Page 20 of The Lady Loves A Scandal

Chapter 6

22 December 1815

London is quiet with so many seeking their country homes for the Christmastide and New Year’s holidays; however, this author witnessed quite a display of family quarrels—in the middle of Bond Street, no less. The Earl of Lichfield, with his wife and Lady Sybil in tow, was turned away from Mr. Caruthers’s Shop due to an unpaid bill by none other than Mr. Sladeton Anson, the earl’s twin brother. I do not think this will bode well for finding Lady Sybil a suitable husband…yet, much will be forgiven and forgotten by the time Parliament resumes in the new year.

~ Lady X

The sudden heavy pounding that echoed throughout Gideon’s townhouse brought a sudden panic to Charles’ stare as both men set down their utensils and gazed at one another silently across their plates. Despite the roaring fire in the hearth, stoked at least twice an hour, Charles wore a heavy blanket around his shoulders to ward off the chill that his friend said clung to his bones far more adamantly than a mutton chop.

Gideon had only briefly experienced the frigid night air when he was made to sleep outdoors during the time he and Giles searched the docks for the ship that kept Charles captive. His friend spoke of weeks and months at sea, sleeping on the open deck when the roiling of the ocean permitted, and how the frothy salt water had seeped through even the heaviest of garments.

The fires in every hearth would remain burning hot every day for the rest of eternity if it brought even an ounce of comfort to Charles.

The knocking receded, and Pires, the Galway butler, shuffled by the dining hall toward the foyer.

Apprehension marred every line on Charles’ once boyish face.

“I have given my servant specific instructions that no one is to pass my threshold without my explicit permission,” Gideon said, nodding at their meal. “I am not expecting anyone. Therefore, we shall finish our repast undisturbed.”

The tension did not leave Charles, but he followed Gideon’s lead and took hold of his knife once more. He cut a piece of duck into minuscule portions before bringing a bite to his mouth.

Gideon had taken great pride in watching Charles gain weight and strength as each day passed. His skin no longer had the yellow hue of sickness, nor did his fingers shake when he brought his glass to his lips. Yet, still, the haunted stare remained. Gideon wondered if it would ever disappear completely, even when official word came from the Admiralty Courts declaring Charles a free man.

“What if they send orders demanding my return to the Caledonia. Or, worse yet, send the pressmen?” Charles’ head hung as he made a show of staring at his plate, his knife moving a roasted turnip from one side to the other. “I shouldn’t have accepted your offer of lodging. I have put your entire household in danger.”

Gideon’s chest tightened with fear, though he refused to let Charles notice his trepidation. “It is highly unlikely that a man in your condition”—Gideon gestured toward his injured leg nestled under the table—“would be found useful on a warship.”

“There are many tasks aboard a ship that one does not need the use of his legs to successfully accomplish.” Charles had spoken of this exact subject several times when Gideon had hired a physician to examine his friend and submit a written report to be included with his paperwork sent to the Admiralty Courts. As well as when Gideon had several pairs of trousers commissioned at his tailor’s, and even that very morning when Gideon had bid Charles accompany him to Hyde Park. “They may not demand my return to a ship, but they could turn me over to the courts for judgment.”

Gideon had long since run out of encouraging words to ease Charles’ fears. “We can only wait until word arrives with regards to your fate.”

While Charles had little confidence in the outcome of his friend’s request to the courts, Gideon was positive that Charles would be released from his impressment duties. If Charles’ injuries were not persuasion enough, Gideon was prepared to offer a large sum to make certain Charles’ bounty was paid.

Gideon would buy his friend’s freedom a thousand times over if that was what it took.

Being of noble birth, Gideon had never known the fear of being pressed into service to the crown. Neither of them could have imagined the consequences of their blithe night of drinking by the docks. To think that they could awaken and have their lives be utterly unrecognizable hadn’t crossed either of their minds. Gideon because his station in society placed him above such things. And Charles because he’d trusted Gideon.

A faith that had been obviously misplaced.

However, Gideon would not fail Charles again.

“My lord,” Pires cleared his throat at the door. “A missive arrived for you.”

Gideon waved the servant closer and snatched the letter from his hand, immediately noticing the distinctive seal of the courts. Maritime tradition boasted the silver oars as the symbol of their authority.

The audible gasp from across the table said that Charles had seen it, too.

“I hadn’t expected a response so quickly,” Charles said.

Gideon met Charles’ gaze. “I didn’t either. My solicitor, who has an old friend in the courts, said it could take up to a year to hear anything on the matter.”

An entire year during which time Gideon had been prepared to keep Charles hidden and safe.

A year before he could speak on the matter to Sybil, and that was if he could remain in her good graces for that extended period of time.

“Are you going to open it?” Charles rearranged the blanket covering his legs, attempting to hide his nervousness regarding what the letter held.

Gideon extended his arm, holding the letter out for Charles to take. “I think you should do the honors.”