Far Beyond Scandalous (35 page)

"I am not going anywhere with
you."
 
Amy spoke at the same moment
Marcus took a menacing step towards the steward, but she stayed her brother
with her hand.
 
The insult Michaels had
flung at her stung, but she would not let it bother her.
 
Not now, anyway.
 
She needed to remain calm since it was clear that Marcus was
thinking with his emotions and not his head.
 
Like his brother before him, Mark Overton was insane, probably suffering
from a madness borne in the blood of family.
 
There could be no other explanation.
 
He was simply better at hiding it than his brother had been.
 

Amy drew herself up and faced down
Overton as best she could, her own haughty look matching Marcus' almost
exactly.
 
"I will not leave, for I
have found a man to love me.
 
One who
would overlook my flaws and understand that I was not given a choice all of
those years ago."

"Yes, your good and loyal
doctor, lapdog to you that he is.
 
I
know all about him.
 
In fact, I also
know that you spent last night in his bed, cheap and tawdry whore that you
are."
 
Michaels shrugged as if that
didn't bother him in the least.
 
In
truth, it probably didn't.
 
"For
that reason, I sent him a little present this morning, one which will keep him
occupied for hours I am certain.
 
He
may not object to your damaged state, but he also will not reach you in time to
keep you safe."
 
Then the steward
smiled, his lips curling slightly at the corners, and Amy felt the evil in him
directly to her toes.
 
"He also
might not live to see the sunset, especially if I think he will cause problems
for us going forward."

Amy's anger flared bright and hot,
and she unleashed all of her fury and rage at society on the man standing
before her.
 
Just like everyone else, he
was conspiring to keep her away from the man she loved with all of her
heart.
 
"You will keep Gibson out
of this!
 
He is a good man, an honorable
one.
 
You will not spread lies about
him.
 
You will not hurt him!"
 
She took a step forward, heedless of the
pistol that was now aimed directly at her midsection.
 
"If I go with you, you must promise to leave him alone.
 
He will live a long and happy life with no
harm coming to him."
 

Then she risked a glance back at
Marcus and her mother.
 
She could not
leave them unprotected either.
 
"You will leave this family alone as well.
 
You will have your revenge on the
Cheltenhams, and you will not darken their door again.
 
Not them or their children or their
children's children.
 
Do I make myself
clear?"
 
Inside, she was quaking in
fear, but on the outside, she was cool and collected.
 
Just as Gibson would have been.

Gibson.
 
If she did this, if she departed with Michaels, she would never
see him again, though perhaps that was for the best.
 
He did not love her.
 
Well, she suspected he did, but he was too stubborn and foolish to admit
it.
 
Until he took that leap of faith,
he had made it clear that they could not be together.
 
If he ever took that leap at all, and she was no longer certain
that he would.
 
It broke her heart, but
it would not change the love she felt for him.
 
She suspected that a part of her would love him until her dying day.

He would be proud of her, at least,
for what she was about to do.
 
She
hoped.

Michaels appeared to be thinking
over her proposition.
 
"Well?"
she prodded, eager for this odious business to be concluded.
 
"Do we have a deal?
 
All of them in exchange for me?"
 
It was the best she could offer.

She had no doubt that Michaels
would most likely murder her immediately after he found a way to get his hands
on her fortune, but she tried her best not to think about that.
 
She had known when she made her offer that
she would be saving Gibson's life, as well as her family's, by sacrificing her
own.
 
He, along with Marcus and her
mother, would live.
 
His practice would
thrive.
 
Marcus would marry and ensure
that the Evanston line continued.
 
In
the end, that was all that mattered to her.

"Fine.
 
Yes.
 
We have a deal."
 
Mark
Overton still brandished the pistol, but his tone was much calmer.
 
In his mind, he was getting exactly what he
wanted.

"No!"
 
Marcus and Thea said the word in unison, but
Amy waved them off with a flip of her hand.

"It is my choice," she
reminded them softly, taking another step towards Overton and trying
desperately not to shudder at the thought of the man touching her.
 
Of him sliding his cock into her the way
Gibson had done just the night before.
 
It turned her stomach to imagine Overton's hands on her breasts and
elsewhere, but she knew that would be the first thing he did once he got her
alone in the carriage.
 
He would rape
her.
 
She could see it in his eyes.
 
She needed to be mentally prepared for the
assault.

Then, she looked back at her family
one last time.
 
"I love you both so
much.
 
Mama, I am so very sorry for all
of the heartache I have caused you.
 
Marcus, do not be afraid to tell your children stories about me.
 
Please.
 
And when Papa returns home, tell him that I love him.
 
And tell Gibson..."
 
She was unable to give voice to the last
part, but she was certain that both her mother and brother knew the truth.

Tears pricked Thea's eyes and she
made to reach for her daughter, but Marcus' hands held her back.
 
He realized that Amy had chosen to save both
of them because she believed she was expendable.
 
She was merely The Paragon and not the heir.
 

"We know, my darling
girl."
 
Thea was shaking now, her
delicate health still not strong enough to withstand such an ordeal.
 
"We all do.
 
Including him."

"I will not allow this,"
Marcus growled, and it was evident to Amy that he was attempting to figure out
how he might best attack.
 
However, with
his limited vision, any sudden movement would be a calculated risk at best.
 
"I will hunt you down, Overton, and
slaughter you like the coward that you are."

"It is not your choice,"
Michaels sneered as he reached out to grab Amy's wrist and yanked her to him,
his hot, stinking breath making her want to gag.
 
"Now come along, my dear.
 
We have a long journey ahead of us.
 
And I have so very many delightfully delicious plans for you.
 
Well, to me they are delightful,
anyway."

Gibson's blood ran to ice as he
listened to the exchange inside the morning room from his hidden location in
the front hall.
 
He had made it to
Cheltenham House in record time, tossing the reins of his horse, along with a
few coins to mind the beast to a street urchin.
 
Even if the child ran off with the animal, so be it.
 
Gibson had more important matters to attend
to.

Something inside of him, however,
had urged him to caution, and he'd crept quietly into the house.
 
There, he had found Towson unconscious just
inside the front door, which wasn't locked, just merely pushed closed to
preserve the illusion of propriety and make it appear that all was well within
the home.
 
The older man was still
breathing, much to Gibson's relief, despite the large lump quickly forming on
the butler's temple.
 
When Gibson heard
the rise and fall of loud voices deeper inside the house, however, he quickly
maneuvered the old man into a more comfortable position where he would be safe
and moved on.

Amy was still here.
 
He was not too late.
 
There was a chance to rescue her.

He had almost stumbled blindly into
the morning room, but good sense had held him back from announcing his
presence.
 
Hiding in the front hallway,
he had been able to overhear much of the conversation.
 
On any other morning, he would be ashamed
and appalled to discover that both Thea and Marcus knew not only of the night
Amy had spent in Gibson's bed, but how deeply his feelings for her ran.
 
This morning, however, he had more pressing
concerns.

When he heard Amy offer to
accompany Michaels to Gretna Green in exchange for the lives of those she
loved, Gibson wanted nothing more than to leap into the morning room and knock the
scoundrel to the ground, but a strong hand from behind held him back.
 
The doctor spun around, ready to fight the
new intruder, but was instead rendered speechless.

"Lord Evanston?"
 
The man looked very little like the jovial,
doting father that Gibson remembered from the previous season.
 
The earl now sported a craggy, matted beard,
and his frame was much thinner, as if he hadn't been eating much as of
late.
 
A partially healed scar was just
barely visible beneath the beard, streaking up his cheek and ending just under
his eye.
 
It was still red and slightly
raw in appearance, indicating that it was a recent acquisition.

The older man held a finger to his
lips.
 
"Quiet.
 
We can discuss many issues later.
 
Such as how you plan to care and provide for
my daughter once you two are married."
 
The earl's words floored Gibson, but the other man continued on quickly
as if he had merely commented about the weather.
 
Evanston inclined his head towards the breakfast room.
 
"For now, we must deal with what is at
hand.
 
Do you trust me?"

All Gibson could do was nod
stupidly.
 
This was Amy's father after
all, and Gibson had no other choice but to trust him.
 
At least not if he wanted Amy to live - which he most certainly
did.
 
Especially now that he'd
essentially been granted permission to marry her.
 
Not to mention that he loved her.
 
Desperately.

"Then go in there and cause a
disruption.
 
Just try not to get shot in
the process.
 
I would prefer my future
son-in-law in one piece if at all possible.
 
I'm certain my daughter would as well."
 
Then the earl was gone, sneaking away down the hall, far more
stealthily than Gibson would have credited him for.

That was not precisely the advice
Gibson had been hoping for from his future father-in-law, but it was a plan of
some kind, which was better than what he had come up with on his own.
 
Which was exactly nothing.
 
He had no idea where the earl had gone, but,
as this was the man's home and family, Gibson trusted him to do what was
necessary to defend them all.

Pulling himself up to his full
height and once more donning the mask of Viscount Ardenton, Gibson strolled
into the breakfast room as if he were invited guest.
 
He took in the scene before him, including the way Overton
gripped Amy tightly, her body pressed into his.
 
From the look of things, the steward, despite his earlier
protests, was clearly enjoying the closeness of her feminine curves.

The scene made Gibson want to strip
the flesh from the man's miserable hide, but that would have to wait until
later.
 
In this moment, securing the
safety of everyone in the room was of the utmost importance.
 
If Gibson had learned nothing else from his
sorry excuse for a father, it was that doing what was right wasn't always easy.
 
It was however, necessary and proper.

"I'm terribly sorry.
 
Am I late to the gathering?
 
I didn't think breakfast to be served quite
yet.
 
I can see that I was wrong."
 
Gibson worked hard to be his most officious
self, the guise of the viscount firmly in place.
 
"My apologies.
 
To
all of you."
 
Then he looked at
Michaels.
 
"Had I known that
weapons were required, I would have brought one."

"Stay back!"
 
Michaels swung the pistol around wildly, as
if trying to decide on a target that he liked the best.
 
"This is not your fight, my good man.
 
It is mine, even though we both have our own
uses, shall we say, for the aristocracy.
 
I thought we agreed on this matter."
 
Then he looked at Amy again who was shooting daggers at him with
her eyes.
 
"Then again, men like us
will often do whatever is necessary to get such a pretty little piece between
the sheets, will we not?"