Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

H e hadn't been to the Serpent's Den in far too long and Gideon was starting to feel like he was losing sight of his mission. He leaned against the door of his balcony, folding his arms and releasing a deep sigh. Lewis had unveiled the identity of the final Serpent, and yet, Gideon had yet to take action. He was so close to fulfilling his revenge for his family that he could almost taste it… yet here he stood, waiting for the wife he never asked for.

Such are the ironies life throws my way, he thought ruefully. Now that Amelia was under his roof, he had to tread carefully. She knew who he was and, any misstep could lead her to revealing his true identity to the ton. She could easily shatter the image he had built up for years. And worst of all, she held the power to dismantle his retribution efforts against the Earls and Dukes who had once wronged his family. They would become martyrs at his expense.

The sound of his chamber door creaking open interrupted his thoughts, and a retort rushed to his tongue for whoever had dared to do so without knocking. But when he caught sight of Amelia stepping over the threshold, his annoyance vanished and something else, something far more carnal, took its place.

And it had the potential to drive him utterly insane.

She was a vision of grace and temptation, her gown hugging her petite waist, accentuating the gentle swell of her bosom that teased above the neckline. Her brunette hair, usually so simple, was now styled in elegant curls that pinned above her head and cascaded down her temples, drawing attention to her slender neck. For a moment, Gideon resented the fact that she had all but forced him into marrying her. Had their circumstances been different, perhaps she would have been the next lady to warm his bed after Mademoiselle Dubois.

For a breathless moment, Amelia seemed unaware of his presence. She entered the main room of his private quarters, looking anxiously around with her fingers delicately tracing the door handle as if preparing to flee at any second. He continued to study her, waiting for her to notice the partially open door to his bedchamber. When she noticed the door, she still didn't see him but approached it cautiously.

"Your Grace?" her voice, soft and uncertain, filled the room as she nudged the door further open. Her eyes landed on his face… before—ever so slowly—wandering down his body, taking in the sight of his bare, muscled chest.

In truth, Gideon had completely forgotten about his state of undress. He'd dismissed his valet earlier—wanting to be alone —and had been halfway through dressing when his mind began to wander. Now, witnessing the deepening shade of pink on Amelia's cheeks, he was grateful for his absentmindedness.

"Well, you certainly took your time," he drawled.

"I wasn't aware that I should hurry to see you," she answered after a slight pause. Gideon raised his brows in surprise. Her tone had a sarcastic bite to it that he'd never heard from her before. But her attention was still so focused on his bare chest that he wondered if she was even aware of what she'd said.

"Are you enjoying the view?" Gideon teased with a light chuckle.

Amelia's eyes snapped to his and her face grew such a bright shade of red that he was almost concerned she had caught a fever. She quickly looked away, mumbling, "W-why did you ask to see me?"

"I just wished to admire your lovely face." Gideon moved gracefully towards his bed, where his shirt lay discarded. "Is that so wrong?"

"I find that very hard to believe," she muttered under her breath, still looking everywhere but him.

"And why is that?" With ease, Gideon pulled his shirt over his head, adjusting the collar around his neck. He was tempted to ask Amelia's help in getting dressed, just to see her squirm, but he decided against it. "Do you not see yourself as beautiful?"

Amelia didn't answer, folding her arms instead.

Gideon, not missing a beat, picked up his cravat and began tying it meticulously around his neck. He closed the distance between them, angling his head to capture her flushed face in full view. "Don't tell me?" he gasped dramatically. "Have you never been courted before, Amelia?"

"T-that is none of your concern!" she gasped.

"How could it possibly be none of my concern?" he laughed, genuinely taken by her flustered appearance. "Whatever concerns you, concerns me, dear. That is the bond shared between husband and wife."

"Is that so?" She locked her eyes on him, her demeanor shifting. "Then what of you? I will not be surprised if you've never courted a lady either."

Gideon's smirk only widened at her bold suggestion. "You've got me. I have not."

Amelia blinked, clearly taken aback. "You have not?"

"Courtship and commitment are far too serious for a man of my tastes, who would much rather prefer the liberties of bachelorhood. However," he added with a sly grin, "That is not to say I haven't savored the pleasures of many a lady's company. Anything else you wish to know?"

"You have never been in love then," she said, though it sounded slightly like a question.

Gideon shook his head. "I have no wish to be. Love is a folly for the ignorant and pitiful."

"Having someone to love makes life far more fulfilling and enjoyable," Amelia countered softly. "And less lonely."

There was something about her tone that made his humor bank a bit. As if she understood the sting of loneliness almost as much as he did.

As if realizing the weight of her words, she quickly covered them up with, "Will you tell me why you took on the guise of the Masked Rogue?"

Gideon sighed, a pinch of annoyance drowning the empathy he'd felt for a moment. "You don't need to know everything about me," he stated coldly. "Anyway, I summoned you here to inform you that we will be attending a soiree hosted by a close friend of mine tonight. If I recall correctly, it will mark our first public outing as husband and wife, and so, for the occasion, I have prepared a gown for you to wear."

Gideon gestured toward the far end of the room, directing her attention to an open armoire. Hung up was a beautiful blue gown with lace trimmings and a tulle underskirt. On a hassock next to the armoire were two ornate boxes—one containing a stunning sapphire necklace and the other, a pair of pearl earrings.

Amelia made no move towards them. "Thank you," she quietly replied. "I shall ensure I am ready on due time."

"Now that we are married, there is no need for you to retreat to your own chambers to get dressed."

She stared at him, seemingly bemused. The sight was oddly endearing. "Do you mean for me to get dressed in here then?"

"Is it truly so unimaginable?" He shrugged on his waistcoat, wandering closer to her as he fastened the buttons. "As the gown seems quite intricate, I have no qualms with lending my assistance."

"I think I can manage on my own, thank you."

"I beg to differ. What is the matter, Amelia? Are you afraid of me?"

"Of course not," she answered quickly, too quickly.

Gideon tilted his head to the side as he regarded her. "In that case, come here."

Amelia stood her ground. He was genuinely uncertain whether she would give in to his command or not. He could see the battle in her eyes, the meek lady he'd first met clashing with the defiant nature he could see slowly peeking through.

At last, she approached him slowly, as if she were approaching a predator. Gideon studied her at length, making her squirm under the force of his stare. When she was close enough, he reached out a hand to touch the ends of her russet curls.

"Your hair is already styled," he observed. "That's good. All that is left is to help you dress, and then we should be ready to go." He stepped back, giving her space, and he could have sworn he caught a soft sigh of relief from her. Smiling to himself, Gideon went over to fetch the dress and brought it back to where she stood. He stared at her, raising an expectant brow.

Amelia frowned at him. "Surely you do not expect me to get undressed right here?"

"I do," he affirmed. Then snapped his fingers as if he'd only just remembered something. "Ah, you need help undressing, don't you? Please, turn around and allow me."

He didn't wait for her to answer, watching with amusement as she stepped away from him and tried to undo the strings behind her by herself. She was quite adept at it too, to his surprise, managing to twist her body away from his gaze as she pulled the laces loose. Clutching the dress against her bosom to keep it from falling to the ground, she extended her hand over her shoulder. "Give it to me," she said, with her back to him.

Gideon rolled his eyes before closing the gap between them in one long stride. She gasped loudly as he took her wrists and pulled them down by her side, though he realized that it didn't take nearly as much force as he'd anticipated. Her face was as bright as a tomato, her eyes fixed firmly on the floor as her dress pooled at her feet.

"There is no need to be modest," he purred against her ear. "You are a vision, Amelia. Surely you have heard that before."

He could have sworn the nape of her neck turned red. She shook her head, still refusing to raise her gaze. "I have not."

She didn't verbally resist, but her body tensed a little as he lifted the new dress and allowed the fabric to cascade down her curves. Once the gown settled around her body, Gideon half-expected her to move away and lace it up herself. But she stayed perfectly still.

An impulse made him inch closer to her. While his underlying intention was to make her uncomfortable enough to push her towards annulling their marriage—there was something else driving him to rest his hand possessively on her waist. A shiver rippled through her slight frame when he dipped his head closer to her, his breath brushing against her neck.

Amelia did not stiffen in the way he'd expected her to. Instead, a slight tilt of her head beckoned a subtle invitation. At least Gideon interpreted it as such, and he inched even closer until his groin was pressed against her soft derrière.

His hand remained at her waist, feeling the light boning under her dress. He adjusted the gown gently around her midriff, but he knew the truth. He wanted to feel her, to touch her, to bask in the lavender scent of hers that always drove him insane. Gideon allowed his hands to drift down her waist until they cupped her hips.

Amelia leaned into him. Was she aware of the effect she had on him? Gideon couldn't be sure, but he was beyond caring. He didn't think he could stop himself if he tried. His hands, bold and exploratory, traveled up her body, until they touched the underside of her bosom. She shuddered, arching her back ever so slightly. It only served to press her rear tighter against his groin, only served to make him lose more of his self-control. She would certainly feel his hardness beneath his breeches.

Gideon brushed his hand over her bosom—against the peaked nipples poking through the thin fabric of her gown—but he had the good sense not to linger. He knew he was playing with fire. He trailed his hands back to her hips, then pulled away with every ounce of strength in his body. His mind heady with lustful thoughts, he tried focusing on tying the strings behind her dress instead.

A quiet tension settled between them, neither one of them addressing what just happened. Gideon tried to focus on the task at hand—driving her away from him.

"I trust you understand the role you're expected to play tonight," he stated, a hint of command in his tone.

Amelia turned her head slightly to the side, her voice carrying a husky undertone that she had failed to rid of, "What exactly do you mean?"

Hearing her speak only drove the blood from his brain. Gideon gritted his teeth, trying to concentrate.

"You are the Duchess of Stanhope. I have a reputation to uphold and, as you must very well know, you now represent the Dukedom as well."

"Don't worry. I have no intention of unveiling your secret tonight."

Gideon clenched his jaw. He didn't like being reminded of the carrot she was dangling over his head. "You know nothing about who I am or what I do, Amelia."

"Then tell me?" This time, she twisted almost fully to look up at him from beneath long lashes. "Why do you hide behind the Masked Rogue?"

"How do you know about the Masked Rogue?" he countered.

"I thought you would have figured it out by now," she whispered. "How… disappointing."

Gideon grabbed her shoulders and whirled her around fully to face him. He shoved his annoyance to the side, lifting her chin and forcing her to meet his gaze. "You have your secrets. And I, too, shall keep mine."

"I have no illusions about that," she exhaled softly, her breath caressing his face.

"Why this fascination with me, Amelia? Or perhaps, is it the Masked Rogue that has captured your fancy? Did you seek me out, hoping to unveil the man beneath the mystery? Is that it?" he probed.

Amelia huffed what Gideon thought might be an incredulous laugh. She held out her hand, letting Gideon close the buttons at her wrists. "You couldn't be further from the truth."

"So, are you saying you did not fancy me from the moment you laid your eyes on me?"

"We are worlds apart. Our worlds are worlds apart. We have nothing in common, Your Grace. How could I?"

"I sincerely doubt that." Gideon moved to work on the other hand. He didn't know why he was so eager to get her to admit that she might have liked him, but he didn't question himself. "We might have more in common than you think. Tell me, do you have a taste for poetry?

Amelia eyed him warily. "Surely you are not implying that you do as well?"

"Your lack of faith in me is wounding," he sighed and she nearly smiled. "As it happens, I am quite fond of reading poetry in my spare time, though such moments come few and far between. Lord Byron's works, particularly, hold a special place in my collection."

"Is that so?" There was a note of excitement in her voice. "Lord Byron's works are lovely, yes, but I fancy William Wordsworth. I've even dabbled in penning some verses myself as profound as his… but found them rather lacking in comparison."

"I'm sure your creations are far better than you give them credit for."

"I doubt it," she murmured shyly. Now that they were done, she folded her arms against her bosom, as if she didn't know what to do with them. "But thank you. Have you ever written anything?"

"I have," he admitted.

"Truly?" Surprise laced her voice. "What have you written?"

He moved for the ornate boxes of jewelry and returned to her side, stepping closer to put in the pearl earrings. She stood as still as a statue, perhaps even holding her breath. "Love letters?" he offered at last.

Amelia stared at him for a moment before realization dawned in her eyes. She laughed, slapping him lightly on the arm. "You had me fooled for a second."

"That is because I am a trustworthy man," he insisted with a chuckle.

"So you'd like me to believe."

Gideon wrapped his arms around her to delicately fasten the clasp of the necklace at the nape of her neck. The humor between them sizzled away, leaving the heated tension that always persisted when they were this close. Once the necklace was secure, he didn't move away, searching her gaze for a moment.

And suddenly realized that driving her away might not be as easy as he thought.

Breaking the moment, Amelia took a step back, her eyes fluttering as if to clear her thoughts. "I shall wait for you in the drawing room." And, without another word, she spun and left the room.

Gideon was left standing there, momentarily speechless. He wasn't sure whether to feel triumphant that she had felt the need to escape, or frustrated that she had managed to leave so gracefully. He was at least grateful that she hadn't lowered her gaze when she'd left, or else she would be blatantly aware of the effect she had on him.