Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

" A h, Lewis, old chap! To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine afternoon?"

The chipper greeting had Lewis freezing at the threshold of Gideon's study, a frown deepening on his face and his lips parting in surprise. Gideon chuckled at the shock he'd instilled in his friend. He sprang out of his chair with a bout of energy he hadn't felt in a long while, leaving the pile of paperwork he had been milling over abandoned on his desk, and made his way over to Lewis in two quick strides, draping an arm around his shoulder.

"Come, come," he continued. "In fact, I daresay I have been hoping you would come by. I've missed your company as of late."

Lewis allowed himself to be ushered over to the plush chaise located at the center of the study, but the look of astonishment never fell from his face. "Who are you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Gideon grinned, sitting Lewis down before he made his way to the sideboard. "Whiskey?"

"Yes," Lewis answered instantly. Then, he shook his head. "What has gotten into you, old boy? This isn't the Gideon I know."

"Oh, don't be so overly dramatic!" Gideon sang. He couldn't help himself. He had been in a superb mood for the past few days. Gideon was well aware of the reason behind his high spirits and, if Lewis stuck around long enough, he would surely figure it out as well.

" I'm being overly dramatic!?" Lewis spluttered, before jolting a little when Gideon swung around and flung toward him an entire decanter of whiskey. It almost flew by his left shoulder and it might have had it not been for his quick reflexes. "What in the—" In the midst of the turmoil, Lewis' attention was drawn to Gideon's coat hanging from the hat rack, with the mask peeking out of one of its outside pockets. The atmosphere seemed to shift. "You… you went to the Serpent's Den alone? I thought I told you to wait—" Abruptly, his eyes widened and he shot to his feet. "Did something happen when you went to the Serpent's Den? You got to Lord Appleby, didn't you?"

The mention of the Earl only soured Gideon's delightful mood. He snorted, rolling his eyes. "I wish that were the case, old chap. Unfortunately, I am expecting that blackguard Appleby will end up being a tougher adversary than the others before him."

"And why's that?" Lewis pressed.

"It's a myriad of reasons, really. But the most glaring one happens to be – and I don't mean to brag, but," Gideon swept an exaggerated bow, "it seems my reputation precedes me. That… jackanapscallion had been reluctant to engage with me the entire night I was there."

" Jackanapscallion ?" Seeming to relax now, Lewis returned to his seat, uncorking the decanter. "That's a new one."

"Yes. Like it? Thought of it on the spot," he smirked.

"I preferred dandyprat ."

Gideon scowled. "Well, in any case, I sought him out for three consecutive nights, even attempted the approach of playing a few losses and easing up to him first, but he wouldn't even let me get close. And if he realizes I am targeting him, he will only do all that he can to stay out of my way while there's still air in his lungs."

"Wise of him, considering the fate that befell his associates at your hand."

Gideon could only muster a grunt, sipping his whiskey with a tincture of bitterness and leaning back against the sideboard. A couple of days had gone by now without Gideon really thinking about his plan, and it was all down to Amelia. When he was next to her, she was all he could pay attention to. And when they were apart, she was all he could think about.

Gideon struggled to recall the last time he had allowed someone to dominate his thoughts like this. The only person he had ever dearly cherished was his brother, Jasper. But his love for Jasper was an entirely different thing from what he felt now. Following Jasper's death – after the Serpents had taken away the last of the Stanhope fortune at the time and rendered his young and sick brother without an on-the-clock physician, Gideon's sole focus had been retribution. While he navigated his eventual role as Duke – his friendships, acquaintances, and even his hobbies had all been a charade for the one true constant in his life, the Masked Rogue. In truth, he had been nothing more than an empty vessel, driven by the singular ambition to avenge his family's downfall.

But then Amelia had come into his life.

She'd thrust herself into his life, to be precise, but his resentment over that fact was steadily diminishing. They could be friends. Friends who were husband and wife and touched each other as if they were in love…

"So what's the plan now?" Lewis asked, cutting into Gideon's wayward thoughts.

Gideon cleared his throat and then loosened his cravat, hoping that Lewis wouldn't realize the direction his musings had taken him in. Pushing himself off the sideboard, he said, "Frankly, I haven't the faintest clue. I am like the plague to the Earl and he is bent on avoiding me at all cost. Not to mention that, unlike the others, I've discovered there isn't really much in the way of fortune I can take from him. I doubt he even has any family he cares for."

Lewis shifted a little. "That is quite the dilemma," he commented. "With how much of his life begins and ends with the Den, you wouldn't think he would be so particular about who, precisely, he throws down his cards with."

Gideon hummed in agreement, draining his glass.

Lewis quickly continued, "Then again, the simple fact his entire life and only real fame comes from that place is quite pitiful. Pathetic, even. Drowning himself in alcohol and debt to get a feel of his past glory as a Serpent. It explains his lack of fortune too." He tutted. "Perhaps that is God's way of punishing him, and it is best to leave him be—"

Gideon suddenly spluttered out the whiskey that had been swirling thoughtfully around in his mouth. An idea rapidly unraveled in his mind, whipping a devilish grin to his lips. "Lewis… you're brilliant," he whispered.

Lewis grimaced. Finished with his drink, he set his empty glass on the side table. "While I concur with that sentiment, I can't say I really know where you're going with this."

"Appleby's entire legacy is bound to the Serpent's Den. He has had a seat reserved at that exclusive club since before I was on god's green earth. In fact, the old pauper has no other seats anywhere. And you know what else I've learned in those few days of hounding him? He is deeply indebted to Clarkeson, the Den's owner, who himself is a pushover when it comes to chasing down dodgers and has landed in a lot of debt too because of it."

A frown creased Lewis' forehead. "I fail to see how this even deeper pit of fortune helps the Masked Rogue get anywhere closer to achieving his goals."

"No. That's just it, Lewis. Don't you see?" Excited now, Gideon's eyes lit up with mischief as a sly smile spread across his face. "I don't need the Masked Rogue anymore. All I need to do is toss Clarkeson a plum and take over the Serpent's Den. Then, by stripping Appleby of his membership without publicly disclosing the reason, I could cast him out of society entirely. And to add insult to injury, after assuming his debts to the Den, I can demand settlement."

Lewis' mouth fell agape, grappling for words. "You would… you would do all of that just to see him fall?"

Gideon laughed, clapping Lewis on the shoulder before beelining straight for his escritoire, rummaging around its compartments for some spare paper to begin inking a correspondence. "It is hardly anything major. When you think about it, from all the wealth I've amassed by tearing down the other Serpents, I would really only be purchasing the Den with their own money. It is textbook retribution!"

"But you would essentially be excommunicating him. The scandals that could surface, his entire family would be ruined…" Lewis hesitated, then whispered, "his daughter's reputation would be tarnished."

Gideon was too intent on setting pen to paper as hastily as possible to register most of Lewis' words. "It is the perfect execution." Pausing for a brief second, he looked up, face expressionless. "Holy mother of Heavens. I could do the same with the other Serpents too…" In a snap, he was back down scribbling away at the paper before him.

Lewis stumbled to his feet. "No, there… there has to be another way. We should think about this—"

"Pah! How else will I succeed in bringing the Earl down, man? He refuses to let me anywhere near him, and for good reason. I have all but shot myself in the foot by taking down so many of his associates before him."

"Then perhaps it is your sign to stand down. You have already done so much to avenge your brother—"

"I haven't done nearly enough," Gideon hissed. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, his vexation mounting each time Lewis attempted to redirect him from his path of vengeance. "They must all be dealt with – they are fortunate it is by pen and not by sword. And I believed you, of all people, would stay by my side throughout this. You were there when Jasper was killed because of the decisions of these snakes."

"Gideon, I am with you," Lewis assured him hastily. "I merely wanted you to consider the bigger picture. Don't you recall what happened with the Earl of Marlowe?"

The name made Gideon bite back his imminent reply. He couldn't forget the Earl of Marlowe. Marlowe was the only one of his victims who had made him feel a sliver of pity after he'd brought about his downfall. Gideon had targeted him with the same fervor he had the other Dukes and Earls who had exploited his father, and in doing so, upended the man's entire life. The Earl had eventually passed away a few months after Gideon had taken him for everything he had on a reckless wager he'd made when he was in his cups.

When the Earl died, leaving behind a destitute family, Gideon was left with an acrid taste of regret. The daughters had vanished from high society, their fates a blank page he refused to ponder. Yes, what he'd done to the Earl felt strikingly similar to what the Earl had done to the late Duke of Stanhope. But that was exactly what the man deserved. The matter was closed now and he wouldn't dwell on it any longer.

Only Lewis was privy to the toll the Earl of Marlowe's demise had taken on Gideon, a moment of weakness shared and swiftly discarded. But Lewis seemed intent on prodding that sealed chamber of conscience once more.

"The Earl reaped the consequences of his own despicable actions," Gideon countered firmly. "And I will not allow any of them to get away with their transgressions, Lewis. I will reach out to Sir Clarkeson immediately to see about purchasing the Serpent's Den."

"I think you should reconsider," Lewis repeated.

"Why?" Gideon demanded.

Lewis opened his mouth to respond, but Gideon saw the exact moment he decided against it. His shoulders slumped and he shook his head. "I learned a long time ago that there is no use trying to talk you out of something you have already decided on."

"I do not understand why you feel the need to."

Lewis only sighed. "Nor will you ever. I shall see myself out, Gideon."

Gideon exhaled a frustrated breath and got to his feet. "You do not have to," he tried but Lewis instantly shook his head, a smile flitting over his face as he made his way to the door. He paused midway through opening it. "I forgot to ask. How is the Duchess?"

Gideon didn't know how best to answer that question. It felt weighted, despite its simplicity. "She is doing well."

"That's good. Very good," Lewis' smile grew strained. "I hope the two of you find happiness in one another, Gideon. Truly."

He left without allowing Gideon the chance to respond. The moment he was gone, Gideon let out a groan, raking his fingers through his hair. It felt like he and Lewis were no longer on the same page and he couldn't understand for the life of him why. Lewis was his dearest friend, the only person who understood and had witnessed the darkness that Gideon hid deep in his heart. But now, Gideon felt more alone than ever.

Gideon, too, exited the study an hour later, needing to clear his mind. He would go to visit Jasper's grave. Every time he went there, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. Any thoughts of wavering decisively disappeared. And seeing that the end was so near, Gideon required all the motivation he could get.

As he rounded a corridor, a flash of goldenrod fabric and chestnut curls at the other end of the hallway caught his eye. Gideon's heart began to race and he quickened his steps to catch up to her. By the time he reached the corridor's end she had turned down, she was already descending the staircase. Gideon hadn't realized how quickly she moved, her movements swift yet unhurried.

He slowed his stride, remaining several paces behind her, hoping that she would remain oblivious to his presence. He was quite aware of how unusual this was but he was also curious. What did she do to occupy her time during the day?

His curiosity gnawed away at the irritation and dispiritedness that had consumed him only moments prior. He tucked his hands into his pocket as he started down the staircase as well, admiring her from behind. She had quite a lovely figure, enhanced by the elegant gowns she'd taken to wearing when she arrived here. Even the slope of her neck excited him, filling him with the urge to weave his fingers through the tendrils of curls there that had been left untouched in her hairstyle.

Amelia paused at the half-landing, then veered into the small library tucked away on its right. It wasn't a room Gideon frequented often. As a matter of fact, he'd erased its existence from his mind.

He made his way down the steps, pausing outside the now-closed rosewood door. He hesitated in going in. On the one hand, he wanted to see her, to share her company, to simply be around her. On the other hand—a feeling he'd never experienced before—he did not want to be deemed a bother.

Casting aside hesitation, he pushed the door open—and stopped short.

Amelia stood facing him with her arms crossed and her head cocked to the side. "Is there a reason you are following me, Your Grace ?"