Page 30 of Black Widow

Gideon shrugged. “Some miscreant youths having a lark. I wouldn’t be surprised if a wager wasinvolved.”

“A wager and a considerable amount of alcohol, I suspect,” Westcliff scoffed. “They must have guessed that with so many guests, they could slip in and out and stage this scene with little chance of getting caught. It was a crime of opportunity. In a way, it’s a relief. I would hate to think someone was intentionally targeting a femaleguest.”

Though it was his suggestion, Gideon couldn’t let Westcliff blindly accept that this was the act of young men bent on mischief. “I wouldn’t let my guard down if I were you. Post men around the house for the next few weeks. Whether a bet was involved or not—breaking into the house was a step toofar.”

“Agreed. What are young people coming to?” Westcliff shook his head and thanked him for his advice. With an air of exhausted resignation, he went back inside thehouse.

Gideon bent down once more, measuring the length of the boot print with his hands before dismissing them once more. The miscreant who created these had miscalculated when he made them unrealisticallylarge.

His conscience pricked him at the thought of leaving. By rights, he should have stayed behind to help Westcliff find the fools responsible for this business. But the women they had almost victimized was no longerhere.

Amelia could have been hurt, or worse. Regardless of what he’d learned last night, she didn’t deserve to beterrorized.

Yet she deserves tohang?

Stop it. He hadn’t proved her guilty one way or the other. And he wasn’t going to discover the answer here in thecountry.

Gideon was on the road a few minuteslater.

Amelia threwa pair of shoes in a trunk with a thump, silently cursing Gideon’s name. Not only had he insulted her character, but he had tried to terrify her at Westcliffmanor.

Except it hadn’t achieved his desired result. Amelia wasn’t afraid or ashamed. She wasfurious.

Strangely enough, Crispin had defended him when he had dropped her at hertownhouse.

“He must have been intoxicated,” he said. “Luckily for everyone involved, the earl must have regained his senses and taken himself off before anyone spotted him knocking at yourdoor.”

Crispin had gone on to imply that Gideon had experienced some sort of upset at the billiards game, but wouldn’t elaborate on what itwas.

She had nodded in agreement, but Amelia no longer cared about what Gideon was thinking or even the threat of scandal. The incident at Westcliff’s had given her the final push she needed. She was leaving London and the hypocrisy of the tonbehind.

The war with Napoleon made travel to Italy impossible, but that didn’t mean she had to subject herself to the scorn of society any longer—and Gideon couldhang.

Amelia was goinghome.

She was still supervising the packing of her trunk when a great commotion sounded belowstairs.

“Carlotta, go see what is happening,” she said, rising from hersettee.

Her maid returned less than a minutelater.

“The Earl of Flint is downstairs. He insists on seeing you immediately,” Carlotta said inItalian.

Of all the… How dare that man show his facehere!

Amelia had had enough. It was bad enough she was forced to endure the slings and barbs of society. She would not endure that sort of treatment from Gideon.Or worse, she thought, remembering he had tried to knock her door down in a drunkenfit.

You have nothing to fear, she told herself bracingly.It was only thedrink.

She had seen firsthand how spirits could affect an otherwise gentle and reasonable man. Gideon may have shown his true colors at the Westcliff estate, but he would never harm her when he was sober. She knew him well enough to believe that atleast.

Carlotta shifted uncertainly. “Shall I send him away,signora?”

“No.” Amelia’s decision was made. “I will see him. Put him in theparlor.”

“You do not want helpdressing?”

“No,” she said, putting on a thick robe over her nightshift. If Gideon was going to be offended at seeing her in her nightclothes, then he shouldn’t have come calling at thishour.

---