by Amanda Quick
The distant, wavering glow from his lamp abruptly disappeared, plunging Harriet into utter darkness. She heard her pursuer’s boot steps pounding back down the corridor to the outer cavern. Crane’s fear had finally overcome his greed.
Harriet took a deep breath to steady her nerves and slowly, painstakingly began the task of moving back toward the entrance. She knew almost at once that it was probably too late. The sound of the sea in the outer cave reached her quite clearly. Harriet forced herself to stop and think.
She could swim, but she certainly did not have the kind of strength it would take to battle her way through those surging waves. She would be dashed to pieces against the rock walls of the cavern.
She did not find the thought of spending the night alone in this intense blackness any more appealing than Mr. Crane had. Harriet shivered as it dawned on her that she might be trapped for hours.
“Harriet. Harriet, are you in here? Where the devil are you?”
“Gideon.” Relief soared through her. She was not alone in this endless black pit. “Gideon, I am here. In the tunnel. I cannot see a thing. I do not have a lamp.”
“Stay where you are. I shall be there in a moment.”
She saw the wavering lamplight first. A short time later Gideon appeared, squeezing his massive shoulders around a bend in the twisting tunnel.
He was bareheaded and he had removed his greatcoat. He had the heavy garment draped around his shoulders like an untied cravat or scarf. Harriet saw that his boots and trousers were soaked and knew he had been forced to make his way through thigh-deep surf to get into the cavern. She realized he must have removed the coat in order to keep it out of the water.
He stopped when he saw her. He raised the lamp to get a better look at her. The glow cast his features into harsh relief, but Harriet thought that no one had ever looked more handsome than Gideon did in that moment. He looked so big and solid and strong. Harriet wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she managed to control herself.
“Are you all right?” Gideon asked roughly.
“Yes. Yes, I am fine.” She glanced helplessly past him. “What happened to Mr. Crane?”
“Crane took his chances with the sea. If he did not drown, Dobbs will have him. I do know that by now there is no chance for us to get out of these caverns tonight. It appears we shall be obliged to spend what is left of this night in these damn caves, Miss Pomeroy.”
“I was afraid of that. Thank heaven you have a lamp.”
“I have this one and there are the ones the thieves left behind in the cavern where they stored their goods. Come, let us get out of this bloody tunnel. It fits me more tightly than a coat cut by Weston.”
Harriet did not argue. She turned and led the way to the thieves’ cavern. Gideon followed, swearing softly in relief as he stepped into the large chamber.
“Not exactly the most pleasant of inn rooms, is it?” He hung the lamp on a metal peg that one of the thieves had driven into the cavern wall. “Service is poor and I imagine this stone floor is going to become extremely uncomfortable by morning. Remind me not to leave a tip with the management.”
Harriet bit her lip as guilt washed through her. “I know this is all my fault, my lord. I am very sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Inconvenience?” Gideon arched one brow. “You do not yet know the meaning of the word, Harriet. Tomorrow you will learn how truly inconvenient this all is.”
She frowned. “I do not understand, sir. What are you trying to say?”
“Never mind. There will be plenty of time to discuss it at a later date.” Gideon sat down on a chunk of rock and began to pry off his wet boots. “It is fortunate you have that cloak and I have a dry coat. There is a definite chill in this room.”
“Yes, there is.” Harriet huddled more deeply into her cloak and glanced around uneasily. It was beginning to sink in that she was going to be spending the night here with Gideon. She had never in her entire life spent a night in the same room with a man. “How did you find me? Did you hear my call? Or Mr. Crane’s shot?”
“Both.” One boot dropped to the stone floor. Gideon went to work on the other. “I was watching for the third man you had reported seeing. I assumed that he probably kept the watch. But I did not expect him to come down the cliff path with you.” The second boot hit the floor.
“I see.” Harriet stared at Gideon’s boots and licked her suddenly dry lips.
“I would like an explanation, if you don’t mind, Miss Pomeroy.” Gideon stood up and went to work on the fastenings of his trousers.
Harriet’s eyes widened in shock as she saw that he was going to remove the remainder of his wet garments. It was the only thing he could do under the circumstances, she told herself. He could not possibly sleep in his damp clothing. He would take a dreadful chill. Nevertheless, she had never seen an undressed man in her life. She turned her back and started speaking quickly to cover up her nervousness.
“I could not sleep,” Harriet said. “When I went to the window I saw that there were men on the beach and I realized the thieves had returned. I knew that Mr. Dobbs would signal you and the plan would be put into action. At first I was very excited. I wanted to see what was happening. Then I grew alarmed.”
“Worried about your bloody damn fossils?”
“I was worried about you,” she whispered, acutely aware of the sound of Gideon stripping off his soaked trousers.
“Me?” There was a short silence from Gideon. “Why in blazes were you worried about me?”
“Well, it is just that you have not had much experience catching thieves, my lord.” Harriet twisted her hands together under her cloak. “I mean, it is not as if it was your normal occupation. I knew the thieves would most likely be armed and probably quite dangerous and, well …” Her voice trailed off helplessly. She could hardly confess that her concern was of a far more personal nature. She was only just realizing that herself.
“I see.” Gideon’s voice was cold.
“I meant no offense, my lord. I was simply concerned for your safety.”
“What about your own safety, Miss Pomeroy?”
She braced herself against the sarcasm. “I did not think I would be in any danger there at the top of the cliffs.”
“I can barely hear you, Miss Pomeroy.”
Harriet cleared her throat. “I said I did not think I would be in any danger there at the top of the cliffs.”
“Well, you were wrong, were you not? And now you are in more danger than you could possibly have imagined.”
Harriet spun around at that soft threat. She saw with relief that Gideon had put on his greatcoat. It fell to his bare calves. He was busying himself with one of the sacks on the floor. “What are you doing, sir?”
“Preparing us a bed for the night. Unless you wish to sleep standing upright?” Gideon opened the large sack, turned it upside down, and carelessly dumped a fortune in gems and silverplate onto the floor of the cave.
“I doubt that I shall sleep at all tonight,” Harriet muttered. She watched as Gideon emptied another of the canvas sacks. “My lord, I realize that you are annoyed with me and I am sorry for it, but you must see that what has happened is entirely an accident.”
“Fate, Miss Pomeroy. I think we can probably label it fate. What has occurred this evening has all the ominous, portentous, suitably awesome weight of an act of sheer, bloody fate. Are you the philosophical type?”
“I had not thought much about philosophy. I have read some of the classics, of course, but I have always been far more interested in fossils.”
Gideon slanted her a strange glance. “Prepare yourself, Miss Pomeroy. A whole new field is about to open itself before your very eyes.”
Harriet scowled. “You are in a rather strange mood tonight, are you not, my lord?”
“You may attribute my mood to the fact that, unlike yourself, I have a healthy respect for the power of fate.” Gideon emptied the last of the sacks. He opened each one up and arranged the fina
l pile into a mattress of sorts.
Behind him the lamplight gleamed on the heap of valuables that lay on the stone floor. Gold candlesticks, ruby rings, and embossed snuffboxes glittered and sparkled in a brilliant, gleaming fire that provided no hint of warmth.
Harriet eyed the canvas sacks. “You intend to sleep there, my lord?”
“I intend for both of us to sleep here.” Gideon straightened the sacks to his satisfaction. “The canvas will protect us from some of the chill in the stone and we shall have your cloak and my coat for blankets. We will survive the night.”
“Yes, of course.” He intended her to sleep next to him. A disconcerting thrill followed by an equally unsettling shaft of fear went down Harriet’s spine. She glanced around the chamber, searching for some alternative. “A very sensible arrangement, I suppose.”
Gideon looked at her damp boots. “You had best take those off.”
She followed his gaze. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
Harriet sat down near the jumble of rocks that contained the outline of the fossil tooth she had discovered on her previous visit to the cavern. She eyed the fossil wistfully and then bent down to slowly unlace her boots.
A moment later she slipped the boots off and was mortified by her bare feet. She had not taken time to put on a pair of stockings before leaving the house. She felt herself turning pink and hoped Gideon would not notice.
“Calm yourself, Harriet. What is done, is done. There is nothing either of us can do now except try to get some rest. We will deal with the rest of it on the morrow.” Gideon’s brooding eyes seemed to soften slightly as he took in her bedraggled appearance and uncertain air. “Come here, my dear. We shall both be much warmer and far less likely to catch a chill if we share these sacks.”
Harriet stood up, toes wriggling on the cold stone. She straightened her shoulders. Gideon was quite right. This was the only sensible course of action.
Unable to meet Gideon’s eyes, she walked haltingly over to the pile of canvas sacks. She stood there at the edge of the makeshift bed, not quite certain what to do next.
Gideon lowered himself to the sacking, his greatcoat swirling around him. Then he reached up to part Harriet’s heavy cloak. He found one of her hands, clasped it firmly, and drew her gently but relentlessly down beside him.
By a great effort of will, Harriet managed to maintain what she hoped was some semblance of an outward calm. But her fingers trembled in Gideon’s massive hand and she knew he must have felt it. He was kind enough not to tease her, however, acting instead as if nothing untoward was happening.
A moment later he had her curled next to him, her cloak covering her from throat to toe, her head pillowed on the hood. She could feel the heat of his powerful body as he lay close beside her. His warmth enveloped her even through the heavy folds of his greatcoat. It was comforting. Harriet lay very still, watching the shadows thrown onto the cavern walls by the lamp.
“I really am very sorry for the inconvenience, my lord,” she murmured once again.
“Go to sleep, Harriet.”
“Yes, my lord.” She was silent for a moment. “My family will be very worried about me when they discover I am not in my bed tomorrow morning.”
“No doubt.”
“Do you suppose Mr. Dobbs will inform them that we are in the caves?”
“I am certain your family will soon hear the entire story,” Gideon said dryly.
“We shall be able to leave here quite early in the morning,” Harriet said on a note of optimism.
“Not nearly soon enough to stop the wheels of fate, Miss Pomeroy.” Gideon turned on his side so that he was curved around her. His arm went boldly around her waist. “Not nearly soon enough.”
Harriet sucked in her breath when she felt the weight of his arm. But then she realized he was only trying to provide her with added warmth. She relaxed somewhat. “This is a very odd situation, is it not, my lord?”
“Very odd. Try to sleep, Harriet.”
She closed her eyes, certain she would not sleep a wink. Then she yawned, nestled a bit closer to Gideon’s heat, and drifted off into oblivion.
When she awoke a long while later, Harriet was aware that she had grown cold. She felt Gideon’s leg stir alongside her own. Instinctively she edged closer to him, wanting his warmth to ward off the chill. Stiff from lying on her side on the hard floor, she turned onto her other side and found herself face-to-face with Gideon.
She saw at once that his eyes were open. He was watching her with a startling intensity. His gaze gleamed in the flickering shadows of the lamplight. His arm tightened around her waist.
“Gideon?” She smiled tremulously. Still dazed with sleep, she reached out to touch his scarred jaw. “Did I remember to thank you for coming to my rescue tonight?”
He was silent for a moment. And then he levered himself up on his elbow and leaned over her. “I wonder if you will still want to thank me in the morning.”
She started to assure him that she would, but there was no chance to speak. He lowered his head and covered her mouth with his own.
Harriet did not hesitate. She put her arms around him and drew him closer, loving the heat and strength in him, wanting more of it. A part of her knew she should be shocked or at the very least deeply offended. A part of her knew she should resist.
But another part of her knew that she had been waiting for Gideon to kiss her again ever since that first embrace here in the cavern.
“I believe you truly are my fate,” Gideon whispered against her mouth. “For better or worse, it seems we are to be bound together. Are you going to fight me, Harriet?”
She did not understand. “Why would I wish to fight you?”
“The local people call me the Beast of Blackthorne Hall.”
“You are no beast.” Harriet touched his face again, savoring the strong, bold lines of his jaw. “You are a man. The most fascinating man I have ever met.”
“I’ll wager you have not met all that many men.” Gideon groaned and pulled her cloak open so that he could kiss her throat.
“It makes no difference.” Harriet shivered at the feel of his mouth on her skin. “There is not another man like you in the entire world. I am certain of that. The other night at the assembly when you danced with me, I found myself hoping that the waltz would not end.”
“You enjoyed the waltz?” He brushed his mouth across hers.
“Very much.”
“I thought so. I could see your pleasure in your eyes. You are a very sensual little creature, Harriet Pomeroy. The waltz was made for you.”
“I should very much like to do it again sometime,” she said, feeling suddenly breathless.
“I will make a note of that.” Gideon peeled back a bit more of her cloak. His hooded, lambent gaze locked with hers as he put his hand on the curve of her breast. He was waiting for her reaction.
Harriet gasped at the shocking intimacy. She knew she really ought to tell him to stop. But she was nearly twenty-five years old, she reminded herself. And this was the first time she had ever known the touch of a man. It would probably be the only time she experienced it. And this was Gideon.
“Well, Harriet?” Gideon’s huge hand moved on her with tantalizing tenderness, cupping her, shaping her, stroking gently.
Harriet’s tongue touched the corner of her mouth. She could not find words to respond. Her pulse was pounding and a heavy liquid warmth was flowing somewhere deep within her. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him with a passion that seemed to explode out of nowhere.
Gideon needed no further urging. The cool restraint that had characterized his actions thus far dissolved in an instant. He swept aside her cloak and began undoing the tapes of her gown.
“Harriet. My sweet, trusting Harriet,” he whispered hoarsely against her throat as he slid the bodice down to her waist. “You have sealed your own fate tonight.”
She did not understand his cryptic words and she was too busy coping with the flood of new se
nsations coursing through her to ask him what he meant. Harriet only knew that what was happening was somehow meant to be. It was something she wanted. Something she could not avoid. Something she longed—no, needed—to experience.
She was cold where the air touched her bare skin and then she was warm again because Gideon was lying on top of her. More than warm. She was hot. Hotter than she had ever been in her life. The weight of him was incredibly arousing. All her senses responded to it.
Gideon shrugged impatiently out of his greatcoat, revealing the long, white shirt that was all he wore underneath. Dark, crisp hair curled on his broad chest. The thick mat angled downward. Harriet caught a glimpse of his taut, hard manhood and she froze.
“Gideon?”
“You must trust me,” Gideon said in a dark, husky voice that betrayed his desire as surely as his body did. He arranged the greatcoat over them both so that his aroused body was no longer visible. “You no longer have any choice but to trust me. Look at me, my sweet Harriet.”
She met his eyes and saw the stark need in him. She had never seen blatant need in a man’s gaze before, but she recognized it instantly. And she saw something else as well. A deep wariness and a grim determination lit his eyes. It was as if he was bracing himself for some pain that he knew was bound to come.
Harriet smiled softly. “I trust you, Gideon.”
He groaned and bent his head to kiss her breast with reverent care. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. This feeling was beyond anything, Harriet thought. She felt Gideon’s big hand sliding down, pushing the gown over her hips and completely off, freeing her completely to his touch. Harriet trembled beneath the rough gentleness of his fingers.
His palm was on the inside of her thigh now, stroking upward to the core of the liquid fire that seemed to burn within her. But when he actually dipped one large finger into that fire, opening her, she cried out in shock.
“You are already wet for me.” Gideon withdrew his finger carefully and then thrust it slowly into her again.
Harriet’s entire body tightened in response to the startling intrusion. She squeezed her eyes shut and held herself still, trying to decide if she liked the feel of him inside her or not. It was all so strange. Deliciously strange.