by Amanda Quick
Harriet glanced up to see an elderly man in an old-fashioned plum-colored jacket and green waistcoat lumbering across the room in her direction. Her eyes narrowed. “He’ll want to interrogate me on my recent finds, I suppose.”
“You need not chat with him, you know.”
“I might as well. If he does not manage to corner me tonight, I shall probably find him waiting for me after church on Sunday. You know how persistent he is.” Harriet smiled grimly at Mr. Venable, who smiled just as menacingly in return.
The two were old adversaries. Venable had been an avid fossil collector for years until an unfortunate accident in the caves had given him a fear of the cliff caverns.
He was obliged to limit his collecting to the beach these days and the truth was, he had made no major finds in years. That did not, however, prevent him from trying to convince Harriet that she needed him to oversee and direct her own work. Harriet was on to his tricks. Fossil hunters were a shameless lot and she was constantly on her guard around collectors such as Mr. Venable.
“Good evening, Miss Pomeroy.” Mr. Venable bent stiffly over her hand. “I wonder if I might have the pleasure of procuring you a cup of tea.”
“Thank you, sir, that would be lovely.” Harriet rose to her feet and allowed Venable to lead her over to the refreshment table, where he promptly fetched her a cup of tea.
“How have you been, my dear?” Venable’s smile was a trifle oily. “Hard at work in the caves, I presume?”
“I go into them when I have the time.” Harriet smiled blandly. “You know how it is, sir. We have a busy household and my fossil collecting opportunities are rare these days.”
Venable’s eyes glittered. He knew she was lying, of course. This was an old game they had played for some time. “Did I tell you I am thinking of contacting a colleague of mine in the Royal Society about presenting a paper on our local fossils?”
Harriet blinked warily. “No, you did not. Are you planning to present a paper to the Society, sir?”
“I’ll admit I have toyed with the notion. Very busy, of course.” Venable swallowed a small sandwich in one gulp. “One needs time for that sort of thing.”
“And a few interesting and unusual fossils,” Harriet retorted coolly. “Have you found anything of note recently?”
“One or two items.” Venable rocked on his heels and looked wise. “One or two. And you, my dear?”
Harriet smiled. “Why, nothing at all, I fear. As I said, I have so little time these days for collecting.”
Venable was clearly searching for a way to probe further when a hush fell over the room. Harriet glanced around curiously. The music had just stopped, but that did not explain the sudden stillness that gripped the crowd. She realized all eyes were directed toward the door.
“Good God,” Venable exclaimed in a startled tone. “It’s St. Justin. What the devil is he doing here?”
Harriet’s gaze flew to the entrance of the crowded room. Gideon stood there, a great predatory beast of the night that had wandered into a room full of prey.
He was dressed in stark black from his polished Hessians to his expertly tailored black jacket. Only his crisp, white cravat and white pleated shirt afforded relief from the overall impression of darkness. He swept the crowd with cold calculation.
“Haven’t seen him in years,” Venable muttered. “But I would recognize that hellacious scar anywhere. I had heard he was in the neighborhood. Damned great nerve to just drop in here tonight as if it were quite the ordinary thing.”
Harriet got angry. “It is a public gathering,” she said tartly. “And he is the largest landholder in the district. If you ask me, the local people should be proud and gratified to have him put in an appearance. Furthermore, I am astonished, sir, that you would make personal remarks about his scar. I do not find it the least offensive.”
Venable scowled. “You’re too kind, my dear. Comes of being reared as a rector’s daughter, I imagine. St. Justin’s scar is indicative of his black character.”
“Sir.” Harriet was outraged.
“Forgot you wouldn’t know the background. Just as well. The tale don’t bear repeating to a young woman.”
“Then I trust you will not repeat it,” Harriet said repressively.
“Damnation, I believe St. Justin is headed this way.” Venable drew himself up and straightened his shoulders. “Have no fear, my dear.”
“I don’t.” Harriet glanced across the room again and saw that Gideon was, indeed, making his way through the crowd to where she stood with Mr. Venable.
The musicians hurriedly struck up another tune, effectively covering up the shocked murmurs of the crowd. Several young couples, including Felicity and a farmer’s son, took to the floor.
Harriet smiled eagerly at Gideon as he made his way toward her. She could not wait to hear how he had dealt with his steward and to find out if he had contacted the Bow Street Runners yet. It was time they discussed plans for apprehending the thieves.
Gideon’s dark brows rose at the sight of her cheerful smile. He came to a halt in front of her and inclined his head politely. His eyes gleamed in the light.
“Good evening, Miss Pomeroy. You are looking in very fine form tonight.”
“Thank you, sir. It is a pleasure to see you again. I hope you are enjoying your stay in the neighborhood.”
“As much as can be expected.” Gideon glanced at Venable. “Hello, Venable. It’s been a long time.”
Venable frowned and edged closer to Harriet. “Evening, my lord. I had not realized you were acquainted with Miss Pomeroy.”
“We’ve met,” Gideon murmured. He turned his attention back to Harriet. “I wonder if I might have the pleasure of the next dance, Miss Pomeroy.”
Harriet’s eyes widened. “I am not an accomplished dancer, my lord.”
“Neither am I. I have had very little practice in the past few years.”
Harriet relaxed. “Oh, well, then, in that case, I should be delighted. Please excuse me, Mr. Venable.” She handed him her cup and saucer.
“Now, see here,” Venable sputtered as he automatically accepted the dishes. “I am not at all certain your aunt would want you dancing without her permission, Miss Pomeroy.”
“Nonsense.” Harriet snapped her fan closed and put her fingertips on Gideon’s sleeve. “My aunt will be positively thrilled to know that I managed to secure at least one dance this evening.” She looked up at Gideon through her lashes. “Shall we, sir?”
“By all means, Miss Pomeroy.” Gideon led her away from Venable.
“Where are we going?” Harriet demanded when she saw that he was drawing her toward the corner where the musicians were ensconced.
“To make a request.” Gideon halted and leaned over to speak to the man who was wielding a violin. The musician nodded violently.
“At once, my lord. Immediately.”
“Excellent. I know I may depend upon you.” Gideon straightened and took Harriet’s arm.
“Now what?” Harriet asked as he walked onto the floor.
“Now we dance, of course.”
At that moment the country dance that the musicians had been playing came to an abrupt halt. The dancers stopped in their places and gazed at each other in bemusement.
A few seconds later the violin sounded a few experimental notes and then plunged into a full-blooded waltz. The rest of the small group of instruments followed.
The young people on the floor sent up a cheer and leaped into action before anyone could countermand St. Justin’s orders. Couples swung eagerly into the previously forbidden dance. Their elders frowned sternly. All eyes went once more to Gideon.
Gideon’s gaze was on Harriet, awaiting her reaction.
Uncertainty made Harriet’s stomach tighten, but a throbbing excitement was pouring through her. She took a deep breath and stepped into Gideon’s arms. He smiled with satisfaction and whirled her across the floor.
“I did hot think you would back away from a challenge, M
iss Pomeroy,” Gideon said softly.
“Never, my lord.” Harriet laughed. “I vow, you have created quite a stir tonight. Our poor country assemblies will never be the same after this. You have single-handedly brought the waltz to Upper Biddleton.”
“I sense that in the minds of some of the good folk here tonight that is equivalent to having brought the plague to the village.”
“They’ll all survive the arrival of the waltz. And as for me, I am grateful.”
“Are you, indeed, Miss Pomeroy?”
“Oh, yes. I have been worried about Felicity not having a chance to practice her steps before she goes to London. Now she will have the opportunity to do so.”
“And what about you?” Gideon watched her closely as he spun her into a sweeping turn. “Are you glad of the chance to practice the waltz so that you will be prepared, in the event you get to London?”
“I seriously doubt that I shall dance the waltz in Town. It is Felicity who is to have a Season, not me.” Harriet smiled. “But I must say it is a very exciting dance, my lord, and you perform it very well. Of course, I am not surprised to find you are an excellent dancer. You move so soundlessly and so smoothly in every other way.”
He lowered his lashes in surprise. “Thank you. As it has been six years since I last attempted to dance, I shall take that as a great compliment.” Gideon guided her into another sweeping turn.
Harriet gave herself up to the music, deeply aware of the warmth and strength of Gideon’s hand on the small of her back. It brought back heated memories of the kiss in the cave and she knew she was blushing. She prayed that everyone, including Gideon, would attribute the heat in her face to the warmth of the room and the energetic dancing.
“I am surprised to see you here tonight, my lord,” Harriet said. She was trying to be blasé about the fact that she was actually dancing the waltz. “I would not have thought our little assembly would interest you.”
“It does not interest me. You interest me, Miss Pomeroy.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Me, my lord?”
“Yes, you.”
“Oh.” Then a thought struck her. She smiled brilliantly up at him. “Yes, of course, now I understand.”
“Do you?” He gave her a strange glance. “I am certainly glad one of us does.”
She ignored that cryptic comment as her brain finally took charge of her spinning emotions. “You no doubt want to inform me about your plans to catch the thieves. You knew it would be difficult to arrange another private meeting without causing comment, so you came here tonight in hopes of being able to speak to me under the guise of socializing.”
“I congratulate you on your logical turn of mind, Miss Pomeroy.”
“Well?” She looked up at him expectantly.
“Well, what?”
She gave a small, exasperated exclamation. “Tell me about your plans. Is everything arranged? Have you contacted the Bow Street Runners? How have you decided to handle Mr. Crane? I wish to know all the details.”
Gideon eyed her for a few seconds. Then his mouth curved in a faint smile. “I have not revealed my true intentions to Crane thus far and I have sent word to Bow Street. The arrangements for removing the thieves from your caves are under way, Miss Pomeroy. I trust you will be satisfied with my performance.”
“I am certain I shall be quite satisfied. Tell me the whole of it. What, precisely, will happen now?”
“You must leave that to me, Miss Pomeroy.”
“But I wish to know how it will all work, sir,” she said impatiently.
“You must trust me, Miss Pomeroy.”
“That is not the point, my lord.”
“I fear it is very much the point.” Gideon’s smile was unreadable. “Do you think you can manage to do that, Miss Pomeroy?”
“Do what? Trust you? Of course. I know you will do what you have promised to do. But I wish to know the details, sir. I am involved in this matter. Those are my caves, after all.”
“Your caves?”
Harriet flushed and chewed briefly on her lower lip. “Very well, perhaps they do not exactly belong to me, but I am not about to let someone such as Mr. Venable claim them, either.”
“Calm yourself, Miss Pomeroy. You have my word that you will have exclusive rights to dig up any old bones that may lie in those caves.”
She smiled tentatively. “I have your word of honor on that, my lord?”
His tawny gold eyes glittered behind his dark lashes as he studied her upturned face. “Yes, Miss Pomeroy,” Gideon said softly. “For what it’s worth, you have my word of honor.”
Harriet was delighted. “Thank you, sir. That takes a certain weight off my mind, I assure you. All the same, I really would like to know what you have planned.”
“You must possess yourself in patience, Miss Pomeroy.”
The music came to a halt with a flourish. Harriet was irritated because she wanted to argue her case further. “My lord, I believe I could be very helpful in this matter,” she said urgently. “I know those caves better than anyone else and your man from Bow Street will surely want to discuss the layout of the caverns with me.”
Gideon took her arm and interrupted her coolly. “I believe you will want to introduce me to your aunt and your sister now, Miss Pomeroy.”
“I will?”
“Yes. I think it is appropriate under the circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” Harriet saw the look of anxious expectation on Aunt Effie’s face from halfway across the room.
“We have just danced the waltz, Miss Pomeroy. People will talk.”
“Rubbish. I do not care what anyone says. You cannot possibly blacken my reputation by merely dancing once with me.”
“You would be astonished at how easily I can destroy a woman’s reputation, Miss Pomeroy. Let us undo what damage we can tonight by means of a proper introduction to your family.”
Harriet groaned. “Oh, very well. But I would really much rather discuss the plans for catching the thieves.”
Gideon smiled his brief, fleeting smile. “Yes, I imagine you would. But, as I said, you must trust me to deal with the matter.”
* * *
Harriet awoke the next morning shortly before dawn. She lay in bed for a while, reliving the events of the previous evening. Aunt Effie had been both thrilled and horrified to find herself being introduced to the notorious Viscount St. Justin.
Effie had handled the situation with admirable poise, however. She had betrayed very little of her flustered condition. Felicity had been her usual straightforward, pragmatic self. She had accepted the introduction with charming grace.
Gideon had managed to compound the effects of his outrageous behavior at the ball by leaving as soon as he had met Effie and Felicity.
The moment he disappeared into the night the entire room full of people had erupted into excited conversation. Harriet was well aware that she had been the focus of several pairs of curious eyes.
On the way home in the carriage Effie had not stopped talking about the incident.
“The local people are quite right to call him a strange and unpredictable man,” she said for the hundredth time. “Just imagine ordering up a waltz without so much as a by-your-leave and then singling you out, Harriet. Thank heaven he did not choose Felicity. She cannot afford to have her name coupled with his before she goes to London.”
“Actually,” Felicity said, “I was quite grateful to him. Now that the waltz has been introduced to Upper Biddleton we shall no doubt be able to dance it again at the next assembly. And it is all the rage in London, Aunt Effie. You told me so yourself.”
“That is beside the point,” Effie retorted. “I am convinced Mrs. Stone and the others are correct. The man is dangerous. He even looks dangerous. You are both to be extremely cautious around him, do you understand?”
Harriet yawned. “What is this, Aunt Effie? Some concern for my reputation at last? I thought you felt I was safe due to my advanced years.”
“Something tells me no woman is safe in that man’s presence,” Effie said darkly. “Mrs. Stone calls him a beast and I am not at all certain but that she may be right.”
“I felt quite safe with him,” Harriet declared. “Even when we danced the waltz.”
But she had lied to her aunt, Harriet knew. She had not felt safe at all in Gideon’s arms. Just the opposite, in fact. And she had enjoyed every dangerous thrill that had shot through her when he had whirled her about on the dance floor.
Harriet knew she was not going to go back to sleep and it was much too early for anyone else in the household to be awake. She pushed back the covers and got out of bed. She would get dressed and go downstairs to make herself a pot of tea. Mrs. Stone would probably not approve. She was a great believer in ladies maintaining their standards, but that was too bad. Harriet had no intention of waking the housekeeper at this early hour and she was quite able to prepare her own tea.
The bedchamber was chilled from the long, cold night. Harriet dressed quickly in a faded, long-sleeved wool gown and pinned a muslin cap on her springy hair.
She passed the window on her way to the door and automatically glanced out to observe the dawn light as it struck the sea. The tide was out and it would have been an excellent hour to hunt fossils. It was too bad Gideon had forbidden her to go near the caves until after the thieves were caught.
Out of the corner of her eye Harriet saw a figure on the beach below her window. She halted abruptly and leaned out to get a better look. Perhaps it was a fisherman, she reassured herself.
But a moment later the figure scuttled back into view for a few seconds and Harriet knew at once it was no fisherman. The man was wearing a coat and a rather squashed-looking, low-crowned hat pulled down over his ears. She could not see his face, but she saw at once that the man was making his way along the beach toward the entrance to her precious cave.
Harriet did not hesitate. This was an alarming occurrence and needed immediate investigation. The man below was obviously not one of the thieves. They appeared only in the middle of the night.
That left one other all too likely possibility. The man was very likely another fossil collector who was attempting to sneak into her caves.