Page 2 of The Lady Loves A Scandal

With the right amount of funding, anything was possible—the finest gowns by the most sought-after modistes, the agreement of kept secrets, the quashing of gossip, and London hackney drivers willing to pick up and deliver any passenger without question.

It likely also helped that her brother was the Earl of Lichfield and wed to the daughter of a wealthy marquess, eccentric as her new sister-in-law may be.

“Lovely.” Sybil stood, pulling her sleeves down to cover her gloves as she took hold of the side of the conveyance and swung her leg over the rail, finding the large wheel with her foot before bringing her other leg over to join the first as she hopped to the cobbled drive. Clapping her hands together to remove any dirt, Sybil turned a bright smile on the driver. “Thank you, sir.”

His birdlike eyes widened, and he appeared almost impressed by her resourcefulness.

Sybil’s mother referred to her daughter’s practicality in all matters as gumption.

Another thing lacking in every London debutante she’d met—and even some men.

Another carriage rattled down the street behind her as the wind increased, pulling at her hood and the hem of her cloak. The moist, earthy aroma on the breeze foretold the coming rain, which was likely to fall sometime during the early morning hours and reduce to a light drizzle by first light.

Sybil wrapped her arms around her midsection, determined to be safely home and abed before the first drops assaulted the filthy London streets. She made her way along the hedge to a shadowed area at the side of Lord Galway’s townhouse. The small, cobblestoned space was blocked from view—neither a passing coach nor the butler at the front door would spy them. Even if someone knew they were present, the darkened alcove masked them entirely.

The racing of her heartbeat at moments like these was fairly addicting.

The risk, the intrigue, the barely contained need that boiled inside her…

Sybil sped up as she moved down the hedge, arriving at the spot where she’d told Gideon to meet her. A part of her feared this excitement would fade once they were officially betrothed—not to mention once the wedding took place. Certainly, their adventure would continue even when they no longer had to sneak about town to see one another without a proper chaperone.

Holding her breath, she waited, certain she’d hear the familiar, solid footsteps that were Gideon’s trademark. He was confident, though never arrogant. He was kind, yet never with an air of pity. He was stoic, but Sybil knew the man beneath the dour, reserved facade.

The minutes passed, and a spike of anxiety coursed through her. Had Oliver, the bookseller, gotten her message to Gideon in time? Was the viscount in residence this evening, or had he gone to his club, never knowing she wished to meet?

A tendril of doubt wormed its way into her thoughts.

Doubt. A funny emotion—and one that never pertained to Lord Galway.

He was dependable to a fault, unlike so many other things in Sybil’s life.

She released a heavy sigh when, finally, his heavy footfalls sounded on the cobbled drive, moving in her direction.

“Sybil?” his deep baritone was almost disapproving and menacing in the darkness. “It is after midnight. What are you doing gallivanting about the dangerous city? I thought Mr. Oliver quite mad when he delivered your note earlier.”

Her heart, only moments before racing with anticipation, almost stopped when Gideon stepped into the shadows with her, throwing his arms wide to greet her. Without thought, she rushed into his waiting embrace.

“I had to see you, Gideon,” Sybil gushed, perturbed by the weakness evident in her voice.

“I will be round tomorrow—or, I suppose, later today—to sign the contracts.”

“Are you certain?” Even after their yearlong courtship, Sybil feared Gideon would change his mind. Cry off…leave her.

“Of course,” Gideon said, his words clipped, but he pulled her closer still and tucked her head under his chin. “The negotiations are complete. Everything is finalized except our signatures on the paperwork. I am to arrive on the morrow at eleven sharp. I anticipate that everything will be official by noon.”

“Silas has forbidden me to join you until it is time to put my name to the agreements.”

“It is the way of things, my love.” Her heart skipped a beat at the endearment, but she pulled back from his embrace, and he rubbed his hands up and down her arms as if he could impart a bit of warmth. “Business is handled by men, though that does not mean I value your input any less.”

“I think you appreciate more than my input, my lord,” Sybil said coyly.

“I value much about you, my lady.”

“Like what?” She couldn’t help but provoke him. It was in these private moments that Gideon allowed his usual stoic exterior to crumble and fall—at least for a few moments. “Tell me, or I shall remain here all night.”

“Your complex musings,” he said with a smile, leaning forward and placing a kiss on her forehead. Sybil couldn’t halt her giggle. “Your enchanting brown eyes.”

“My mud puddle murky eyes, you mean?” It was their game, and Sybil allowed her lids to slide shut. Gideon placed a kiss on each.