Page 26 of The Lady Loves A Scandal

Sybil moved to the doorway and peered down the hall toward the foyer. She couldn’t see her brother’s face and only had a clear view of Gideon’s back, his shoulders stiff and his chin raised.

“You’ve single-handedly ruined my sister,” Silas continued. “We should meet outside; however, dawn is a preferable time…and Regent Park an adequate location.”

Was Silas challenging Gideon to a duel?

Sybil couldn’t wait around to find out. She needed to stop the two men she loved from harming one another with anything deadlier than their words.

Rushing from the study, her half boots made no sound as she ran toward the foyer.

Chapter 8

3 April 1816

A stalwart magistrate, an incessant earl, a not-so-innocent maiden, an unsavory Jack Tar, and an indignant—yet furious—viscount…tell me, kind readers, what these five have in common. There is no rhyme or reason to any of it. However, that was the scene, which took place outside Lord Galway’s London townhouse. This author wonders if the next we hear of it will be at dawn—with pistols!

~ Lady X

Let us take matters outside,” Gideon said once more, his voice boomed as if thunder had erupted in his home. However, it brought Lord Lichfield and the man who’d accompanied him to a standstill. He wasn’t certain that moving their confrontation outside was any better, but at least it would not be handled in the presence of the fairer sex. “I am certain we can discuss this matter without being driven to violence.”

Lord Lichfield scoffed. “I should have pursued you all those months ago when you disappeared, leaving my family to shoulder the burden of scandal.”

Sybil’s brother pivoted and walked out the door, then, the other man following closely on his heels. Could Gideon get away with slamming the door shut, throwing the latch, and sneaking Sybil out the back door to the stables, returning her home safely while her brother waited outside Gideon’s townhouse?

That thought was dashed when Sybil appeared at his elbow, slipping her hand into his as she started for the door. Gideon was helpless to do anything but follow her lead.

“You should wait inside.” Gideon drew to a halt and turned to face her. “Allow your brother and me to speak privately. I may be able to change his mind about us.”

He looked down into Sybil’s brown eyes, like melted chocolate as the candles from above danced over her face. “Can we not attempt to change his mind together?”

Perhaps with Sybil present, her brother would be less prone to violence and more likely to remain calm and listen. However, glancing out the door, Gideon saw that Lord Lichfield hadn’t made it but a few steps and now faced him and Sybil, his hands on his hips and his boots shoulder-width apart. If his stance weren’t evidence enough of his fury, then the tightness in his jaw and his noisy, labored breathing was sufficient to give Gideon pause.

“Brother,” Sybil said, donning her most innocent smile as if they were welcoming Lord Lichfield for morning tea. “However did you find me?”

“It wasn’t difficult,” Silas snorted. “I know damned well when I forbid you to do something, it is exactly what you will do.”

“Forbade me to see Gideon? Oh, you did far more than that when you threatened to send me back to France.” The pair glared at one another, and Gideon was hesitant to interrupt. Their expressions said a war of words and wit was eminent; however, their tone remained cordial. “Whoever”—Sybil paused, her stare going to the man at her brother’s side—“is your friend?”

The man, dressed much like many solicitors and businessmen Gideon had encountered, blinked several times before speaking, “I am the Honorable Mr. Augustus St. Paulson. Magistrate for the Westminster borough.”

“A magistrate?” Sybil pulled Gideon ever closer until he felt the length of her pressed to his side. “But we haven’t done anything wrong. Have we?”

“He is only here to make certain you are returned to your family without controversy.”

“Returned…you say that as if I have been taken,” Sybil countered.

“Well, how were Slade or I to know you hadn’t been taken against your will?” Lord Lichfield asked.

“I can assure you, she was not.”

All heads turned toward the door where Charles stepped outside, his cane firmly in hand.

“Who are you?” Lichfield demanded.

“Mr. Charles Smythe—no fancy title or court appointment.” He strode forward to join the group, taking up a place to the right of Sybil as he addressed the magistrate. “May I give my accounting of this evening’s events? I am certain you will see that there was nothing untoward or criminal about Lady Sybil Anson visiting Lord Galway.”

“I suppose that is the way of things.” Mr. St. Paulson pulled a small notebook and pencil nub from his jacket pocket and nodded to Charles. “I am ready.”

Charles cleared his throat, adjusted his neckcloth, and tapped his cane tip against the cobbled driveway. If they’d been anywhere else, if the matter at hand weren’t so grave, and if Gideon hadn’t been staring straight into Lord Lichfield’s enraged eyes, he might have chuckled at his friend’s display.