Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

T he journey to her bedchamber after dinner had been quiet and contemplative. Amelia readied herself for the night in a hushed routine, with neither she nor Jenny breaking the stillness with conversation as they stepped across each other in silence. And even as she climbed into bed, closed her eyes, and willed for sleep to come, Amelia lay there, with her thoughts lingering back to Gideon's abrupt departure from the dinner table.

The mention of this Jasper had certainly struck a chord. Clearly, he held some kind of significance for Gideon. But how?

That question alone was enough to drive her to the brink of madness. Amelia didn't know how long she had laid there but it felt like hours went by as she tossed and turned, thinking back to the look on Gideon's face as he shot down her question. It wasn't like when she would mention the Masked Rogue— this time, there was a hint of melancholy in his eyes. She had upset him.

Would it be too bad to apologize to him now? At this rate, Amelia didn't think the guilt pressing on her chest would lessen if she didn't.

With a groan of frustration, she sat upright, her chestnut locks tumbling about her shoulders. Amelia ran her hand over her face, awash with a fine sheen of sweat from the warm night. She couldn't possibly visit Gideon's bedchamber right now. That would be bordering on lunacy, scandalous even, and there was no guarantee that he would want to see her. She should leave it be, sleep, and hope that there was less tension between them tomorrow. As she usually did.

"But why should it be scandalous if I am his wife?" she gritted. And he is my husband. Whether or not our marriage may have been forged in the traditional sense, surely there is something there.

Amelia exhaled deeply, then shook her head to dispel the thoughts. She swung her legs over the bed's edge, sweeping her hair over one shoulder in the hopes that it might relieve some of the warmth. Barefoot, she padded over to the balcony doors and opened them, ushering in a gust of fresh air. Moonlight cascaded into the chamber, bathing her skin in its cold, silvery hue.

She was about to step out onto the balcony when the unopened letter on her vanity caught her eye.

Amelia felt a pinch of guilt settle on top of everything else when she realized she had neglected reading her sister's letter all day. She'd planned on reading the letter after breakfast but the day's events, from the unknown grave to Gideon's abrupt exit from the dining room, had eclipsed all her other thoughts.

The one person she had been doing all of this for had now become a tragic afterthought to Amelia's new and comfortable life.

"What is becoming of me..."

Amelia swept over to her vanity. This time, with the letter in hand, she stepped onto the balcony, the cool breeze a balm against her skin. For a moment, she simply reveled in the chilly night air. A refreshing peace to her every concern.

Then, carefully, she unsealed the envelope and unfolded the letter, turning her back to the moon to read it better.

My dearest Amelia,

I write in haste, praying this message reaches you in time.

The opening line sent a chill through her.

The rest of the letter was speckled with stains of dried tears. Amelia's heart began to pound in her ears and she kept on reading with trembling fingers, horror swarming her stomach like a host of worms. Dorothy's message was dark, devoid of its usual warmth.

I shall write as much as I can fit on this paper and no more. The Earl has discovered our letters. His wrath was merciless. My body aches as I write these words, but my fear for your life is greater. He has forbidden me to write. I cannot defy him openly anymore.

We are to move. The location is unknown. He claims it is because he is severing ties with the Largely Docks, but I suspect it is to keep us isolated now that he has learned of the letters. The move is imminent. Plans are already underway. We could depart any day, any moment. You must cancel your visit. It is no longer safe.

If any letter arrives from you after this, claiming circumstances have changed or that I am out of harm's way, ignore it. It may be a ploy from him to reach you. Stay close to Uncle and Aunt Egerton in the meantime as I do not know what he intends on doing now that he has learned of the truth.

He no longer trusts the staff. Nor my maid. She leaves tomorrow, under his watchful gaze. She promised to carry this letter, risking much. For us, she is a fleeting ally. So please, do not write back. It may lead him to you.

Live your life, Amelia. I beg of you, find happiness amidst this turmoil. I will endure as I have over the last years.

But mostly, dear sister. Remember me as I was, not as I am.

Amelia's eyes filled with tears as she read Dorothy's last words, squeezed in at the bottom of the paper.

Be well, Amelia. Survive. For both our sakes.

Despair draped over her shoulders like a heavy cloak. And it weakened her legs as she fell to a hunch. The finality in Dorothy's words invoked a different kind of chill through her bones. This couldn't be the end, no, she could not accept that. There might have been at most a week remaining before she could gain access to her inheritance, but at this rate, it might be too late to save her sister.

Bile crept up her throat. "Oh God, what have I done."

She was going to purge last evening's contents. There was no telling what the Earl of Talley would do if Amelia did not heed her sister's words and sent a letter anyway. She could not risk putting Dorothy in any more danger.

Except, her sister was already in danger. The peril Dorothy faced gnawed at Amelia's conscience. How could she sit by and do nothing? Say nothing? She felt powerless again, just as she had done as a little girl, a silent witness to her family's unraveling.

No. Not anymore.

Drawing a quivering breath, Amelia dragged herself to a stand, drying her tears. Despair was not an option. Despite Dorothy's pleas, Amelia could not sit by and do nothing. She hadn't come this far to give up at the final stretch.

Even if it might mean leaving Gideon and her newfound happiness behind.

The thought was enough to tear through her all over again. She couldn't. Now that she understood her heart, now that she was learning what she felt for him, Amelia didn't think she possessed the strength to walk away from him. Abandoning her husband and annulling the marriage had seemed so perfect a strategy just a short while ago. But now the very thought felt as if a hand was reaching into her chest and crushing her heart in its visceral grip. She couldn't breathe.

She loved Gideon. Amelia didn't know when she had come to realize it but there was no denying it now. Her husband, once a means to an end, had rooted himself firmly in her heart. His anguish had become her own; his joy had become her own.

Amelia didn't know if she could bring herself to leave. She didn't want to.

Perhaps he thinks the same. Despite the tension between us now, surely he feels some way for me, even if it is not love?

She didn't know what he felt for her but right now, it mattered little. Her choices were scant. Come morning, she would sit him down and lay bare her predicament, in hopes that he would do what he could to help her and her sister. If his heart held even a fragment of care for her, Amelia prayed that he would. And if he did not, well… she shuddered to consider what she might do. She couldn't wait another week to annul the marriage and wait some while longer to receive her inheritance before she made her move. It would be too late and she might never see her sister again.

…But there was another thought that niggled at the back of her mind. How would he react if he learned the truth of her family? If he was so intent on ruining her father, there must have been a good reason. And she had not yet discovered it. What if her father had committed an unforgivable sin toward him? Would he throw her out if he learned the truth? Worse, would he try to ruin her and her sister as well?

It was best not to think on that for now, however likely the scenario might remain.

Amelia gazed sorrowfully at the letter in her hand, then returned to her chambers to leave it on the vanity. There was no hope of sleep tonight. There was simply too much on her mind, her heart was being besieged by anxiety.

A nightcap might help, she thought.

She made for her dressing gown. With only a candle to guide her, she exited her bedchamber, heading in the vague direction of the kitchen, perhaps for a glass of warm milk. Or perhaps she should seek solace in the bottle. Would that help her sleep? It seemed anything would do presently.

As she passed the parlor, however, a loud crash halted her steps. Amelia froze, her mind instantly rushing back to the last time she'd heard such a sound in the dead of night. This time, she hardly hesitated before she headed inside, eyes scanning the room expectantly for Gideon.

Unlike last time, he was sprawled over a chaise with one leg propped up and an arm thrown over his face. Amelia quickly closed the door behind her, setting her candle down on a side table. He was oblivious to her approach. There was a large empty decanter on the floor, which had likely been the source of the noise. It seemed he had beaten her to that idea.

Amelia watched him briefly, his sleeves rolled up to his elbow and his dark hair curtaining his face. Bending down, she retrieved the decanter. "Did you drink the entire thing tonight?" she asked softly.

Gideon lifted his arm from his eyes, peeking up at her. At the sight of her, he let out a sigh. "Marvelous," he slurred. "Now, I'm imagining things too."

"You are not imagining anything, Gideon," she said calmly. After the range of distressing emotions that had assaulted her in her chambers, Amelia would allow nothing more than calmness right now. "Come, let us get you to your chambers. It wouldn't do to sleep here."

He didn't respond, so she sighed and set the decanter back down. She reached for his hand, hoping to guide him to a stand. But suddenly, he pulled her into his chest, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Gideon didn't give her a chance to process what was happening when he wrapped both arms tightly around her waist, not allowing her to move.

"I don't want you to annul the marriage," he murmured into her hair.

The room slammed back into immediate focus. Suddenly, Amelia's heart began drumming in her ears. How did he know about her plan? She'd never breathed it aloud to a soul before.

Before she had the chance to think of a response, he continued, "It was ‘pposed to be simple. Just make you uncomfortable… with the thought of being married… that you begged for annulment. Even dug into your past. That's so absurd…"

He chuckled, then took in a deep breath. "For an illusion, you smell delicious."

She almost wanted to correct him again, but instead, she held her tongue, curious to hear more. "What did you learn about me?" she whispered.

"Nothin' ‘mportant," he exhaled wearily. "Doesn't matter. Nothing does. How can I let you annul… when thinking of separating from you brings my heart unbearable torment."

Her heart began to race for an entirely different reason this time. But Gideon seemed too engrossed in burying his face into her hair., oblivious to it all. She could feel his breath on her neck as he shuffled his face a little, almost using her hair as a pillow now.

"Before you… everything was just right… My life, my name, my plans. Had it all in hand, and the endgame… revenge, it was so close. I am so close…" He exhaled heavily, tickling her neck, but she did not dare disturb his confession. "We can be happy. Man and wife. He won't haunt me anymore…"

" He ?"

"My brother. My dear, dear brother." Gideon's embrace grew even more firm, and then he let out a sound that she'd never thought she'd hear, a sound that shattered her into a million pieces. A sob. "Those devils. He did nothing to them. Just a child… so young to leave. But those men, those serpents… they ruined everything…"

"Where is he?"

"Dead." The word struck Amelia to her core. "If… wasn't for them… Jasper'd still be here. Maybe sick, but I could have saved him…"

Amelia couldn't fathom a response. Her own tears gathered at the thought that he might be crying, vulnerable, and it was wounding her soul. The agony in his voice was heart-wrenching. Who were these horrible men that had inflicted such pain on Gideon's family?

As if he heard her question, Gideon went on, "Those serpents. Georgely, Scranton, Wilshire, Whitehill, Mooreville, Marlowe, Appleby."

Amelia went deathly still. Surely, she'd heard wrong. Surely her father's name hadn't been listed as one of the evil men who had ruined Gideon's family and brought about his brother's death?

He took a deep, ragged breath, his exhalation heavy with the scent of alcohol. "They preyed on Father… knew he was soft. In over his head. Thought his skill with cards could make up for his light pockets. Thought he could save us, save Jasper. I warned him. But he didn't listen…" His words started to fade, slurred, heavy with sleep. "…they took everything we had… left us with nothing. Jasper paid for his sins."

"He's just a memory now. Father's just a memory now," he slurred, the words slow and laden with weariness. "The hatred for those devils… the Masked Rogue… will not forgive."

The dots were connecting far too slowly in Amelia's mind, sluggish from the horror that consumed her. The mere thought that her father had been instrumental in causing Gideon such pain, that Gideon's brother did not stand a chance at survival because her father had helped to take that away, was suffocating her. Her father's actions birthed the Masked Rogue. Inadvertently spawned the monster she had scorned most of her life…

It dawned on her, the ruin of her family was not merely misfortune but retribution. And she couldn't find it in her heart to blame him at all. While she and her family had lived comfortably, while her father had continued on with his life after what he'd done, Gideon and his family had suffered. She couldn't hold back the wave of guilt as she considered how her life of ease was built on the ruins of Gideon's.

"Stop," she whispered through her tears. "We should get you to your chamber."

"You're so warm..." His grasp was gentle, yet when she nudged them both upright, he offered no resistance. "Thank you for gracing my dreams, wife."

"Thank you for letting me," she whispered back. Hoisting his arm over her shoulders, she helped him up. Gideon's weight bore down on her as they stood. He leaned into her, as if he desired to be closer to her rather than needing help to walk.

She managed to shuffle him out of the parlor, praying silently he wouldn't confess any more tonight. Her heart felt too fragile. She wasn't sure how much more she could take. The night's revelations had already spun her emotions into disarray; she feared what would happen if she learned anything else.

Thankfully, he remained silent—drifting in and out of sleep as they reached his bedchamber. Amelia forced the door open with her shoulder and led him over to the bed, where her strength gave way and he collapsed over her in a heap.

For a moment, Amelia could only watch him, catching her breath. He was already deep in slumber. Would he remember all he had confessed come morning? A cowardly part of her wished that he wouldn't, that she, too, would be able to forget everything she'd learned and revert to her blissful unawareness.

Yet, as she lingered, the urge to remain beside him grew. Had they ever shared the same bedchamber, or even slept together for an entire night before? It would do no harm if she erased all of her woes for the night and pretended they were a loving, married couple, even for some hours, would it? After today, she would never get the chance.

She resisted those thoughts, finally wriggling herself out from underneath his heavy body. Time was ticking. There was only one sure truth now, she and her sister were all alone in this world. And no one could help them apart from each other.

Steeling her resolve, she turned away from the man she had come to love, leaving him to his dreams, and herself to a very real nightmare.