Read Far Beyond Scandalous Online
Authors: Bethany Sefchick
Far Beyond Scandalous
Tales From Seldon
Park: Book 2
By Bethany M.
Sefchick
This book is a work of
fiction.
Names, characters, places, and
incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and
are not to be construed as real.
Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright
ã
2014
Bethany
M. Sefchick
All rights reserved
Table of Contents
For Mom
Who bought those
great romance novels when I was a little girl
For more books by
this author, visit:
http://www.bethanysefchick.com/
Late August, 1818
Seldon Park
Sussex
"We should return to the
house.
One of us will be missed
soon.
If we are not already."
Those were the last words Dr. Gibson Blackwell
wanted to say at that precise moment, but he knew that he must.
One of them had to do the proper thing.
The right thing, as it were.
Much as he didn't want to, for he was quite
content exactly where he was.
At the
moment, he also wished he could remain precisely where he was forever.
However wishes, more often than not, did not
come true.
Especially for him.
Most of the furniture scattered
around them was still draped with dust cloths, save for the one lounging couch
that he had uncovered for their use.
The room was cast mostly in thick, inky shadows, but the partially open
door where they had snuck in still allowed enough light through for them to see
to maneuver.
If they were included to
go anywhere.
Which they weren't.
At least not yet.
Well, he wasn't anyway.
He was not as certain about Amy, though she did seem rather content at
the moment.
The summerhouse had only recently
been closed, so there was no thick layer of dust coating everything as there
would have been in the spring, but the air still carried a stale quality that
only added to the sensation of being ensconced in their own little
hideaway.
All the place needed was a
fire in the central fireplace and the entire setting would have been quite cozy
indeed.
The driving rain was easing now, he
noted absently, and eventually someone would discover that both he and Lady Amy
were missing from the house party.
Gibson had an excuse for his absence, of course.
Earlier in the day, he had embarked upon a
trip into the closest village to arrange for Lord Berkshire's body to be
transported back to his ancestral home at Wellstone Abby for a proper
burial.
It was a sad thing that the
now-former earl had died, especially only days after celebrating such a joyous
occasion.
The wedding of Lord Benjamin
Sinclair, the Duke of Radcliffe, to Lady Julia Rosemont had been a happy time
for all - even for Berkshire and his much younger, and somewhat distant, wife.
However, that was the way life
sought to deal the cards sometimes.
Gibson was simply thankful that he had been present to help ease
everyone through the details of Berkshire's passing, including arranging for
proper transport of the body.
The trip to the village had taken
far longer than anticipated and his prolonged absence could, quite reasonably,
now be blamed on the rain.
No one would
question it.
Lady Amy had no such
excuse.
Though he also wasn't certain
that anyone even knew she was missing.
Yet.
"No one will care,
Gibson," Amy sighed, rolling over onto her stomach, and he couldn't help
but gaze at the lovely sight of her naked body sprawled on the oversized chaise
beside him.
He thought that he could
spend hours learning the contours of her back alone.
"Most of the guests have already departed."
Then she reached up and stroked his chest
with her soft, delicate fingers, making him shiver with longing.
"Those that have not will be engaged
elsewhere on such a dreary day.
As are
we."
She giggled a little,
something very much unlike her.
"And I am having the most wonderful time."
"As am I, sweeting.
As am I."
Gibson didn't know if he had ever spoken truer words in his life.
"Then let us linger a bit
longer.
Please."
She looked up towards the roof of the
summerhouse where they had both taken refuge from the sudden downpour.
He was thankful that the house had been
closed up well enough for the season so that the sides were sealed, but the job
not so thoroughly complete that it had been impossible to get inside.
" We have but this one afternoon.
Let us make the most of it."
"Still, we should not
linger."
Gibson was a bit older
than Amy, not to mention that he was a gentleman - or had been born one
anyway.
He had been trained from the
cradle to treat women with respect.
Just because he was in reduced circumstances now didn't mean that he
could so easily forget the lessons of his past.
"It is not right or proper.
Should your family discover what has transpired, it would mean ruin -
for both of us.
I will not allow harm
to come to you because of me."
Amy reached out and traced a single
finger along the strong line of his jaw.
"They will not know."
A look of sadness crept into her eyes, and for a moment, he could tell
she was not in the summerhouse with him but elsewhere, perhaps even in the
past.
"For once, Gibson, I wish to
do as I please.
And what would please
me is to remain here with you."
He frowned.
"Even if there are consequences to
those actions?"
He could not
believe that she would willingly be this foolish.
She might be considered on the shelf by some, but she was still
relatively young yet.
She might yet
marry, perhaps even this season.
And if
there was a child as a result of anything they did this very afternoon?
Gibson preferred not to think of how that
kind of scandal could shred not only her reputation, but her family's as
well.
Their blood link to the crown
would only grant them so much forgiveness.
She lowered her eyes and then
looked back up at him through thick, sooty lashes.
"Even if there are consequences," she affirmed
softly.
Then she sighed, and there was
so much pain in that one sound that he wanted to draw her close and reassure
her that all would be well.
"Here,
in this moment, I am merely another woman lying with a man she cares for.
I am not Lady Amy, the daughter of the Earl
of Evanston, distantly in line for the throne, and considered to be the dowry
prize of the season, like some brood mare at Tattersall's.
I am just me."
Rolling over onto her back and
pulling the sheet with her to cover her breasts, Amy stared at the ceiling, a
sense of melancholy creeping in to what was an otherwise perfect afternoon thus
far.
"You see me as I am,
Gibbs.
You see the woman and not the
false idol so many expect me to be."
"I always have,
pet."
In truth, she was so much
more to him, but, at the heart of it all, she was simply Amy.
The woman he cared for more than any other.
She was a dream he could never possibly hope
to attain.
Not forever anyway.
Yet, for the moment, she was here.
With him.
"From that first moment we met in Lady Radcliffe's entrance hall, I
have always seen you as a woman."
"And you are one of the
few."
Amy reached out to caress
him again, her fingers tangling in the crisp hair of his chest.
"So please, Gibbs, do not deny me this
one afternoon.
Please?
For when we leave, I will have to be her
again, and I will not be able to even see you, at least not without creating a
scandal.
This moment is all we
have."
He knew she spoke the truth.
From the moment he had pulled open the door
of the summerhouse to shelter them from the drenching rain, he had known that
this would be nothing more than a stolen moment of time.
"I know."
It was all he could say.
Both of them were experienced enough in the
ways of society to know the truth of their situation.
"Then do not squander what
little time we have remaining."
There was entreaty in Amy's gaze, and he found that he could not deny
her anything, especially this.
Not when
he longed for it as well.
"I can
think of so many other things that I would love to experience with you."
So could Gibson, were he being
honest, but he had made a vow to both of them when he kissed her for the first
time earlier that day.
He would give
her a taste of the seductive passion she craved, but not everything she was
asking for.
He could not take her maidenhead.
If he did, she would be ruined, and he would
not do something so cruel to her.
Still, he had informed her as she'd wound her arms around his neck most
delightfully, there were other things they
could
indulge in
together.
Things that he had, in fact,
dreamed about.
Often.
Repeatedly.
Some as recently as last night.
For if there was one thing that Gibson Blackwell did possess, it was an
active and vivid imagination, at least where Lady Amy was concerned.
In fact, this afternoon had been
nothing short of a fantasy for a man in Gibson's position.
As one of the most respected physicians in
London, not to mention one of the Prince Regent's most trusted medical
advisors, there were many doors that were open to him that were closed to
others in the gray area occupied by those who lay between the working class and
the nobility.
That his father had once
been a viscount probably didn't hurt his standing either, but that had been
long ago, so long that it was another lifetime as far as Gibson was concerned.
Still, Gibson was surprised that he
had been invited to attend the wedding of Lady Julia Rosemont to Lord Benjamin
Sinclair, the Duke of Radcliffe.
Simply
because he had treated Lady Julia after she had been grazed by a bullet at a
duel involving Radcliffe and his arch rival, the Marquess of Landover, Gibson
hadn't presumed that he would be made part of Radcliffe's inner circle.
That would have been insane.
Yet, for some odd reason, Gibson had been
openly welcomed, adding yet another layer of scandal to the already overly
scandalous union between the duke and his lady love.
Gibson hadn't been surprised,
however, to find that Lady Amy Cheltenham, daughter of the Earl of Evanston,
was in attendance at the wedding house party as well.
Lady Amy and Lady Julia, the new Duchess of Radcliffe, had become
fast friends during the end of the previous London season, so it stood to
reason that Amy would be present to celebrate the wedding of her new friend to
the man of her dreams.
What Gibson hadn't counted on was
that Lady Amy would still be just as smitten with him as she had been the day
they had first met in Lady Julia's entry hall.
Not that he was complaining.
He
was still smitten as well.
Possibly
more than smitten.
He also knew that
their mutual attraction - for really, a man had to be blind not to notice Lady
Amy's stunning beauty - would go precisely nowhere.
She was the daughter of an earl.
He was a physician, a man engaged in a form of trade, and, worse still,
the son of man who had been stripped of his title, lands, and wealth by the
crown.
It was the perfect recipe for
heartache.
Except that the week leading up to
the wedding of the duke and duchess hadn't felt like a heartache.
In fact, it had been simply wonderful.
He and Amy had danced and flirted,
"accidentally" partnered for various events, and, in general, given
Gibson a chance to live out his fantasy.
However, it had also served to remind him of all that he would never
have, everything that was now denied to him because of his father's actions.
Much as he desired her, he would never have
Lady Amy in his bed.
She would never be
his wife.
Then, as he walked back from town,
arrangements for the transport of the body finally made, it had started to
rain.
And rain.
And rain some more.
In fact, by the time he crossed the
elaborate stone bridge leading to Seldon Park's grounds, he was certain he'd
never been as wet or as cold in his entire life.
He was also tired, the weight of his waterlogged clothes heavy
and making his limbs stiff.
Then,
Gibson had seen the summerhouse at the top of a small rise, its door visible from
the road, and he had decided to take a chance and attempt to seek refuge
inside.
It would be blessed relief to
get out of the rain, if only for a little while.
It was on his way up the muddy path
that he saw the flash of lavender-hued fabric through the trees and caught a
glimpse of honey blonde hair.
He knew
that it could be no one other than Lady Amy, for he was convinced he would know
her presence even if he were struck blind in an instant.
Then, his mind turned to more practical
concerns, such as what she was doing out in such nasty weather and why she was
unchaperoned.