Gideon frowned. He perched on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. “What are you doing here?”
Lewis took his time, not answering until he had a glass of brandy securely in his hands. “I never feel welcome here anymore, you know,” he lamented with his usual theatrics. “Have I wronged you in some way, old friend?”
“Not at all,old friend. Unless you count keeping secrets,” Gideon retorted sharply, causing Lewis to chuckle in response.
“Come now, any secret I have kept from you has been for your own good.”
“Wrong answer,” Gideon replied and Lewis chuckled again. “Ah, now that I’ve got you,” Gideon pushed himself off his desk and moved over to the sideboard to pour himself some brandy too, “did you manage to uncover which gaming hells the Earl of Appleby has been frequenting lately?”
The amusement faded from Lewis’ face. “I’m still in the process of gathering that information.”
“Still? You have never taken this long to learn such things in the past.”
“Well, Lord Appleby is a little different from the others. And I have been busy.”
“With what?” Gideon raised a brow. “With courting Lady Harriet?”
Lewis choked on his drink and began to cough profusely. When he’d gathered himself, he lifted teary eyes to Gideon. “What are you talking about?”
“Am I wrong? Are you not courting Lady Harriet?”
“Of course not!” Lewis exclaimed defensively.
“Really? But she’s quite a catch, isn’t she?” Gideon teased.
“She is but— no, I’m not going to fall into your trap. I am not courting Lady Harriet and that is the end of it. Now, can we move on? I came here to enjoy your company, maybe play a few rounds of billiards,” Lewis shrugged, eager to change the subject.
Gideon scrutinized his friend for a moment, debating whether to press further or let it go. Finally, he relented. “Alright, billiards it is,” he agreed, concluding that Lewis would open up in his own time.
“Marvelous.” Lewis stalked up to him, handing him his unfinished glass. “I know you’re far better at the game when you are inebriated and I am itching for a challenge.”
A smirk played on Gideon’s lips. He accepted the glass. “Challenge accepted,” he declared before downing the rest of the drink in one swift gulp.
Amelia cautiously poked her head out from the doorway of the quaint library tucked away in the east wing, looking left and right. The hallway was dim, bathed mostly in the soft glow of sconces, their light casting long, dancing shadows on the lush carpet below. Quietly, she crept out of the room, closing the door behind her with the softest click, as if the slightest noise would alert Gideon of her presence. She tucked the letter she’d just finished reading from Dorothy close to her side, planning to pen one back and send it off at the break of dawn.
She didn’t want to risk bumping into her husband, but she also felt as if she was going insane locked up all day. She was itching to go out into the garden and get some fresh air, to stretch her legs and forget about her situation, even for a little while. Perhaps on her way back, she could beeline for the main library first to borrow some new books too.
Wrapping her arms about herself, she started down the corridor, hoping she was going in the right direction. While Jenny had given her a tour of the east wing, navigating the expansive corridors alone was still daunting. She came to a stop at the end of a crossway, forgetting for a moment whether she should turn left or right, before ultimately choosing the path to her left.
She walked for a while, relaxing as the minutes went by. The corridors were tranquil. Because of the late hour, she was yet to pass any of the maids or footmen, but she remained vigilant. If she ran into Gideon, there was no telling whether she would be able to escape with her pride still intact.
“Have it delivered in the morning.” As if her thoughts had summoned him, Amelia heard Gideon’s low voice coming from around the corner. In a panic, she flattened herself against the wall, her heartbeat steadily speeding up.
“Of course, Your Grace.” She recognized the butler—Thomas’—voice. “And what of Her Grace?”
“Amelia?” Amelia held her breath, pressing her hand against her thundering heart. He didn’t seem to be coming closer, thankfully. “I shall handle her myself.”
Oh, dear God. Amelia backed away, needing to escape. Her limbs momentarily froze when she realized she could no longer discern Gideon's whereabouts. But the thought of retreating back to her own chambers was equally nauseating.
Deciding impulsively, Amelia slipped into the closest room to her. She could just wait until he passed, she thought to herself. She pressed her back against the cold door, closing her eyes in relief.
However, her respite was short-lived.
“I have been wondering when I would get to meet you.”
Amelia gasped at the male voice, eyes flying open. An average-height gentleman stood on the other side of the room—which she just now recognized as a billiards room—with a glass of what she assumed was either whisky or brandy in his hand. He swirled the glass idly, looking intrigued as he regarded her.
Panicking, she spun and attempted to exit but the man’s smooth voice halted her. “There’s no need to run,” he assured her. “I won’t hurt you. I’m sure Gideon will have my hide if I do.”
