Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

G ideon could not concentrate—no matter how hard he tried. Two days. For two days he had been trying to pen a correspondence to his steward in Bath but had not been able to focus at all. All because of the brown-haired, blue-eyed lady who had been weighing on his mind ever since the night of the Duke of Gendway's soiree.

"Damn it all!" Gideon flung the quill pen back into the pot with such force that it nearly toppled the whole thing over. He ran his hands over his face, trying to banish her from his mind and failing miserably. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why she was so upset with him. Yes, perhaps he should not have been so sharp with her when she'd almost exposed him as the Masked Rogue in the middle of a crowded ballroom—but how else had she expected him to react? And for some reason, Gideon had a tingling feeling that there was something else at the base of her anger, something rooted deep within her.

And it had been two full days since he'd last seen her.

Amelia was rather adept at locking herself away in her bedchamber. And on the rare occasions she did venture out, which he only found out after grilling Thomas, her time was spent either in the garden or the east wing's library. Once, Gideon had been tempted enough to go in search of her and demand to know why she was so upset with him. But he'd managed to restrain himself just in time. He shouldn't care. He didn't. She was just a slight hindrance in the grand scheme of things, which was his revenge. Gideon reminded himself he shouldn't forget that.

If she is so upset with me, then she should just get the marriage annulled and over with , he thought glumly.

With a frustrated grunt, Gideon rang for Thomas. The butler arrived in only a few minutes, slipping into the room and bowing deeply with his usual formality.

"You summoned me, Your Grace?"

"Yes, it is about my wife," Gideon grumbled, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. "Have you managed to find out anything about her?"

"I have not, Your Grace," Thomas confessed. "At least, what I have found is nothing interesting."

"Let me hear it. At this point, anything could be useful."

"Well, before relocating to London with her aunt and uncle, the Viscount and Viscountess of Hendale, Her Grace lived in Brighton. She has a sister who, along with her husband, the Earl of Talley, still resides there."

Gideon waited a moment for Thomas to continue but the butler said nothing more. "Is that it?"

"Erm, yes, Your Grace."

"You're right." Frustrated, Gideon ran his fingers through his hair. "That isn't anything useful at all."

"Forgive me, Your Grace. I will try to find more that will suit your needs."

"Thank you, Thomas. You're dismissed."

Thomas bowed again and slipped silently out the door, leaving Gideon to his thoughts once more. He stood and began to pace, grappling with how to proceed. He needed to find a way to get Amelia to annul the marriage as soon as possible. But would she do that if she was still upset with him? What if she chose to stay married to him out of pure spite? She didn't strike him as the vindictive type, but Gideon wanted to err on the side of caution.

But what could he do to make it up to her? Apologize? He did not even know what to apologize for!

A nice meal might be able to do the trick , he thought. She seems rather simple. Perhaps if we dined together and I—

The door opening cut into his train of thought. "Not now, Thomas. Unless there is more you can tell me."

"I'm afraid your butler is off being busy elsewhere," came Lewis' easy drawl. He made his way over to the sideboard to fix himself a drink.

Gideon frowned. He perched on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. "What are you doing here?"

Lewis took his time, not answering until he had a glass of brandy securely in his hands. "I never feel welcome here anymore, you know," he lamented with his usual theatrics. "Have I wronged you in some way, old friend?"

"Not at all, old friend . Unless you count keeping secrets," Gideon retorted sharply, causing Lewis to chuckle in response.

"Come now, any secret I have kept from you has been for your own good."

"Wrong answer," Gideon replied and Lewis chuckled again. "Ah, now that I've got you," Gideon pushed himself off his desk and moved over to the sideboard to pour himself some brandy too, "did you manage to uncover which gaming hells the Earl of Appleby has been frequenting lately?"

The amusement faded from Lewis' face. "I'm still in the process of gathering that information."

"Still? You have never taken this long to learn such things in the past."

"Well, Lord Appleby is a little different from the others. And I have been busy."

"With what?" Gideon raised a brow. "With courting Lady Harriet?"

Lewis choked on his drink and began to cough profusely. When he'd gathered himself, he lifted teary eyes to Gideon. "What are you talking about?"

"Am I wrong? Are you not courting Lady Harriet?"

"Of course not!" Lewis exclaimed defensively.

"Really? But she's quite a catch, isn't she?" Gideon teased.

"She is but— no, I'm not going to fall into your trap. I am not courting Lady Harriet and that is the end of it. Now, can we move on? I came here to enjoy your company, maybe play a few rounds of billiards," Lewis shrugged, eager to change the subject.

Gideon scrutinized his friend for a moment, debating whether to press further or let it go. Finally, he relented. "Alright, billiards it is," he agreed, concluding that Lewis would open up in his own time.

"Marvelous." Lewis stalked up to him, handing him his unfinished glass. "I know you're far better at the game when you are inebriated and I am itching for a challenge."

A smirk played on Gideon's lips. He accepted the glass. "Challenge accepted," he declared before downing the rest of the drink in one swift gulp.

Amelia cautiously poked her head out from the doorway of the quaint library tucked away in the east wing, looking left and right. The hallway was dim, bathed mostly in the soft glow of sconces, their light casting long, dancing shadows on the lush carpet below. Quietly, she crept out of the room, closing the door behind her with the softest click, as if the slightest noise would alert Gideon of her presence. She tucked the letter she'd just finished reading from Dorothy close to her side, planning to pen one back and send it off at the break of dawn.

She didn't want to risk bumping into her husband, but she also felt as if she was going insane locked up all day. She was itching to go out into the garden and get some fresh air, to stretch her legs and forget about her situation, even for a little while. Perhaps on her way back, she could beeline for the main library first to borrow some new books too.

Wrapping her arms about herself, she started down the corridor, hoping she was going in the right direction. While Jenny had given her a tour of the east wing, navigating the expansive corridors alone was still daunting. She came to a stop at the end of a crossway, forgetting for a moment whether she should turn left or right, before ultimately choosing the path to her left.

She walked for a while, relaxing as the minutes went by. The corridors were tranquil. Because of the late hour, she was yet to pass any of the maids or footmen, but she remained vigilant. If she ran into Gideon, there was no telling whether she would be able to escape with her pride still intact.

"Have it delivered in the morning." As if her thoughts had summoned him, Amelia heard Gideon's low voice coming from around the corner. In a panic, she flattened herself against the wall, her heartbeat steadily speeding up.

"Of course, Your Grace." She recognized the butler—Thomas'—voice. "And what of Her Grace?"

"Amelia?" Amelia held her breath, pressing her hand against her thundering heart. He didn't seem to be coming closer, thankfully. "I shall handle her myself."

Oh, dear God. Amelia backed away, needing to escape. Her limbs momentarily froze when she realized she could no longer discern Gideon's whereabouts. But the thought of retreating back to her own chambers was equally nauseating.

Deciding impulsively, Amelia slipped into the closest room to her. She could just wait until he passed, she thought to herself. She pressed her back against the cold door, closing her eyes in relief.

However, her respite was short-lived.

"I have been wondering when I would get to meet you."

Amelia gasped at the male voice, eyes flying open. An average-height gentleman stood on the other side of the room—which she just now recognized as a billiards room—with a glass of what she assumed was either whisky or brandy in his hand. He swirled the glass idly, looking intrigued as he regarded her.

Panicking, she spun and attempted to exit but the man's smooth voice halted her. "There's no need to run," he assured her. "I won't hurt you. I'm sure Gideon will have my hide if I do."

Amelia lowered her hand from the door handle, cautiously looking back at him.

He simply shrugged. "Or perhaps he won't. I can never quite understand what that man is thinking lately."

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice just a breath above a whisper.

Miraculously, he heard her. "Ah, forgive me. Where are my manners? I am Lord Lewis Rowley, Earl of Janesbury. And if I'm not mistaken, you must be the newly titled Duchess of Stanhope."

"Yes," she responded in a hushed tone.

"I presumed as much." Lord Janesbury strolled over to the hearth. "Are you hiding from someone, Amelia?"

Amelia's brows furrowed at his casual use of her name.

"Ah. You'll have to forgive me again. I tend to over-familiarize myself with others too quickly. A friend of Gideon is a friend of mine, after all."

"The Duke and I are not friends," Amelia couldn't help but say.

"Of course not, you are married—" Lewis stopped as he seemed to read Amelia's solemn expression from across the room and tilted his head to the side, eyes glittering with interest. Amelia wondered fearfully if she should have just held her tongue instead. "…Is that so? Then, if you will forgive me for asking, why had you been so eager to marry him?"

Amelia bit the inside of her cheek, not taking her eyes off him.

Lewis chuckled. "Ah, it is not my place to pry. Well, I must say that it was nice to finally make your acquaintance, Your Grace."

"It is nice meeting you as well."

"Tell me, Amelia," Lewis ventured closer still, resting his hip against the billiards table, "can you keep a secret?"

"When I need to."

His laughter rang out, warm and genuine. "I like that answer. I require your help with a matter that's been troubling me lately, something I've been attempting to resolve on my own but cannot make any headway."

"I'm afraid I—"

His face suddenly grew serious. "It concerns the Masked Rogue."

Amelia frowned. "The Masked Rogue?"

"You know as well as I that Gideon is the man behind the infamous Masked Rogue. And if he continues along that path of revenge, I fear he will never recover."

"Revenge?"

Lewis nodded grimly. "He has ruined the lives of several Dukes and Earls under this persona and he will not stop until he's gotten what he wants."

"Wh—what do you mean?" Amelia blinked and quickly corrected herself, "What does he want?"

"Retribution for the wrongs inflicted upon him in his past." Lewis sighed heavily, setting down his untouched glass. "I understand why he does the things he does but, I fear if he persists, he may cross a point of no return. If he hasn't already. And there would be no going back after that. Especially after what transpired with the Earl of Marlowe…"

Amelia's body suddenly tensed up, her heart thundering in her ears. She worked to keep herself steady, but the mention of her father sent her thoughts spiraling and her nerves on edge. Lewis didn't know about her relation to the Earl of Marlowe, she realized. Otherwise, he wouldn't have mentioned him so casually in front of her like that. That likely meant that Gideon didn't either…

Amelia struggled to find her words, quelling the anger that rose in her. "W-what happened with the Earl of Marlowe?"

Lewis gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Far be it from me to say."

"And—and these Earls and Dukes were targeted specifically by the Duke? It wasn't a coincidence?" she managed to sputter.

"Regrettably, yes. The Serpents. He bears grudges against each and every one of them."

But what could my father have done to warrant his entire life falling apart? And my life. And Dorothy's…

Bitterness swelled in her and Amelia tried her best not to show it to Lewis.

"Why?" she asked as softly as she could. "Why is he doing all of this?"

Lewis looked her in the eyes, but then shook his head. "That is not my story to tell, I'm afraid. Perhaps one day, Gideon will tell you himself. All you should know is that he must be stopped before he goes too far."

"I don't understand. Why are you telling me this? What do you expect me to do about it? Why don't you confront him yourself?" she urged.

"He will see it as an act of betrayal, as if I'm turning against our friendship. It will be even more difficult getting through to him after that. But you… you might have a chance." He wandered back over to the fireplace, deep in thought. "He's planning to target the Earl of Appleby next. He hasn't put his plan into motion yet, but it is only a matter of time before he strikes with full force. Even if he must draw blood. And I don't think I can restrain him for much longer."

"I still don't understand what you think I can do about it. The Duke and I are not close."

"But the closeness I share with him is precisely what renders my interference useless. It has only caused him to double down thus far. Maybe, just maybe, you could reach out to him, persuade him to abandon this destructive path of vengeance. If you grant me this favor, Amelia, I will forever be in your debt."

"I…" She didn't know what to say. His request was so earnest, tinged with such desperation, that she couldn't find the strength to turn him down.

Perhaps it would not be such a bad thing , she thought. Now that she knew her father had not gotten caught in a crossfire but had actually been targeted, she needed to understand why. Why Gideon wore that mask and why he had been so determined to ruin her father's life.

"All right," she finally murmured. "But I cannot make any promises."

"And I cannot ask for anything more," Lewis said, letting out an audible breath of relief. "I'd gotten the feeling that your marriage to Gideon might have been a good thing, you know. Perhaps you will prove me right yet."

Amelia didn't say anything in return. Lewis approached her, the grim look on his face disappearing and a small smirk appearing in its stead.

"If my suspicions are correct and you are hiding from Gideon, you'll likely be caught if you go back out there now. Allow me to distract him for you."

Amelia retreated from the door, allowing him the space to reach for the door handle. "Thank you," she whispered.

He winked at her. "It is my pleasure, Your Grace."

Then he left the room. Amelia pressed her ear to the door and was able to make out the faint sound of Lewis' voice as he greeted someone. The thought that Gideon had nearly come upon them made her heart tremble with an odd sense of excitement and trepidation.

But how did she plan on stopping him if she couldn't even be in the same room as him? Amelia sighed, wondering if she had acted rashly in agreeing to Lewis' plea. She hadn't a clue how she would ever be able to approach Gideon about his revenge.

Yet, standing idly by and watching another family potentially crumble under Gideon's relentless pursuit was something she couldn't bear. The painful memories of her own family's struggles and her sister's suffering were too fresh, too raw. Amelia wanted nothing more than to prevent anyone else from suffering in that way.

Even if she couldn't stop him, she at least had to figure out why he was doing all of this, why her father had been targeted.

Just then, Amelia decided, she would not rest until she had uncovered the full truth.