Far Beyond Scandalous (10 page)

Amy
was momentarily at a loss, and above all, confused.
 
There was something not right, a piece of the puzzle she was
still missing.
 
Gibson was distant now,
and still standing apart from her, the teasing side of him vanishing the moment
she mentioned the estate and its operation.
 
Did he require something of her that she did not know to offer?

"What
do you need from me?"
 
She paused
and waited for him to reply, but when he did not, she continued on.
 
"Obviously, the estate is in capable
hands and shall remain thus.
 
But there
is something you are not telling me, Gibbs, and I need to know what it is.
 
Or, if it is not the estate, then what?
 
Are you worried about how I shall survive
for a time without my mother?"
 

Amy
did feel herself at something of a loss.
 
If she did not have to run Cheltenham, something she had been preparing
herself for all night, then what did she do with her time?
 
There was only so much needlework a lady could
do, and it would be unseemly to keep up the schedule that she had been in the
weeks prior to her mother's illness.
 
Was he worried about how she would entertain herself?
 
Well, she was a grown woman, not a
child.
 
She would survive quite nicely,
thank you very much.

Moving
back to her father's desk with a sigh, Gibson shuffled through the papers
Michaels had given him before pulling one from the stack.
 
It was older than the rest, yellowed at the
corners and starting to curl.
 
"For
a start, perhaps you can give me some insight into this particular
document.
 
That is the only thing I do
not understand about the estate papers and it troubles me.
 
Greatly."

He
held out the paper, and Amy rose to take it from him, immediately recognizing
her father's handwriting.
 
It was far
straighter and bolder than his current hand, indicating that it had been
written many years ago, before a fall from a horse had shifted the bones in his
right hand.
 
"According to this
directive, you are to remain out in society at all times, living the life of a
debutante until you marry.
 
If no one
else, including your mother, can see to your societal needs, then it falls
under Michaels' direction unless there is another suitable male escort
available."
 
He raised that
singular eyebrow again.
 
"Is there
something I do not know, my lady?"

Frowning,
Amy studied the paper, trying to repress the bit of anger that flared in her
when he called her "my lady," at least when they were in
private.
 
He knew it irked her, and,
given their passionate kiss the previous night, she found it all a bit
odd.
 
In one moment they were locked in
a passionate embrace, and in another, they were so stiff and formal, it was as
if they had never met, let alone seen each other naked.
 
At the moment, however, there were more
important things to worry about than confused hearts, it seemed.

The
missive, penned and signed by her father, was short and to the point.
 
At no time was Lady Amy Cheltenham to be out
of society for more than a day or two unless she was ill.
 
It was so imperative that funds had been
specifically set aside in the event of an emergency that would support her and
her entertainments until she wed.
 
Those
funds, it was noted, were separate from her dowry.
 
It was also rather clear that whoever was in charge of the
earldom, and in this case Michaels believed it was Marcus, was to see to it
that the directive was carried out.
 
Even if it meant employing one of Lady Berkshire's infamous gray-gowned
chaperones and badgering some poor, hapless male to accomplish the task.

"I
do not understand," Amy said finally, handing the paper back to Gibson
with a shake of her head.
 
"That
makes no sense.
 
Why would such a
directive be necessary?"
 
It could,
she supposed, be related to her past, but it was unlikely.
 
There was no logical connection, and anyway,
the entire event was irrelevant to this directive.
 
Besides, as far as she knew, that situation had been resolved
years ago, shortly after it had initially occurred.
 
"Isn't that what young, unmarried ladies do?
 
Go out in society?
 
Attend balls and musicales and other events?"

"That
was my understanding, yes."
 
He
tucked the paper back in with the others and tied them back up in a neat bundle
before moving them to a desk drawer.
 
She was not surprised when he locked the drawer and then pocketed the
key.
 
That was Gibson.
 
Ever careful and ever vigilant.

"Still,
it is abundantly clear that your father wanted you to be seen out and about,
not tucked way at home, even if it is to nurse your mother back to health.
 
Which, might I add, is a very noble
thing."
 
Gibson looked directly at
Amy, making it clear that he had already guessed that was precisely what she
had been intending to do with her time now that it was not to be tied up in
running the estate.
 
"Therefore, we
must make appropriate arrangements for you to do just that.
 
You need to attend the balls, musicales and
other amusements you have already accepted invitations to, as well as agree to
new entertainments."

Amy
raised her chin a fraction of an inch, hoping she achieved the right look of
defiance on her face.
 
Gibson wasn't the
only aristocrat in the room, though he was certainly acting like it, much to
her dismay.
 
Gone was the tender lover
from the night before who had kissed her so passionately, and in his place was
the panther-like viscount, cool, calculating, and always in control.
 
How he could switch from one mask to another
so easily she did not know, but neither did it matter.
 
She could play this game just as well as he.

She
would not be told what to do, not even by Gibson.
 
She might have put her dreams for the future on hold, but that
did not mean she would surrender her dream of freedom completely.
 
He would not order her about.
 
She would not tolerate it.
 
"And if I refuse?
 
If I wish to remain here?"

"I
do not know," Gibson admitted truthfully, some of his hauteur falling away
to reveal the man she remembered, "but if you do not abide by that
directive, someone, probably Michaels, will know that Marcus is not in charge
of the earldom.
 
For if your brother
was, there would be no question that you would follow this directive, no matter
how obstinate you like to be on occasion."
 
Her strong-mindedness was one of the things that Gibson adored
about her, though he suspected that now was not the best time to mention that,
especially since he needed her to be rather biddable at the moment.

Amy
winced a bit at his words.
 
She had
rather hoped that he didn't know about her tendency to flout convention.
 
However, she suspected he probably already
had a pretty good idea about her behavior.
 
He also had a very valid point, much as she hated to admit it.
 
"And if it is discovered that Marcus
isn't in charge..."

"People
will find out how serious his illness is, and how close to death he was when he
departed for Bath.
 
They might possibly
even discover that his condition has not improved as much as we had hoped it
would," Gibson finished for her.
 
He did not need to lecture her.
 
She knew the dangers of exposing Marcus' true condition to society.
 
"I know you do not want that."

No,
that was the last thing Amy wanted.
 
If
society knew how dire her brother's situation was, there would be immense
pressure to send him to Bedlam.
 
He did
not need that.
 
He would recover his
wits and his health.
 
She was certain of
it.
 
He only needed time, which was
precisely what the extended trip to Bath was intended to provide.
 
She did not need Michaels, or others for
that matter, poking into the Cheltenham family business just because she was
not fulfilling her father's explicit wishes.
 
She might be headstrong, but she was not stupid, nor did she wish her
family harm.

"Very
well."
 
She intended to be
practical and adult about this.
 
That
was the vow she had made to herself and her mother in the wee hours of the
morning, after all.
 
"How shall we
go about it?
 
I assume you have a
plan.
 
You usually do."

From
the moment Gibson had read the missive and learned from Michaels how important
it was to the earl that this order in particular be carried out, he
had
begun to formulate a plan.
 
Though he would not say so to Amy, there was obviously something
more to the directive than a father's wish that his daughter have a good time
and marry well.
 
One did not set aside
that amount of funds on a whim or because his daughter was spoiled.
 
Not even simply because he thought it might
be a good idea.
 
There had to be more to
that seemingly innocent scrap of paper than any of them realized.

There
was a threat of some kind, probably lurking in the shadows of the family's
life, that had worried the earl enough to pen the directive.
 
Most likely, it was a threat against Amy
herself, one that she knew nothing about.
 
After all, one did not reach William Cheltenham's position in life
without angering a few people, and those types of people would not care that
they hurt a woman.
 
All they would see
was a way to hit at the very heart of a man they despised.

Was
that the reason for the duchess' endless worry?
 
Was that directive what had brought about her apoplexy?
 

Without
more information, Gibson could not be certain.
 
He also did not know who or what the threat was, or where it would be coming
from.
 
He also had no idea who he could
trust, especially since Amy had no proper suitors.
 
In his eyes, everyone was suspect.

That
left him with only one course of action, one he had relied on long ago when he
had been trying to dig himself out of the figurative hole his father had left
him in - trust no one but yourself.

"I
do have a plan," Gibson admitted finally, knowing full well that even if
Amy agreed to it, he would be damning himself to weeks of torment and a
lifetime of regret.
 
Yet his heart would
not allow him to make another choice.

The
previous night, he had vowed to himself that he would stay away from Amy and
not be tempted by her sweetness or the passions she stirred in his heart.
 
He would be her friend and her advisor, but
nothing more.
 
He certainly would not
kiss her again.
 
Now, he was about to go
back on that vow.
 
Gibson would be her
escort about town, partly because he refused to leave her to Michaels'
less-than-tender mercies, especially given how much the other man distained the
aristocracy.
 
However, he was also doing
it for himself, to allow himself one last glimpse of paradise before he shut
the door and locked it forever.

Escorting
Amy would not be easy.
 
In many ways, it
would be pure torture.
 
Gibson prayed
that he was strong enough to endure.
 
Then again, he had endured his father's betrayal.
 
Surely this could be no worse.

Society
Tales

Town is still all abuzz
regarding the events that took place at the supposed "benefit" ball
hosed by Lady F. several nights previous, mostly concerning the health of
society matron Lady E.
 
However,
speculation is now rampant that the same affliction may yet affect her
daughter, Lady A.
 
Is it possible that
two of the most respected women in society are falling ill to the same sort of
affliction that felled another in their family, Lord M., the current Viscount
of B. and heir to the family's fortunes?

Let us hope not!
 
For that would be a tragic loss indeed.
 
This author has it on excellent authority
that preventative steps are already being taken to assure that at least one
member of this esteemed family does not fall prey to the evil clutches of
disease.
 
At last report, it was rumored
that the Prince Regent himself might even be involved in directing her care!

- Lady X

"The theater, my dear
doctor?
 
How can you afford
this?"
 
Amy still could not believe
Gibson was leading her up the steps of one of Drury Lane's most respected
theaters to a private box.
 
It was like
something out of one her most secret fantasies, and she was terrified that if
she breathed in too deeply, like a soap bubble, it would burst.

"I have my ways, my lady.
 
Trust in that, if nothing else."
 
Gibson patted Amy's hand as he navigated
them through the crush of people with ease, almost as if he had been to that
particular theater before.
 
At this
point, she no longer questioned him.
 
She had learned rather quickly that it was pointless.

Amy had also quickly come to accept
that, as a lone, unmarried female in a man's world, she was exceedingly
vulnerable to the whims of others.
 
Including Michaels and Lord Drake, among others.
 
If she had to rely on a man for help and
protection, then Gibson was truly the only man she could trust.

It had only been two days since the
fateful morning in her father's study, but somehow Gibson had managed to
surprise Amy yet again.
 
The first time
he had done so was shortly after their initial meeting with Michaels.
 
Gibson had departed for a brief time before
returning to Cheltenham House with news that Prinny was giving him leave to
attend to Amy and her family - with his blessing.
 
Amy was not certain how Gibson had managed that feat, but she was
grateful for whatever promises the doctor had to make to ensure that her mother
received the best care possible.

Gibson had also informed her that,
at Carlton House's suggestion, he would use the gossip sheets to further their
goal of paving the way for his escort of her without too much scandal.
 
Amy had no idea how he had managed that,
either, but then, the prince was powerful, and did exercise some degree of
authority over even the most independent of gossip sheets.
 
Somehow, someone had convinced the powerful
Lady X to champion their cause.
 
She had
no idea how it had come about, but Amy was grateful for the assistance, not to
mention the end result.

If Gibson had not been her escort,
the duties would have fallen to Michaels, and Amy would not have tolerated such
a thing.
 
She hated the very fact that
she had to deal with the man for brief periods in each morning as it was.
 
An entire string of evenings in his company
would be nothing short of sheer torture.

Rather unexpectedly, Michaels had
kicked up something of a fuss at not being the one named to escort Amy about
town, which was odd, given his clear distain for highborn females.
 
She had been afraid that somehow, Michaels
would find a way to force Gibson out of his new role in the Cheltenham
household.
 
However, a document from
Carlton House authorizing Gibson's escort of Amy had been enough to silence the
other man's protests.
  
Even the surly
steward was not foolish enough to challenge a directive from Prinny himself.

That first afternoon when Gibson
had come bearing the documents that allowed him to accompany her, he had also
suggested that they embark on a short stroll in the park under the guise of
assessing her health, something that had been hinted at already in that
morning's
Society Tales
column.
 
The matrons of the
ton
that they had passed while on their stroll
declared Gibson nothing short of marvelous that he would be so concerned for
Lady Amy's health, further lending credence to their story.
 
The woman had also heaped praise on the
prince for his direct involvement in the care of one of his distant relatives.

In the space of only a few hours,
Gibson's new position in society had been cemented and approved, making both of
them, especially Amy, rest easier.
 
Not
to mention that she was secretly thrilled to be seen out with him by her side.

That her mother's health was, in
fact, improving also lightened Amy's heart quite a bit.
 
It made the short stroll, accompanied as
always by her maid Grace, much more relaxing, and allowed her to truly enjoy
Gibson's company.
 
Had Thea still been
as incoherent as she had been the night of the attack, Amy would have felt
guilty for leaving the house even for a few moments.
 
However, with proper rest, the human body was an amazing
creation, and, while Thea was kept sedated most of the day so she wouldn't
over-tax herself, when she was awake, she was quite lucid.
 
More so than even Gibson had dared to hope.

In Amy's mind, that was marvelous
news, and, of course, that made the time spent with Gibson that much more
delightful.
 
And precious

The day after the stroll in the
park, Gibson had appeared again, this time to escort Amy on a short trip to
Gunter's for ices, with him dryly informing anyone who inquired that it was
necessary for him to continue to assess Amy's health after what had befallen
her mother.
 
He insisted to all who
asked that Amy herself was now in the most dangerous time to fall victim to an
apoplexy herself, and that she was at great risk of succumbing to what ailed
Lady Thea, who, he was also quick to assure all was at home recovering
nicely.
 
Another ridiculous tale, but
one that every single woman they spoke with believed, particularly when Gibson
gifted them with one of his dazzling smiles and a bit of flirting.

Amy should be jealous.
 
Or she would have been, had a relationship
between her and Gibson been possible.
 
As it was, she was decidedly
not
jealous because she could not
have Gibson.
 
Not to mention that after
that first night when her mother had fallen ill, they had never again spoken of
that long ago August day.
 
In Amy's
mind, she often wondered if she had imagined that closeness, if it had been
real at all.
 
Perhaps it had only been a
fantasy, or Gibson offering comfort as best he knew how.
 
Therefore, there was nothing to be jealous
about.
 
Well, she reasoned as they
continued on to their box, that whole line of thinking had made more sense in
her mind when she had first thought of it.

However she was decidedly not
jealous when the doctor had appeared early that very morning, forged note in
hand, declaring that Marcus, agreeing with Prinny completely, had officially
entrusted his sister into Gibson's more than capable care while Lady Evanston,
who was, the note reminded everyone, making a remarkable recovery, regained her
health.
 
Amy did not know where Gibson
had procured the note, nor did she care, particularly.

The scrap of paper did not come
from Marcus, that much was clear, at least to her well-trained eye, but the
forgery, for she had no doubt that it was one, was good enough to fool
Michaels.
 
The steward was still
grumbling about not being allowed to escort Amy around town and in a foul mood
anyway.
 
It was no secret that Michaels
firmly believed that young ladies should be seen, not heard, and kept confined
to the home whenever possible, so his irritation was peculiar.
 
However Amy dismissed it as a man who
aspired to a higher station in life, and saw her as a means to obtain the
favors of a wealthy widow in exchange for some bed sport.
 
Not that a lady like her should know about
such things, of course.
 
Though at Amy's
age, the women in the ladies' retiring rooms at balls
did
talk.
 
Rather a lot.

Gibson thought Michaels was a twit,
though he would not say so aloud, instead determined to keep the steward on his
side for as long as possible.
 
The
doctor had even gone so far as to hint that he shared Michaels ideas on women,
in particular Lady Amy, but was forced to do what he must to keep the upper
echelons of society, not to mention the prince, happy, and, therefore, his
pockets lined with coins.
 
Thus far, it
was working.
 
However, that didn't mean
that Gibson thought the man in question was anything other than the worst kind
of fool imaginable.
 
And, quite
possibly, up to something nefarious.

He had yet to decide on that
matter.

Even now, Gibson could recall
almost every moment of his last conversation with Michaels quite clearly.
 
He, of course, had assured the steward that
he did not mind escorting Lady Amy about, as he was used to society after
serving the prince regent for so long, and that really, given that apoplexy
could strike at any time, even in one so young as Amy, it was necessary.
 
It might be a good idea to watch her for
some time, more than a few days, Gibson had informed the other man, just to
make certain that she was in no danger.

Michaels had grudgingly concurred
with that assessment, but had also immediately begun to make all of the
necessary arrangements to ensure that the "esteemed Dr. Blackwell"
could take over as Lady Amy's approved escort.
 
Then, much to Gibson's mistrust, the man completely changed his attitude
over the entire situation.
 
It was as if
he had never vied hard for the position of escort himself.
 
In fact, the man was downright cheerful as
he made plans, much to Gibson's distrust.
 
That in particular made Gibson extremely suspicious.
 
He had learned the hard way that appearances
were often deceiving.

However, within the day, one of
Lady Berkshire's infamous Gray Gowns had been hired to accompany Amy and Gibson
while out at evening events, as was proper, of course.
 
Otherwise, Dr. Blackwell, with proper
daytime chaperonage in the form of a maid, was to act on Marcus Cheltenham's behalf,
at least where Lady Amy was concerned.
 
Not to mention that the letter had been very explicit that Amy was not
to sit at home while her mother convalesced.
 
She was to maintain her regular schedule in an effort to find a
potential husband.

For whatever reason, according to
Michaels anyway, that last part had been extremely important to both Lord and
Lady Evanston.
 
Therefore, it became
important to Gibson as well, even though the idea of Amy marrying another man
left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
 
Sill, he had made certain that the phrase was included in the note when
he had paid a visit to his old friend, Lady Caroline Turner, under the guise of
checking on her well-being after she had suffered a nasty break in her ankle
only a few months prior.

It was known only to a select few
that Lady Caroline was not merely the only child of the powerful and esteemed
Viscount of Redwing, but that she was also the infamous Lady X, author of the
notorious, but almost always accurate gossip column,
Society Tales
, that
was among the most popular in London.
 
That she was also an accomplished forger was known by even fewer people,
though Gibson counted himself lucky to be among them.

Gibson rarely asked Lady Caroline
for favors, not wanting to trade on their old friendship, but in this case, it
was necessary.
 
Caroline had, of course,
understood the seriousness of the situation once she saw the original directive
from Lord Evanston.
 
She was also a long
time friend of the Cheltenham family, particularly Marcus who had been her
childhood best friend, and Gibson knew she would do anything to prevent his
secret from getting out.

Caroline had promised to both
increase the mentions of Amy and Gibson in her daily columns, as well as make
it crystal clear that she was decidedly in favor of the plan - not that she
hadn't been already.
 
For if there was
one thing that Caroline possessed, it was a romantic heart, and she longed to
see Gibson paired with a lady of society who was worthy of him.
 
Caroline firmly believed that Amy was that
woman and had told Gibson as much.

Caroline had also warned Gibson
that there had been rumors in the past about a potential scandal involving Lady
Amy, though she wasn't certain of the details.
 
Since Amy had earned the label of "The Paragon," it was likely
nothing, but sometimes, even nothing had a way of becoming something.
 
Caroline had advised Gibson to be on guard,
both for his safety as well as Lady Amy's.