Page 27 of The Lady Loves A Scandal

“Now, Lord Lichfield—henceforth known as the aggrieved party—has no legal standing as Lord Galway—now known as the…well, for lack of a better term since my mind is failing me, the comforted party—did not allow the fair Lady Sybil Anson into his home, I did. When she appeared on his stoop, he did as any gentleman would: he welcomed her into his home after I allowed her entrance. He even provided her with a meal, until, you, Lord Lichfield arrived to collect her. Should he have sent her into the cold, dark, dangerous night?” Sybil chortled, but Charles’ serious stare had her quieting. “I dare say, it is Lord Lichfield who has been negligent when it comes to the welfare and well-being of his sister by allowing her, unchaperoned and unprotected, to gallivant about London—“

Lichfield’s nostrils flared with indignation. “I will have you know—“

“Enough,” Gideon called, slashing his hand through the air. “I have heard quite enough, Charles, but thank you. And magistrate, Lord Lichfield could no more have kept Lady Sybil in the safety of her home as I could have discouraged her from coming to my townhouse. She is a woman with her own mind, and she does not take kindly to anyone, especially me or the earl, commanding her about.” He paused to take in Lichfield’s reaction. While he looked a bit less enraged, his shoulders were still tense, and his fingers balled into tight fists. “However, it is that mind that has stolen my heart completely. I was helpless to turn her away when she appeared earlier, though I knew I should have loaded her into my coach and delivered her home immediately.”

“It is what any gentleman worth his salt as such would have done,” Lichfield seethed. “And now, my sister is ruined. Her reputation is in shambles, and there is no one to blame but you, Lord Galway.”

Gideon’s chest seized at the earl’s harsh tone. He’d wronged and failed so many people in his short life—Charles had been taken, the elder Symthe had died before Gideon brought his son home, Sybil had been mocked and scandalized by his disappearance, and now, he was ruining her all over again.

He owed everyone present an apology; most of all, Sybil, for hers was truly the only opinion that mattered to Gideon.

Without a second thought, Gideon turned toward her, taking both of her hands in his as the cool night breeze ruffled her cloak hem and played with her long, brown tresses. “Lady Sybil”—Gideon held her gaze, fearful to look away—“I intended to arrive at your family home as planned to sign the contracts that would bind us as surely as a wedding ceremony. However, things beyond my control—beyond anyone’s control—took me away from London for over a year. I failed you, and I failed your family, but I saved my dear friend.”

Charles clapped Gideon on the shoulder, but still, he would not take his stare from Sybil’s. He needed her to know and understand—even if her family was unwilling to listen—that he realized he’d disappointed her but was determined to make amends.

“I promise you, Sybil, that I will do all in my power, from this day forward, to prove to you how sorry I am that I failed you. To show you each and every day that my love for you is true and never waning.”

Tears glistened in Sybil’s eyes, and Gideon feared for a brief moment that he’d upset her again, caused her some unintended hurt or anguish.

His heartbeat sped up until he felt the rush through his entire body. “While I owe your family much for protecting you when I could not—especially from the London gossip my disappearance caused—it is now I who should care for you.” Gideon squeezed Sybil’s fingers before bringing her gloved hand to his lips. “Lady Sybil Anson, I have loved you since the day we met. I loved you when miles and circumstances kept us apart. I will love you more and more each day until my last dying breath steals me from this Earth. Will you do me the extreme honor of becoming my wife? My viscountess?”

Gideon sucked in a deep breath and waited, the moments ticking by as they held one another’s gaze. It was no longer Gideon who held her stare, but Sybil making it impossible for him to look away. Without her, he would surely crumble. If she rebuffed his offer, Gideon would not likely survive it. He would be broken, ravished, and unable to go on.

“Well, it appears Lord Galway has satisfied his obligation to correct his slights against this woman’s honor in the eyes of the law,” the magistrate murmured.

Lichfield stomped his foot, taking a step closer to his sister. “Like bloody hell—“

“Yes, Gideon,” Sybil sighed. “I will wed you. For my love never diminished either, not even in your absence.”

Gideon gave a hoot of joy and swept Sybil into his arms—Lord Lichfield be damned—and swung her around. He hadn’t been sure she’d agree to wed him again, especially after everything he put her through.

“I do believe a kiss is proper…to seal the deal as one is wont to say,” Charles called with a laugh. “Come now, Lichfield, you should be happy. Now, you only have that blackguard, Sladeton, to see married. Your responsibility is half completed.”

Gideon chuckled as he halted, Sybil settling before him as she reached up on tiptoes to place her lips against his.

She pulled back quickly, her cheeks flaming at the intimacy displayed before so many. “Gideon, I never doubted this day would come.”

“The moment we would be standing in my drive in the middle of the night with your brother spitting mad, Charles prodding on his anger, and a magistrate present?” Her eyes twinkled as she nodded, her mouth pulling into a wide smile. “Well, I can assure you I never imagined a day such as this.”

The thunder of hooves stampeded down the road beyond, the beasts turning into Gideon’s driveway as the riders pulled to a halt and leapt from their mounts.

“Bloody hell!” Lichfield shouted as he stepped before his sister.

Gideon did the same, pushing Sybil behind him as the pair of newly arrived men sauntered forward.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gideon called.

“We be here on official-like business for Mr. Charles Smythe and Viscount Galway.” The men moved close enough to Gideon for him to take in their attire: threadbare, short trousers, and coats that had seen many days at sea. The salty smell of the open water emanated from the pair as their beady, narrowed eyes trained on him.

“What is your business with them?” Charles asked. “Not that we know where they are, mind you.”

“Mr. Charles Smythe be a deserter—a treacherous crime ta be certain,” one of the men offered as he ran his hand through his oily hair. “Viscount Galway is ta face charges of aid’n ‘im. Both be deemed capital crimes.”

“Capital crimes?” Sybil pushed from behind Gideon and marched forward until she stood nose-to-nose with the man who’d spoken. “Surely, this is a jest.”

The color had drained completely from Charles’ face, and his hand trembled where he held his cane. They’d both known capture was possible, and understood that the punishment would be severe if they were found, but they’d come so far, even spotting a bright light of hope in their futures.

Sybil had agreed to marry him.