He knew that with absolute certainty in both his heart and his mind. In the park clearing, he realized that Amy was coming to understand it as well. There was no future for them, only ruin. Much as he longed to reclaim his place in society, he never would. He would never be a viscount. He would remain a lowly physician. Unless that changed - and it would not - there could never be anything between them. She saw it now as clearly as he did. And she was asking for one last time with him before they parted forever. He should refuse her. The other part of Gibson, however, the part that was human and tired of being punished, inadvertently anyway, for a crime he did not commit, hungered to take something he desperately wanted. Just this once. One last time. And above all else, he wanted Amy. He had from the very moment he met her, all lush and golden and lovely. She was his dream, his fantasy. And she was offering herself to him without hesitation. Still, he was not so far gone that he would simply give in to his more craven nature. She deserved better. But damn it, for once, he would follow her lead and do as he pleased. The waltz the previous night was only the prelude to his final fall away from any pretension he might have had to being a gentleman.
