Far Beyond Scandalous (25 page)

Society
Tales

Dancing.
 
Revelry.
 
A carriage ride along Rotten Row.
 
Strolls in the park.
 
This author
believes that the status of Lady A.'s health is quite fine indeed, even though
she continues to be seen in the company of a certain Dr. G.B.
 
And, also in this author's opinion, that is
not a bad thing.
 
It is, in fact, a
testament to a power greater than all of us, and I am certain that my readers
know of what I speak.

Perhaps it is time to revisit
why we, as a society, punish the child for the sins of the parent.
 
It is not right, nor is it fair.
 
I am not advocating for change.
 
No, certainly not, for I am merely a humble
observer reporting the news.
 
However, I
do often wonder, what would be different if only we could learn to forgive and
let go.

It is that thought that I leave
you all with today and not another tidbit of juicy gossip.

- Lady X

Four days after that magical
afternoon, Amy was certain that anyone who looked at her would be able to tell
that she had indulged in pleasures of the flesh that should have been
forbidden.
 
Yet, so far, no one had said
a word, even if they did suspect.
 
Not
even the maids had said anything, accepting her story without question that the
stains on her gown had occurred when she had slipped on the muddy ground at the
park.
 
She was scarcely able to believe
it, but then, she was The Paragon, and thus, she did not indulge in scandalous
behavior.
 
She was not a common trollop
or whore.

If only they knew.

At first, it had been awkward
between her and Gibson.
 
After all, she
had granted him liberties that no one else had ever been given, but soon, her
heart reminded her that this was the man she had fallen in love with so
easily.
 
If she could not grant those
liberties to him, then she would grant them to no one.
 
When she finally allowed herself to relax a
bit, she found that their easy camaraderie returned, yet now, she was even more
aware of his body and just how much she longed to see all of him.

They had also agreed to forget
their past arrangements regarding their relationship and simply go forward as
best they could, even though neither was certain what, precisely that
entailed.
 
They could not go back.
 
That much was certain.
 
They had shared far too much.
 
And neither was certain what the future
held, though they both agreed that it was time to be realistic.
 
There was no true future for them, not
together anyway.
 
Yet until either the
earl or Marcus returned, they would simply forge a new path and see where it
led.
 
After that?
 
They would part.
 
It could be no other way.

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 time 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."