by Amanda Quick
“Understood, sir. Understood.”
The small party made its way out of the cave and along the beach to the cliff path that led to the old rectory. At the top of the cliffs, Gideon took Harriet’s arm. He dismissed Dobbs and Owl with a short nod.
“Come, Harriet,” he said quietly. “I will see you to your door.”
“It is not necessary,” she muttered. “I can see myself to my own door.”
He suppressed an irritated response. She was overset by recent events and her natural independence was seeking any avenue it could find to express itself. Gideon told himself he would have to be prepared for a certain lack of enthusiastic cooperation from Harriet for the immediate future. The important thing was that she realized she had no option but to accept the engagement.
The door of the rectory opened before Gideon and Harriet reached the front step. Felicity, looking simultaneously anxious and relieved, had obviously been watching from the window.
“Harriet, we have been so worried. Are you all right?”
“I am quite all right,” Harriet assured her. “How is Aunt Effie?”
“Preparing for a funeral in the parlor, I believe. Mrs. Stone collapsed after Mr. Owl came by late last night to tell us what had happened. I have been reviving her off and on for hours.” Felicity scowled at Gideon. “Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself?”
Gideon smiled coldly at the challenge. “I fear I do not have the time or inclination to say anything much at this particular moment. I will, however, return at three to speak with your aunt. Please tell her to expect me.” He turned to Harriet. “Farewell for now, my dear. I will see you this afternoon. Try not to work yourself up into a state. You will feel much better after you have had a hot bath.”
Harriet sniffed disdainfully. “I have no intention of working myself up into a state, as you call it. But I do believe I will have that hot bath.”
She marched into the house and closed the door quite firmly in his face. Gideon walked back down the steps to join Dobbs and Owl.
“Miss Pomeroy don’t appear in the best of tempers this mornin’,” Dobbs observed. “Expect she’s in a real takin’ after what she’s been through. A nice young lady like that. Yer lucky she didn’t up and have hysterics on you, sir.”
“My fiancee is not the type to have hysterics. Do not concern yourself with Miss Pomeroy’s mood, Dobbs. We have other, more important matters to discuss.”
“Yes, sir. And what would those matters be, yer lordship?”
Gideon glanced thoughtfully back over his shoulder at the cliffs. “The possibility that we have not got all of our thieves.”
Dobbs’s gnomelike face wrinkled up into a curious frown. “You think there might have been others?”
“The collection of valuables stored in that cavern is quite impressive,” Gideon said quietly. “I believe that they were chosen with a trained, knowledgeable eye, rather than at random during a hurried burglary.”
“Ah-hah.” Dobbs was intrigued now. “You believe there might have been a mastermind behind the thefts? Someone who arranged for only the choicest items to be stolen?”
“I think it would pay us to interview Crane and the other two we caught last night,” Gideon said.
“I’ll go along with that,” Dobbs said, rubbing his hands. “The more, the merrier. I don’t mind tellin’ you that solving this case is going to do wonders for me reputation. Yes, sir, the Fancy will be standin’ in line to hire one J. William Dobbs to work for ’em.”
“No doubt.” Gideon turned to Owl. “While I go with Dobbs to the magistrate to deal with the interviews, you are to take yourself back to Blackthorne Hall and instruct my valet to prepare my clothes for this afternoon’s call at the rectory. Make certain everything is in perfect order, Owl. I am going to be making an offer of marriage and I shall want to make a good impression.”
“You’ll be wanting to wear black, then, my lord. Same as you would for mourning.”
Effie helped herself to another cup of tea. It was her fourth since Harriet had returned downstairs after her bath. Felicity was pacing the floor near the parlor window, her expression extremely serious. Mrs. Stone had been revived yet again after fainting dead away at the sight of Harriet. As soon as she was back on her feet, she had promptly drawn the drapes as if there had been a death in the house.
The tall clock ticked dolefully away, signaling the steady approach of three o’clock. With each tiny movement of the clock hands, Effie appeared to sink further into despondency. All in all, an atmosphere of deep gloom had settled over the household.
It was getting to be a bit much as far as Harriet was concerned. She had been consumed with guilt at first for having overset everyone. But now she was growing impatient with the attitude of despair that hung over them all.
“I do not understand why you are acting as if I had died in that cave,” Harriet muttered, pouring tea for herself.
Unacquainted with the appropriate style of gown one wore to receive an offer of marriage from a viscount, she had selected her newest, a muslin that had originally been white but which Harriet had recently dyed yellow after the fabric had started to turn that color on its own. The long sleeves were gathered at the wrist and the neckline was filled in with a modest, pleated chemisette. Harriet had pinned a fresh white lace cap on her untamed hair. She always felt vaguely undressed without a cap.
When she had examined herself in her looking glass she had decided she looked very much as she usually did. Quite ordinary, in fact. One would have thought that after what had happened last night, she would appear somehow different. More exciting or interesting, perhaps. It would have been amusing to find she had become a woman of mystery. Instead she simply looked like plain Harriet.
“Thank heaven you did not die,” Felicity said. “Honestly, Harriet, I have never understood how you could go into those caves in the first place, let alone spend an entire night in one. It must have been a dreadful experience.”
“Well, it was not particularly dreadful, merely uncomfortable. And it was not as if there was a great deal of choice.” Harriet sipped her tea. “Once in, there was no way out until the tide retreated. The entire thing was an accident. I would like to stress that point yet again.”
“The entire thing was a disaster,” Effie said morosely. “Heaven only knows what will happen now.”
“What will happen now is that I shall soon find myself engaged,” Harriet said with a sigh.
“To a man who is in line for an earldom,” Felicity pointed out with her customary pragmatism. “Not such a bad fate, if you ask me.”
“It would not be such a bad fate if he were marrying me because he had fallen hopelessly, mindlessly, passionately in love with me,” Harriet said. “The problem is that he is going to marry me because he feels honor-bound to do so.”
“And so he should,” Effie said grimly. “He has ruined you. Utterly.”
Harriet frowned. “I do not feel ruined in the least.”
Mrs. Stone lumbered into the room with another tray of tea and surveyed the small group. She had the air of one who is about to pronounce doom. “There will be no engagement and no marriage. Mark my words. You’ll see. The Beast of Blackthorne Hall has had his wicked way with Miss Harriet and now he will toss her aside like so much garbage.”
“Heaven help us.” Effie twisted her hankie in her lap and leaned back in her chair with a moan.
Harriet wrinkled her nose. “Really, Mrs. Stone. I would prefer that you did not refer to me as garbage. You may recall that I am your employer.”
“Nothing personal, Miss Harriet.” Mrs. Stone set down the tea tray with a bang. “’Tis just that I know the nature of the Beast. I have been through this once before. He’s got what he wanted. He’ll be long gone by now.”
Felicity gazed speculatively at Harriet. “Did he really get what he wanted, Harriet? You have not been precisely clear on that point.”
“For goodness’ sake,” Effie muttered before Harriet could
think of a response. “It hardly matters whether he did or did not. The damage is done.”
Harriet smiled blandly at her sister. “There, you see, Felicity? What actually happened is unimportant. Appearance is all.”
“Yes, I know,” Felicity said. “But I am extremely curious, you know.”
“Oh, he ravished her, all right,” Mrs. Stone said bluntly. “You may depend upon it. No young innocent could spend the night with the Beast of Blackthorne Hall and not find herself ravished.”
Harriet felt herself turning pink. She reached for one of the small cakes on the tea tray. “Thank you for your opinion, Mrs. Stone. I believe we have heard quite enough. Why do you not go and see about something in the kitchen? I am certain his lordship will be here at any moment. We will be wanting more tea.”
Mrs. Stone drew herself up. “I just brung fresh tea. And yer only foolin’ yerself, Miss Harriet, if you think St. Justin will show himself around here this afternoon. Best resign yerself to the inevitable, I say. And pray to the Good Lord ye don’t find yerself with child the way my poor Deirdre did.”
Harriet’s mouth tightened in anger. “Even if I did face that fate, I can assure you I have no intention of adding to the drama by taking my own life, Mrs. Stone.”
“Harriet, please,” Effie said desperately. “Can we talk of something else? All this chatter of ravishment and suicide is extremely depressing to the spirits.”
The sound of a horse’s hooves outside brought a merciful end to the conversation. Felicity flew to the window and peered through the curtains.
“It’s him,” she exclaimed triumphantly. “On a great brute of a horse. Harriet was right. St. Justin has come to make an offer of marriage.”
“Thank heavens,” Effie said, straightening instantly in her chair. “We are saved. Harriet, either take that cake out of your mouth or swallow it quickly.”
“I’m hungry,” Harriet said around the mouthful of cake. “I did not get any breakfast, if you will recall.”
“A young lady who is about to receive an offer of marriage should be too overset with emotion to eat. Especially when that offer is coming under such circumstances as these. Mrs. Stone, prepare to answer the door. We do not want to keep his lordship waiting today of all days. Felicity, take yourself off. This does not concern you.”
“Oh, very well, Aunt Effie.” Felicity rolled her eyes at Harriet as she whisked herself out of the parlor. “But I shall want a full report later,” she called out from the hall.
In spite of the air of bravado she had managed to assume in front of the others, Harriet’s stomach was churning. Her whole future was at stake here and nothing was going the way she had planned. When she heard Gideon’s abrupt, authoritative knock on the front door, she suddenly wished she had not eaten the tea cake.
Harriet waited tensely as Mrs. Stone opened the front door.
“You may tell Mrs. Ashecombe that St. Justin is here,” Gideon said coldly. “I am expected.”
“’Tis cruel of you to make poor Miss Pomeroy think you’ll actually marry her,” Mrs. Stone said forcefully “Bloody cruel.”
“Stand aside, Mrs. Stone,” Gideon growled. “I shall show myself into the parlor.”
Boot heels rang on the hall floor. The sound had to be deliberate. Gideon always moved very quietly when he wished.
Harriet winced. “Oh, dear. I fear we are off to a bad start, Aunt Effie. Mrs. Stone has managed to offend him before he even got through the door.”
“Hush,” Effie commanded. “I shall deal with this.”
Gideon strode into the room and Harriet caught her breath at the sight of him. His height and his massive, powerfully built body always combined to make him look very impressive in his elegantly cut clothes and glossy boots. But this afternoon he was even more devastating to her senses than usual. She wondered if it was her new, very intimate knowledge of him that added the extra layer of awareness.
Gideon’s eyes met hers and she knew without a doubt that he was remembering last night. She felt herself blush furiously and was annoyed. In an instinctive effort to cover her response she snatched up another tea cake and bit into it as Gideon nodded to Effie.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Ashecombe. Thank you for receiving me. You are no doubt aware of why I have come to call.”
“I have a fair notion of your reason for calling upon us, sir. Do sit down. Harriet will pour.” Effie frowned quellingly at Harriet.
Struggling to swallow the unwanted tea cake, Harriet grabbed the teapot and poured a cup for Gideon. Wordlessly she handed it to him.
“Thank you, Miss Pomeroy.” Gideon took the cup as he sat down across from her. “You are looking very well this afternoon. Quite recovered from your ordeal, I take it?”
For some reason, perhaps because she was already walking a tightrope as far as her nerves were concerned, Harriet took offense at that comment. She swallowed the tea cake, which tasted like sawdust in her mouth, and managed a cool smile.
“Yes, my lord. Quite recovered. I bounce back from ordeals very well, I must say. Why, here it is, only a few hours after finding myself ruined, yet I do not feel any of the remorse and despair one would expect after sacrificing one’s precious virginity to the Beast of Blackthorne Hall.”
Effie was horrified. “Harriet. ”
Harriet smiled sweetly. “Well, it’s not like I was planning to do anything all that interesting with it, anyway. Therefore I am not overly concerned about the loss.”
Effie gave her a grimly repressive look. “Behave yourself. His lordship is here to make you an offer of marriage, for heaven’s sake.” She turned swiftly to Gideon. “I fear she is not herself today. Her delicate sensibilities, you know. She has been quite overset by the entire experience.”
Gideon smiled his lion’s smile. “I understand, Mrs. Ashecombe. Delicate sensibilities, indeed. Just what one would expect from a well-bred young lady. Perhaps you and I should discuss this matter by ourselves. Something tells me your niece is not going to contribute anything meaningful to the conversation.”
Chapter Eight
THE MYSTERIOUS TOOTH together with a small chunk of fossilized jawbone came out of the rock with surprising ease. Harriet applied her mallet and chisel with a delicate precision that she had learned long ago from her father, and within a short time she was holding the fossil in her hand.
It was a very large tooth, blade-shaped and set in a socket, not simply adhering to the bone of the jaw. The tooth of a carnivore, Harriet decided. A very big carnivore.
She examined it by the light of the lamp she had hung on the peg in the cavern wall. She could not be certain until she’d had an opportunity to do some research, but she was very sure it was unlike any fossil tooth she had ever found. Nor did it match anything in her father’s collection.
With any luck it would be a remnant of a heretofore unknown species. If it could not be identified, she would be able to write a paper introducing it to the world.
It had been two days since she had spent the fateful night with Gideon. Cradling the fossil in her hands, Harriet gazed around her at the cavern which had altered her life. The stolen goods had all been removed by Mr. Dobbs under the supervision of Gideon and the local magistrate.
Even the canvas bags that had served as a bed that night had been removed.
Still clutching the fossil tooth, Harriet wandered over to the spot where she had lain in Gideon’s arms. The searing memories nearly overwhelmed her once again. She recalled the raw need in his eyes, the sweat on his brow, and the taut, corded muscles of his shoulders. He had been at the limits of his own self-control that night.
But his main concern had been the pain he was causing her, Harriet reflected. He had done everything he could to minimize her discomfort, even though he had clearly been driven hard by his own passion.
Harriet shivered as she remembered what it had felt like to have Gideon inside her. He had filled her so completely that he had almost made himself a part of her. For a timeless mome
nt they had been bound together more closely than she would ever have believed possible. The sense of shattering intimacy had been more than physical. Harriet had felt as though she had touched Gideon’s soul. She knew he had touched hers.
The unaccustomed flight of poetic fancy startled her.
“Rubbish,” she muttered aloud. That was probably just the sort of thing all young ladies in love told themselves after having done something quite silly such as surrendering their virginity before marriage. One had to justify the recklessness somehow.
But perhaps she could be excused for her poetic inclinations. She was, after all, definitely a woman in love.
Harriet had known that for two days now. In truth, she had known it even before Gideon had made love to her. What tore at her heart and made her stomach reel with dread was knowing that Gideon was only marrying her because of his honor.
Harriet knew there was no way of dissuading him from the marriage. His honor had been mauled too savagely in the past. He would not allow it to happen again, especially not under such similar circumstances. His pride was a raw wound. He would attack anything that threatened it.
Harriet picked up her lamp and walked slowly out of the cavern where she had discovered that love was not nearly as simple or as sweet as she had once assumed it to be.
It was much easier to deal with riddles in stone such as her beautiful fossil tooth than it was to comprehend the complex nature of a man like Gideon, she decided. A man like Gideon simply had to be accepted and loved.
He was far too proud to explain himself or to ask for understanding.
Felicity bounced into the study just as Harriet was preparing to begin a sketch of the tooth she had found in the cavern.
“There you are. I thought I might find you in here.” Felicity closed the door behind her and sat down. “How can you bring yourself to work on those horrid old fossils after all the excitement lately?”