duty and free from impressment. Sybil’s thoughts swirled as she tried to make sense of everything.

  “I’m not to be returned,” Charles announced, whether for Silas’s benefit or Sybil’s, she was uncertain. “I am officially free and need not fear anything further.”

  Gideon embraced his friend, each clapping the other’s back before stepping apart once more. The relief was written clearly across Gideon’s face when he returned to her side, pulling her close.

  “Lord Lichfield.” Gideon turned to address her brother. “Charles’ freedom means mine, as well. I can pledge that nothing will come before Sybil. My time and focus will no longer be torn between the two people who mean the most to me. My love for Sybil has been in the forefront since the day we met; however, that did not stop my other responsibilities from taking me away from her and London.”

  Sybil silently pled with Silas to hear Gideon out—his intentions, his commitment, and his heart.

  “Silas, I love him,” Sybil said on a cry.

  Her brother scrutinized Gideon from head to toe before returning his gaze to her. “Love—his or yours—is not what is in dispute here.”

  “Then, what?” Sybil’s heart splintered at the thought of being separated from Gideon once more.

  “It was I who had to comfort you when Lord Galway cried off and disappeared—“

  “He did not cry off,” Charles scoffed.

  Silas turned his narrowed stare to Charles, his severe look quieting the man. “It was Mallory, my wife, who stood outside Sybil’s door every night and listened to her cry herself to sleep.” He turned to Sybil. “As your brother, your protector, I never want another to harm you. I will not stand silently aside again and allow any man—or woman—to speak ill of you, to fail you, to…abandon you!

  “I am your brother, damn it. It is my duty to protect you from injury.”

  Sybil’s hopes crashed as Gideon stepped from her side. Was he accepting defeat? Was he resigned to allow Silas to dictate their future? No matter how misguided his intentions were…

  “Silas, please…”

  “Let him speak,” Gideon whispered close to her ear.

  Gideon hadn’t abandoned her, only moved to stand behind her as his hands now rested on her shoulders.

  She didn’t want to listen to Silas list all the reasons Sybil shouldn’t love and wed Gideon. Her brother’s reasoning mattered not a whit to Sybil. She knew her heart. She had witnessed Gideon’s pure love.

  And that was enough for her.

  “Before tonight, I was against you wedding Lord Galway. Not because I feared the sincerity of his love, but because I could not trust him to be there when you needed him most,” Silas sighed. “I will not always be close at hand to make certain you are well, that your children are cared for by a loving father. And that, rightfully, concerned me. As your brother and guardian, it is my responsibility to make certain you are wedded to a fine man, an honorable male, someone who will put you first forevermore.”

  “I am past the age of needing—“

  Silas held up his hand to halt her words. “Until this night, only a short time ago, I truly believed that man was not Lord Galway; however, after witnessing the lengths the viscount was willing to go to in order to protect a friend, I believe he would do the same for you—perhaps better than I.”

  Sybil’s shoulders trembled, her hands rising to rest on Gideon’s at her shoulders. “Are you saying…?”

  “He has agreed to our marriage, Sybil,” Gideon murmured in her ear.

  She turned to face Gideon, her hands landing on her hips as she stared up at him. “How long have you known?”

  “We discussed it outside as we made certain the men departed.” Gideon smiled, and her irritation fled as warmth filled her. “The contracts will be drawn up in the morning, and we are to sign them by midday.”

  Sybil could barely believe what she was hearing. She and Gideon were to wed—with her brother’s blessing.

  “Good thing you’ve seen reason, Lichfield,” Charles grumbled. “If I know anything about Gideon, it is that he will go to the ends of the Earth for those he loves.”

  “And I do love you, Sybil.” Gideon’s stare held hers, and he leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to her lips. “I am, here and now, making it my life’s mission to prove to you, each and every day, that I love you.”

  “I never doubted your love,” she confessed.

  Sybil could not look away from Gideon. Every secret, every concern, every doubt had been exposed. There was nothing and no one who could stand in the way of their happiness.

  “I think it best we depart,” Charles’ voice sank through Sybil’s supremely happy musings.

  “Not quite yet,” Silas answered. “Galway, I trust I can expect you to arrive at the appointed time tomorrow?”

  “Nothing will keep me from finishing what I started,” Gideon said, his stare never leaving hers. “Above my honor and my duty, it is my heart that is forever pledged to you, Lady Sybil.”

  “I love you, Gideon.”

  Sybil vaguely heard a door closing behind them as her brother and Charles left; however, when Gideon’s lips pressed to hers once more, she was helpless to think of anything but the man she loved.

  Sybil could admit that she loved a scandal, and no scandal would capture society’s attention more than the betrothal of Lady Sybil Anson to Viscount Galway.

  Epilogue

  28 October 1816

  It was a romantic, magical, and dreamlike soiree. All that was missing was cherubs or, mayhap, winged fairy creatures. I am certain even I would have fallen in love with the gallant Lord Galway had I seen him dressed in his wedding finery before his heart was given to Lady Sybil—now, Viscountess Galway. I can confirm that the only scandalous occurrence was Mr. Sladeton Anson leaping from the second-story window in nothing but his undone trousers. But that, my kind readers, is a story for another day…

  ~ Lady X

  Sybil took a deep breath and smoothed her hands down the front of her freshly pressed white muslin nightshift as she stared at the closed bedchamber door.

  Her new bedchamber door.

&n
bsp; The room she and Gideon would share as a newly wedded couple.

  In this space, adorned in deep, midnight blues and soft, creamy whites, they would make love for the first time. They would laugh with unfettered abandon, and discuss current events from politics to fashion and war. They would argue over topics as mundane as what to eat for their evening meal and debate important subjects such as what they would name their future children. Rupert, Melvin, and Gertrude were not names she was willing to entertain for their forthcoming offspring, no matter that they were established names in the Galway viscountcy.

  All of those matters dealing with her new marital status were things that Sybil looked forward to experiencing—with Gideon by her side.

  There was no doubt in her mind that, if they remained steadfast in their love and stayed committed to one another, they would see each other through both the good times and the bad.

  And, at that precise moment, Sybil was preparing for one such good time.

  She and Gideon had been wed that morning, followed by a feast with a surplus of food and drink, and a ball held in their honor. There was dancing, more refreshments, merriment, and good cheer all around.

  A shiver coursed through her when footfalls sounded in the hall outside her—their—bedchamber door.

  Gideon had arrived.

  Her husband was directly outside the room.

  Sybil smiled, pushing the last remnants of apprehension away as the latch sprang and the door slowly opened without a sound.

  “Viscountess Galway.” His voice was a heady whisper that sent tendrils of need coiling in her stomach. He was still outfitted in his wedding day finery, complete with polished boots and precisely combed hair. His gray eyes sparkled in the dim lighting from the dozen candles positioned about the room. “I have waited long to address you as such.”

  “Viscountess Galway.” Sybil allowed her formal title to roll off her tongue and hang in the air separating them. “And you, Gideon, are my husband.”