Page 14 of The Lady Loves A Scandal

There was not a spider inching across her collarbone and slipping down the bodice of her gown.

Sybil pushed through the web blocking her path, a nearly invisible, dense strand of intricately woven webs, and hurried down the trail. She kept her parasol at the ready—just in case something larger than an eight-legged critter stepped in her way.

It only took a few moments—less than twenty paces—and she entered the small clearing, shielded by large bushes on all sides. The crunch of carriage wheels and light conversation floated on the spring breeze, but she could decipher none of the words. Just as if someone heard her speak, they would not be able to identify her voice or intuit what she said.

Anticipation coursed through her as she spun in every direction. The area was not large, there was no place to hide. Unmistakably, the small clearing was empty except for Sybil.

Pain gripped her chest at the same time sorrow shredded her insides.

She was too late.

The note had said noon. The midday hour had come and gone with Sybil attempting to outwit her trailing maid. She glanced up, but the shrubs stood so high they blocked the overhead sun. The time must be after one at least—an hour later than Gideon had bid her meet him.

Did he think she did not wish to speak with him after he failed to call on her the day after Mallory’s birthday celebration? Certainly, Sybil had been angry and disappointed; however, that did not mean she would turn him down. There was still so much she didn’t understand about the last year: why he’d left her, why he’d returned, where he’d been, and, most importantly, where did they go from here.

Had Gideon returned to renew their courtship, or only to give her a sense of closure?

She needed to know before her brother forced her to make a decision about the Duke of Garwood. He’d come to meet with Silas and had made it known that he was willing to wed Sybil and make her a duchess.

Willing to wed…yes, Silas had confirmed that was how the duke had phrased it.

As if she were a woman who needed others’ pity.

As if she had no other recourse for her future.

He was willing to wed her.

The duke did not love her. There was no affection or even tender feelings between them. He would provide her with a home, an adequate allowance befitting a duchess, and in the future, a family. Any other debutante would have gladly accepted Garwood’s offer of marriage.

But Sybil was not a debutante…and she’d known true love.

She’d tasted passion so strong her thighs quaked at the mere thought of it.

She’d had a desire sparked so hotly within her that the proposal of a loveless, passionless marriage of convenience held little appeal to her—less than little appeal. Absolutely, unequivocally no appeal.

She hadn’t lied all those months ago. Even if Gideon were a blacksmith or a merchant’s younger son, she would still love him. She would willingly give up the life she knew as the sister of an earl to be with him. The notion of raising a family in Cheapside or moving closer to the port area did not frighten Sybil because Gideon would be with her. He would protect her, care for her, and make certain they had everything they needed to survive.

That much she was certain of, if nothing else.

Yet, her faith in Gideon did not diminish her irritation.

Footfalls sounded on the path, leaves crunching under heavy boots as someone came toward her.

Had she been spotted ducking down the narrow trail? Was someone coming to see about her well-being?

The last thing Sybil needed, the very last thing her brother would endure, was another scandal.

It seemed her name—and that of her brothers—was forever linked to one scandalous escapade after another. Sybil had been mentioned so many times in Lady X’s gossip column Silas had stopped berating her about it nearly three months prior. It might have had to do with his first mention in the sheet when he was turned away from Mr. Caruther’s Shop due to Slade’s mounting debts with the proprietor.

“Hello?” Sybil called down the shadowy path. If it came to it, she would claim she’d stumbled upon the trail unknowingly and taken it, becoming quickly lost. Then she would beg the intruder to show her the way back to the walking path. She’d bat her eyelashes and flash her most genuine smile if need be. “Hello. Please announce yourself.”

When the footfalls continued without slowing, Sybil backed farther into the clearing. Not that it would save her if the person were bent on harm or scandal.

When Gideon stepped into view, she exhaled sharply.

Twice in as many days, she’d thought the worst of a situation, and both times, it had been Gideon who appeared. Peculiar that in both instances she’d been expecting him but feared it would be someone else entirely.

He took in her appearance from head to toe. “Were you expecting another?”