Ravished

Chapter Nine

Gideon did not enjoy his clubs in the traditional way that most gentlemen did. For him they were not a refuge or a home away from home. Knowing that the moment he walked through the door six-year-old tales of ravished maidens, suicide, and mysterious death were immediately revived did not give him a fondness for club life.

Not that anyone had ever given Gideon the satisfaction of confronting him face-to-face with the accusations. He was considered far too dangerous for such an approach. There were those who well recalled the rapier duel in which he had received the scar that marred his features.

The event had happened over ten years earlier, but the witnesses were still quick to remind one and all that St. Justin had very nearly murdered his opponent, Bryce Morland, at the time.

Morland, those witnesses pointed out, had been St. Justin's friend since childhood and the duel itself had been nothing more than a sporting match between two young bloods. It had not been intended as a genuine challenge.

The devil alone knew what St. Justin might do in a real duel. He would certainly have no hesitation about killing the challenger.

Gideon recalled the events of that rapier duel with Morland all too clearly himself. It was not the blood dripping from the gaping wound on his face or the pain or the presence of witnesses that had stopped Gideon at the last moment when he recovered and managed to disarm Morland. It was Morland's cry for mercy.

He could still hear the words. For God 's sake, man, it was an accident.

In the heat of a sporting event that had turned into a real fencing duel, Gideon had not been at all certain the rapier thrust which had destroyed his face had been an accident. But everyone else was sure of it. After all, why would Morland want to kill St. Justin? There was no motive.

In the end, the damage had been done, Morland had screamed for mercy, and Gideon had known he could not kill a man in cold blood. He had removed the point of the rapier from Morland's throat and everyone had breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Three years later when the tale of Deirdre's ravishment and suicide had swept London, the tale of the duel had been revived and viewed in a dark light. The details of Randal's death were also reviewed. Questions were asked.

But the questions were always asked behind Gideon's back.

Gideon dropped into his clubs when he happened to be in Town for one reason and one reason only. They were an excellent source of information and he had a few questions he wished answered before he called on Harriet.

On his first night back in Town Gideon went up the steps and through the front door of one of the most exclusive clubs on St. James Street. He was not surprised by the ripple of interest and curiosity that went through the main room of the establishment as the members realized who had arrived.

It was always like this.

With a cool nod to a few of the older gentlemen he knew to be personal friends of his father's, Gideon took a seat near the fire. He sent for a bottle of hock and picked up a newspaper. He did not have long to wait before he was approached.

"I say, been a while since we've seen you in here, St. Justin. Rumor going round you've gotten yourself engaged. Any truth to it?"

Gideon glanced up from the paper. He recognized the portly, bald-headed gentleman as Lord Fry, a baron with estates in Hampshire. Fry was one of his father's old acquaintances from the earl's fossil-collecting days.

"Good evening, sir." Gideon kept his tone even but polite. "You may rest assured the rumor concerning my engagement is true. The notices will appear in tomorrow morning's papers."

"I say." Fry scowled belligerently. "So it's true, then?"

Gideon smiled coldly. "I've just said it was true."

"I say. Well, then. So it is. Rather afraid it might be." Fry looked grim. "Miss Pomeroy seemed awfully sure of it, but one never knows, when there's not been an actual announcement, you know. Her family is keeping mum."

"Sit down, Fry. Have a glass of hock."

Fry dropped down into the leather-upholstered chair across from Gideon. He took out a large white handkerchief and wiped his brow. "I say. Rather warm this close to the fire isn't it? Usually don't sit quite so close, myself."

Gideon set aside his newspaper and fixed the stout baron with a deliberate gaze. "I take it you are acquainted with my fiancée?"

"Yes, indeed." Fry looked suddenly hopeM. "If it's Miss Harriet Pomeroy we're discussing, I've indeed had the pleasure. Recently joined the Fossils and Antiquities Society."

"That explains it." Gideon relaxed slightly. "You may rest assured it is the same Harriet Pomeroy."

"I say. Pity." Fry wiped his brow again. "Poor girl," he muttered almost inaudibly.

Gideon narrowed his eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

"Eh? Oh, nothing, nothing. I say. Lovely young lady. Very bright. Very bright, indeed. A bit wrong-headed on some matters, of course. Has some rather odd notions about strata and fossils and the general principles of geology, but otherwise quite bright."

"Yes, she is."

Fry gave Gideon a speculative glance. "Her sister is making quite a splash this Season."

"Is she?" Gideon poured a glass of hock for Fry.

"Yes, indeed. Beautiful girl. Respectable portion. World's at her feet, of course." Fry took a large swallow from the glass. "I say. A few of us in the Society had a bit of trouble with the notion that our Miss Harriet Pomeroy was engaged to you, however."

"Why did that disturb you, Fry?" Gideon asked very softly.

"Well, I say. She don't seem the type, if you know what I mean."

"No. I do not know what you mean. Why don't you explain yourself?"

Fry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Such an intelligent young woman."

"You think an intelligent young woman would have had more sense than to get herself engaged to me?" Gideon prompted, softening his voice further still.

"No, no. Meant nothing of the kind." Fry took another deep swallow of the hock. "Just that she's got such a keen interest in fossils and geology and that sort of thing. Would have thought that if she were going to get herself married, she'd have chosen a man who shared her interests. No offense, sir."

"It takes a great deal to offend me, Fry. But you are welcome to try, if you like."

Fry turned red. "Yes, well. She says she's been brought to Town in order to get herself polished for you."

"So I hear."

"I say." Fry gave him a belligerent look. "Far as I'm concerned, Miss Pomeroy don't need no polishing. Perfectly nice just as she is."

"On that we agree, Fry."

Fry looked disconcerted by that. He floundered about for another topic. "Well, then. I say. How's your father?"

"As well as can be expected."

"Good. Good. Glad to hear it." Fry plowed on gamely. "He had quite an interest in fossils at one time. Hardcastle and I had many a discussion on the subject of marine antiquities. They were a particular specialty of his, as I recall. Shells and fossil fish and the like. Does he still collect?"

"No. He lost interest a few years ago." Right after he left Upper Biddleton, Gideon reflected silently. His father had shown no enthusiasm for anything since the events of six years ago. Not even for his own estates. All the earl cared about now was gaining a grandson.

"I say. Pity. Quite a good collector at one time." Fry jerked himself to his feet. "Well, then. Must be off."

Gideon's brows rose. "Are you not going to congratulate me on my engagement, Fry?"

"What?" Fry picked up his glass and downed the last of the hock. "Yes, yes. Congratulations." He glowered at Gideon. "But I still say the lady don't need any polishing, if you ask me."

Gideon watched thoughtfully as Fry took himself off. One of the questions he'd come here with tonight had just been answered. Harriet was making no secret of her engagement.

Gideon felt a rush of deep satisfaction. The lady was apparently not in the least concerned that she might be ravished and abandoned by the notorious Beast of Blackthorne Hall. She fully expected to be married to him.

To judge by Fry's reaction, however, others were clearly far less sanguine about Harriet's fate. When Gideon paused to peruse the club's betting book he saw several entries on the subject of his engagement. They were all very much along the lines of the most recent one at the bottom of the page.

Lord R wagers Lord T that a certain young lady will find herself unengaged to a certain monster within a fortnight.

Harriet was involved in an intense discussion of the nature of igneous rocks with several other members of the Fossils and Antiquities Society when the news that Gideon was in Town hit the ballroom.

Effie appeared at Harriet's side shortly thereafter, looking extremely concerned. Harriet's first thought was that something had happened to Felicity or Aunt Adelaide.

"I would like a word with you, if you don't mind, Harriet," Effie murmured discreetly as she smiled graciously at the small crowd gathered around her niece.

"Of course, Aunt Effie." Harriet excused herself from the conversation. "Is anything wrong?"

"St. Justin is in Town. I just got word."

"Oh, good," Harriet said, her heart soaring, even though she told herself not to get her hopes too high. Gideon was hardly likely to discover he had fallen in love with her during their short separation. "That must mean his father is feeling better."

Effie sighed. "You are so naive, my dear. You just don't seem to understand the potential for disaster that we now face. Come along. Your friends from the Fossils and Antiquities Society can wait. We must consult with Adelaide."

"Aunt Effie, I was right in the middle of a most interesting conversation concerning the significance of molten rock. Cannot this consultation wait?"

"No, it cannot." Effie led the way toward where her sister stood. "Your entire future is at stake and we must be prepared for the worst possible situation. We are walking a tightrope here, Harriet."

"Really, Aunt Effie. You exaggerate." But Harriet allowed herself to be dragged to Adelaide's side. Better to get the consultation over and done so that she could return to her new friends as speedily as possible.

Effie's sister, Adelaide, Lady Buxton, was an imposing figure of a woman. Unkind people were inclined to call her fat. Effie had explained to Harriet and Felicity that much of Adelaide's size was directly attributable to the fact that she had consoled herself with sweets during her long, unhappy marriage.

Since Adelaide had emerged from the minimal mourning period she had observed on the recent death of her husband, she had started to lose weight quite rapidly. Tonight she appeared very striking in a vivid purple gown. She watched impatiently as Effie and Harriet approached.

"You have gotten the word, Harriet?" Adelaide spoke in a low tone while giving a charming smile to a lady in a green turban who had nodded in recognition.

"I understand my fiancé is in Town," Harriet admitted.

"That is just it, my dear. We cannot be certain he is still your fiancé, if you know what I mean. After all, there has been no official announcement. Not a word in the papers. As he has not chosen to announce the engagement publicly, we cannot know his intentions."

Harriet glanced wistfully at the group of fossil enthusiasts who were waiting for her. She wanted to return to the fascinating conversation as quickly as possible. All this fretting about her engagement to Gideon was beginning to annoy her. Effie and Adelaide had worried about it constantly ever since Effie, Felicity, and Harriet had arrived in Town several days ago.

"I am certain there will be an announcement in good time, Aunt Adelaide. St. Justin has had a great deal to handle lately, what with capturing thieves and worrying about his ailing father. He probably has not had an opportunity yet to send the notices off to the papers."

Effie gave her a pitying glance. "It defeats me how you can possibly have so much faith in a man who has treated you abominably."

Harriet lost her patience entirely at that. "St. Justin has not treated me abominably. How can you say that? The man is marrying me because of what happened in that cave."

"Harriet, please." Aunt Effie glanced around uneasily. "Keep your voice down."

Harriet ignored her. "It was not his fault he got caught in there with me. He came in after me in order to rescue me and the poor man got trapped in there."

"For heaven's sake, Harriet, do hush." Adelaide waved her fan in agitation. "I do not know what we shall do if anyone happens to overhear you or gets wind of the fact that you were compromised. Thus far we have been successful in concealing the facts of the matter. Creating an aura of mystery around you, as it were. The least you can do is not announce it to all and sundry."

"What difference would it make? St. Justin is going to marry me. That will make everything all right in Society's eyes."

Effie and Adelaide exchanged a grim look. Then Effie sighed. "None of us can relax until we know for certain St. Justin is going to do the right thing."

"Rubbish." Harriet smiled at her worried aunts. "Of course St. Justin will do the right thing. Now, if you will excuse me, I really must return to my friends."

Adelaide shook her head. "You and your fossils. Run along, my dear. Just remember to be cautious in this matter of your engagement."

"Yes, Aunt Adelaide," Harriet said dutifully. Then she plunged into the throng, intent on returning to the small group she had just left.

She was halfway toward her goal when someone stepped into her path. Harriet recognized Bryce Morland at once. He had been appearing at the same balls and soirees as she and Felicity during the past week. He had danced with both of them, but lately, much to everyone's astonishment, he had begun to show a strong preference for Harriet.

Harriet knew she should be flattered by Morland's attentions. He was, after all, a strikingly handsome man. Lean and graceful with fine, almost delicate hands, Bryce was a widower in his mid-thirties. He had carefully chiseled, curiously ascetic features, pale, golden hair and gray-blue eyes.

All in all, Harriet had decided, Bryce could have served as a model for a painting of an archangel.

"Miss Pomeroy." Bryce smiled. "I have been searching the room for you. I pray you will grant me the next dance?"

Harriet stifled a small sigh. Bryce had been very gallant to both her and Felicity at their first few balls. He had made certain they both danced and he had provided introductions to other partners. Effie and Adelaide had been extremely grateful to him. Harriet knew it would be unconscionably rude to refuse him the occasional dance. She supposed she could wait a few more minutes to return to the discussion of igneous rocks.

"Thank you, Mr. Morland." Harriet summoned up a smile as she allowed him to lead her out onto the crowded floor. "Very kind of you to come looking for me."

"Not at all." Bryce swept her into a waltz. "I was doing myself the favor. The night would not be complete if I did not dance with you at least once. You are ravishing in that gown. Utterly irresistible."

Harriet blushed, still not accustomed to the flowery talk of the dance floor. She knew she was looking her best because Effie and Adelaide had seen to it. The silk of her turquoise ball gown had been chosen to match her eyes. The high-waisted bodice had been cut quite low, much lower than anything she had ever worn before, and she had to resist the temptation to keep yanking it upward. Unfortunately, no one had been able to do much with her hair. It formed a very unfashionable, slightly frizzy halo around her head.

"Really, Mr. Morland, I am very flattered, but you probably ought not to say things like that," Harriet said primly.

"Because you are said to be engaged to St. Justin? I choose to ignore that."

"I am not said to be engaged, I am engaged. And it is hardly something one can ignore, Mr. Morland."

"I still cannot bring myself to believe that you have irrevocably tied yourself to the Beast of Blackthorne Hall," Bryce said grimly.

Harriet stumbled, shocked to hear the epithet spoken aloud here in London. She knew it was whispered behind her back, but it was the first time anyone had referred to Gideon in such terms in her presence.

A rush of anger brought Harriet to a halt right in the middle of the dance floor, forcing Morland to stop also. Several heads turned in curiosity. Harriet ignored them as she fixed Morland with an icy glare.

"You will not refer to my fiancé in those terms again. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Mr. Morland?"

Bryce lowered his golden lashes, half concealing his pale eyes. "Forgive me, Miss Pomeroy. My concern for you got the better of me."

"You need not be concerned on my behalf, sir. Anything you may have heard about my fiancé is no more than idle gossip."

"Unfortunately, I fear that is not the case. I am well acquainted with St. Justin, Miss Pomeroy."

Harriet gazed at him in startled surprise. "You are?"

"Oh, yes. He and I were friends at one time."

"Friends?"

"Yes. We grew up together in Upper Biddleton. I stood by him at the time of his fiancée's death. In fact I am the only one who did so. Not that I approved of what he did, you understand. But he was my friend and I do not turn my back on my friends, no matter what they have done. I would still be his friend today, but St. Justin has chosen to ignore me along with everyone else in the Polite World."

Harriet frowned. "I did not know that, sir."

Bryce took her back into his arms and resumed dancing. Harriet did not resist. She was very curious now. This was the first person she had met in either Upper Biddleton or London who claimed to be a friend of Gideon's.

"You say you knew St. Justin several years ago?"

"Yes." Bryce smiled his angelic smile, eyes mirroring an old regret. "We did everything together at one time. I do not mind telling you we enjoyed ourselves for several Seasons. There were nights when we gambled until dawn and went straight on to a racing meet or a boxing match without bothering to go home to bed. There was nothing we would not try at least once. Then Deirdre Rushton came to town for her Season. And everything changed."

Harriet bit her lip. "Perhaps we should not discuss this further, sir."

Bryce smiled with understanding. "God knows I have wished often enough that I could forget what happened that Season. Sometimes I think back to the events, wondering if there was something I could have done to avert the tragedy."

"You must not blame yourself, Mr. Morland," Harriet said quickly.

"But I was Gideon's best friend," Bryce said. "I knew him better than anyone else. I realized he was reckless and determined to have his own way. And I knew Deirdre was as innocent as she was beautiful. Gideon saw her and wanted her at once."

Harriet frowned. "They were both from Upper Biddleton. They must have known each other before Deirdre Rushton had her Season."

"Although they lived in the same village, they had not really spent much time in each other's company," Bryce explained. "I had not seen much of her, either. Deirdre was, after all, still in the schoolroom until her father managed a Season for her. And Gideon was older, of course. He was off to school and then to London while Deirdre was growing into womanhood."

"I have heard she was very lovely," Harriet said quietly.

"She was. And I will tell you quite truthfully that she was not in love with Gideon. How could she have fallen in love with him?"

"Very easily, I should imagine," Harriet retorted.

"Nonsense. She was a beautiful creature who was naturally attracted to beauty in others. She once confided to me that she found it almost impossible to look at Gideon's scarred face. It was all she could do to dance with him when he demanded it."

"What fustian," Harriet snapped. "There is nothing offensive about St. Justin's face. And he dances wonderfully."

Bryce smiled. "You are very generous, my dear. But the truth is, most people find it quite difficult to look at him. He has had the scar for over ten years, you know."

"No, I did not know."

"He got it during a rapier duel."

Harriet's eyes widened. "I had not realized."

"I am one of the few people who know the full story. I told you I was his best friend at the time."

Harriet tilted her head thoughtfully to one side. "If Deirdre Rushton was so put off by the sight of Gideon—I mean, St. Justin—why did she agree to become engaged to him?"

'"For the usual reasons," Bryce said calmly. "Her father insisted. Deirdre was an obedient daughter and the Reverend Rushton was very anxious for her to marry into such a well-connected family. Had a fancy to see his daughter married to the son of an earl. When Gideon offered marriage, Rushton virtually forced her to accept. It was no secret at the time."

Harriet remembered what Mrs. Stone had said. Apparently everyone had come to the same conclusion about the reasons behind the engagement. "How awful for Gideon," Harriet whispered.

Bryce's eyes warmed with old sorrow. "Perhaps that was why he did what he did."

"What are you talking about?"

"Miss Pomeroy, it is difficult for me to say this, but perhaps you should be on your guard. You have no doubt heard the accusation that St. Justin ravished Deirdre Rush-ton while they were engaged?"

"And abandoned her. Yes, I have heard it and I do not believe it."

Bryce's expression was solemn. "It grieves me to point this out to you, but you must be realistic. It is a certainty that Deirdre was taken by force. I can tell you that she would never have given herself to Gideon willingly until it was absolutely necessary. That would have been on her wedding night and not before."

"I refuse to believe that St. Justin forced himself on his fiancée." Harriet was appalled. Once again she came to a halt on the dance floor. She pulled herself free from Bryce's grasp. "That is nothing short of a lie and you, sir, should not repeat it to a soul. I will not listen to any more of this."

She whirled around and stalked off the floor without waiting for Bryce to escort her. A murmur of intrigued and amused voices followed her. She ignored them as she made her way back to the group of fossil enthusiasts.

Her new friends greeted her warmly and welcomed her quickly back into the conversation. What a relief, Harriet thought, to find herself among people who had something more important to discuss than old gossip.

Oliver, Lord Applegate, an earnest young baron who was three years older than Harriet, smiled at her with undisguised admiration. He had only recently come into his title and at times his efforts to live up to his new role in life caused him to be a bit pompous. But other than that, he was really quite pleasant and Harriet liked him.

"Ah, there you are, Miss Pomeroy." Applegate moved at once to her side. He held out a glass of lemonade he had procured for her. "You are just in time to help me crush Lady Youngstreet's arguments. She is trying to convince us all that the deposits of polished blocks of stone and masses of rubble one finds in the foothills of the alpine regions are evidence of the Great Flood."

"Quite right," Lady Youngstreet declared forcefully. A large, imposing woman of a certain age, she was a very active collector. She had actually spent some time hunting fossils on the Continent after the war with Napoleon had ended. She never hesitated to remind the other members of that singular fact. "What else, pray tell, except water, great quantities of water, could have moved huge stones and tumbled them about in such an extraordinary fashion?"

Harriet frowned with deep consideration. "I once discussed this point with my father. He mentioned several other possible causes of such gigantic disruption in the earth. There are volcanoes and earthquakes, for example. Even…" she hesitated. "Even ice might have done it."

The others stared at her in astonishment.

"Ice?" Lady Youngstreet asked, looking suddenly intrigued. "You mean huge slabs of ice such as glaciers?"

"Well, if the glaciers in the mountains were much larger at one time than they are now," Harriet began carefully, "they might have covered that area. Then they melted and left behind the stones and rubble they had picked up along the way."

"Utterly ridiculous," Lord Fry boomed, coming up to join the group. "What nonsense to imagine a sheet of ice covering so much terrain on the Continent."

Lady Youngstreet smiled at Fry fondly. It was no secret they were paramours. "Quite right, my dear. These young people are always seeking new explanations for what can be answered perfectly well with the old tried and true answers. Did you bring me another glass of champagne?"

"Certainly, my dear. How could I forget?" Fry handed her the glass with a gallant bow.

"Actually," Harriet said, still thinking carefully, "the problem with the theory of the Great Deluge is that it is difficult to see how the floodwaters could have covered all of the earth at once. Where would they go when they retreated?"

"An excellent point," Applegate said with the usual enthusiasm he displayed for Harriet's ideas. "Volcanoes and earthquakes and the like make much more sense. They account for finding marine fossils at the tops of mountains and," he added with a sly smile, "they account for igneous rocks."

Harriet nodded seriously. "Such uplifting forces obviously counter the effects of erosion and explain why the earth is not one flat, featureless landscape. However, this business of finding fossils of animals that are very ancient is not easily explained. Why are there no living examples of these animals, I ask you?"

"Because they were all destroyed in the Great Flood," Lady Youngstreet declared. "Perfectly obvious. Drowned. Every last one of 'em, poor beggars." She swallowed the entire contents of her champagne glass.

"Well," said Harriet, "I'm still not certain—" She broke off abruptly as she realized that no one in the group was paying any attention to her.

Belatedly she realized that a murmur was going through the crowd. All heads were turning toward the elegant staircase at the far end of the ballroom. Harriet followed the glances.

Gideon was poised at the top of the steps, surveying the throng with a disdainful glance. He was dressed in stark black. His white cravat and shirt only served to emphasize the darkness of his evening clothes.

As Harriet watched, his eyes met hers. She could not believe he had actually managed to pick her out of the crowd that jammed the ballroom.

He started down the red-carpeted steps. The coldly arrogant set of his shoulders implied he was either unaware of the expectant curiosity in the faces below him or else that he simply did not care about it.

He was here. Harriet warned herself not to get too excited about that simple fact. Gideon had been bound to show up sooner or later. It did not mean he was panting with eagerness to see her, only that he felt it was his duty to put in an appearance.

The whispered comments followed Gideon through the room like a wave racing toward some distant shore. As he moved forward the crowd parted as if it were a sea. He strode through the glittering throng without looking either to the right or left. He greeted no one. He simply kept moving until he reached Harriet.

"Good evening, my dear," he said quietly amid a hushed silence. He bowed over her hand. "I trust you saved me a dance?"

"Of course, my lord." Harriet smiled widely in welcome. She put her fingers on his arm. "But first, do you know my friends?"

Gideon glanced around at the ring effaces behind her. "Some of them."

"Allow me to introduce the rest." Harriet ran through the introductions quickly.

"So it is true, then," Lady Youngstreet demanded with a disapproving expression. "The two of you are engaged?"

"Very true," Gideon said. "The notices will be in the morning papers." He turned to Harriet. "My fiancée has your best wishes and congratulations, I assume, Lady Youngstreet?"

Lady Youngstreet pursed her lips. "Of course."

"Certainly," Applegate muttered. He was trying hard not to stare at Gideon's scar. "Happy for you both. Naturally."

The others in the small group murmured appropriate remarks.

"Thank you," Gideon said. His eyes gleamed laconically. "I rather thought you might say that. Come, my dear. It has been a long while since we last danced."

He led Harriet out onto the floor just as the musicians struck up a waltz. Harriet tried hard to project the proper air of aloof decorum Effie and Adelaide had been teaching her for the past several days, but gave up the attempt almost immediately. The knowledge that she was back in Gideon's arms, even if only on a dance floor, was too thrilling.

She had almost forgotten just how huge he was, she thought happily. His big hand cradled her spine, his palm covering most of her lower back. His massive chest and shoulders seemed as solid as a brick wall. Harriet remembered the weight of his body on hers that night in the cavern and she shivered with remembered passion.

"I assume your father has recovered, sir?" she said as Gideon whirled her into the waltz.

"He is doing much better, thank you. The sight of me has the same effect on his constitution as an electricity machine. It is always sufficient to stimulate him back to a more healthy state," Gideon said dryly.

"Good heavens, my lord. Are you saying he was so happy to see you, he recovered?"

"Not quite. The sight of me reminds him of what will happen when he finally does depart this earth. The thought of me inheriting the earldom is usually sufficient to rally him. He has a dread of the noble Hardcastle title falling into such unworthy hands."

"Oh, dear." Harriet looked up at him with sympathy. "Are things really that bad between you and your father, my lord?"

"Yes, my dear, they are. But you need not concern yourself unduly. We will see as little of my parents as possible after our marriage. Now, if you do not mind, I would prefer to discuss something far more interesting than my relationship with my parents."

"Of course. What would you like to talk about?"

His mouth quirked as he glanced down at her low-cut gown. "Suppose you tell me about the polishing you are receiving. Are you having fun here in Town?"

"To be perfectly truthful, I did not enjoy it at all at first. Then I chanced to meet Lord Fry."

"Ah, yes."

"Well, as it turns out, he is very interested in fossils and he invited me to join the Fossils and Antiquities Society. I have enjoyed myself immensely since I began attending the meetings of the Society. Such an interesting group of people. They have been extremely kind to me."

"Have they, indeed?"

"Oh, yes. They are a very well informed group." Harriet glanced quickly to either side to make certain no one could overhear. Then she lowered her voice and leaned closer to Gideon. "I am thinking of showing my tooth to one or two members of the Society."

"I thought you were afraid that another collector might steal it or go hunting for another one just like it once he learns the location of the cave."

Harriet frowned in consternation. "It is a concern, naturally. But I am beginning to believe that a few of the members of the Society can be trusted. And thus far I have not had any success in identifying my tooth on my own. If none of the members of the Society can identify it either, then I will be more certain than ever that I have found an entirely new species. I shall write a paper on it."

Gideon's mouth curved faintly. "My sweet Harriet," he murmured. "I am delighted to see that you are still unpolished."

She scowled up at him. "I assure you I am working very hard on that project, too, sir. But I must confess it is not as entertaining or as interesting as fossil collecting."

"I can understand that."

Harriet brightened as she caught sight of her sister among the dancers. Felicity, stunning tonight in a gossamer gown of peach pink, grinned cheerfully from across the floor before being swept out of view by a handsome young lord.

"I may be obliged to work at the business of being polished," Harriet said, "but I am pleased to say that Felicity is already a gem. She is becoming quite the rage, you know. And now that she has a respectable portion from Aunt Adelaide, she need not rush into marriage. I rather suspect she will want a second Season. She is having a wonderful time. Town life suits her."

Gideon looked down at her. "Do you regret that you are being rushed into marriage, Harriet?"

Harriet fixed her gaze on his snowy white cravat. "I comprehend, sir, that you feel obligated to go through with this marriage and that we do not have the luxury of allowing sufficient time to be absolutely certain of our feelings for each other."

"Are you telling me you do not have any feelings of affection for me?"

Harriet abruptly stopped staring at his cravat and raised her eyes in shock. She could feel the heat warming her face. "Oh, no, Gideon. I did not mean to imply that I had no feelings of affection for you."

"I am deeply relieved to hear you say so." Gideon's expression softened. "Come, the dance is ending. I will return you to your friends. I believe they are all quite concerned about you. I can see them staring at us."

"Pay them no heed, sir. They are merely feeling somewhat protective because of all the rumors that are floating about. They mean no harm."

"We shall see," Gideon murmured as he led her through the crowd to where the other members of the Fossil and Antiquities Society were gathered. "Ah. I see a newcomer has joined your little group."

Harriet glanced ahead, but she could not even see Lord Applegate or Lady Youngstreet. "Your height gives you a distinct advantage in crowds such as this, my lord."

"So it does."

The last of the crowd parted at that moment and Harriet saw the heavyset, florid-faced man who had joined her friends. There was, she realized, a very forceful, very striking element about him that was not particularly pleasant. He was large, although not as large as Gideon, but that was not what bothered her.

His intense dark eyes, which were riveted on Harriet, had a sharp, piercing quality that was unsettling. There was a bitter, angry curve to his fleshy lips. His gray hair was thinning on the top of his head but extended down his heavy cheeks in thick, curling whiskers. He reminded Harriet of one of the Evangelicals, those tireless reformers of the Church who railed constantly against everything from dancing to face powder.

The new corner did not wait for an introduction. His sharp gaze raked Harriet from head to toe and then he turned to Gideon.

"Well, sir, I see you have found another innocent lamb to lead to the slaughter."

There was a collective gasp from the small group of fossil collectors. Gideon alone appeared unperturbed.

"Allow me to introduce you to my fiancée," Gideon murmured, as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said. "Miss Pomeroy, may I present—"

The stranger interrupted him with a harsh exclamation. "How dare you, sir? Have you no shame? How dare you play your games with yet another rector's daughter? Will you get this one with child, too, before you cast her aside? Will you cause the deaths of yet another innocent woman and her babe?"

There was a collective gasp of dismay from the small group. Gideon's eyes hardened dangerously.

Harriet held up a hand. "That is quite enough," she said sharply. "I do not know who you are, sir, but I assure you I grow extremely weary of these accusations concerning his lordship's previous engagement. I should think that everyone would realize that there is only one reason why St. Justin would have called off his plans for marrying Deirdre Rushton."

The stranger swung his hot gaze back to her. "Is that so, Miss Pomeroy?" he whispered harshly. "And just what would that reason be, pray tell?"

"Why, that the poor girl was pregnant with some other man's babe, of course," Harriet said briskly. She was getting thoroughly annoyed with the malicious gossip. "Good grief, I would have thought anyone could have seen that right from the start. It is the logical explanation."

Silence gripped the onlookers. The intense stranger gave Harriet a wrathful glare that was clearly designed to dispatch her to perdition.

"If you truly believe that, Miss Pomeroy," he whispered thickly, "then I pity you. You are, indeed, a fool."

The man turned and stormed off through the throng. Everyone else with the exception of Gideon was gazing at Harriet in open-mouthed fascination.

Gideon's expression reflected an almost savage satisfaction. "Thank you, my dear," he said very softly.

Harriet frowned after the stranger's retreating figure. "Who was that gentleman?"

"The Reverend Clive Rushton," Gideon said. "Deirdre's father."