by Amanda Quick
“I have not yet had an opportunity to read my copy, but I shall make it a point to do so the instant I return home. If you say the article is worthwhile, then I know I shall be enthralled. Your judgment in such matters is always exemplary, Miss Pomeroy.”
Harriet could not resist the flattery. She decided to do a bit of delicate probing on the subject of fossil teeth. “How kind of you to say so, sir. Have you done much work with teeth?”
“A bit here and there. Nothing to speak of, really. I must admit that I prefer toes to teeth when it comes to making identifications. One can tell so much from toes.”
“I see.” Harriet was disappointed. It would have been nice to have been able to show her tooth to Lord Applegate. She liked him and was convinced she could trust him. But there was no point showing him the fossil if he knew nothing about teeth. “I, myself, prefer teeth. One can instantly tell the carnivores from the creatures that lived on vegetation just from looking at their teeth. And once one knows that much, one can deduce a great deal more about the animal.”
Applegate beamed fondly. “You really ought to pay a visit to Mr. Humboldt’s Museum one of these days, Miss Pomeroy. He’s got an amazing collection of fossils stored away in that old house of his. Opens it to the public twice a week on Mondays and Thursdays. I went there once or twice looking for toes and such. He has drawers full of teeth.”
“Really?” Harriet was excited. She barely noticed that Applegate’s knee was perilously close to her own. The skirts of her gown were once more in danger of being crushed. “Is Mr. Humboldt a member of the Society?”
“Used to be,” Applegate said. “But he declared us all hopeless amateurs and resigned out of hand. He is a rather odd individual. Very secretive about his work and highly suspicious of others.”
“I can understand that.” Harriet made a mental note to schedule a visit to Mr. Humboldt’s Museum at the next available opportunity.
Applegate took a deep breath and fixed her with a very serious expression. “Miss Pomeroy, would you mind very much if we changed the topic of our conversation to what I feel is a more pressing matter?”
“What matter is that?” Harriet wondered what hours Mr. Humboldt’s Museum was open. Perhaps there would be an advertisement in the papers.
Applegate ran his finger around the inside of his cravat, loosening it. There was a sheen of moisture on his brow. “I fear you will find me importunate.”
“Nonsense. Ask away, my lord.” Harriet glanced around the buzzing room. The subject of forgeries was certainly turning out to be a matter of deep interest among the members of the Society.
“The thing is, Miss Pomeroy. That is to say …” Applegate tugged at his cravat again and cleared his throat. He lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “The thing is, I cannot bring myself to believe that you are engaged to St. Justin.”
That remark brought Harriet’s attention instantly back to Applegate. She frowned. “Why on earth do you have trouble believing it, sir?”
Applegate was looking somewhat desperate now, but he plunged gamely on. “Forgive me, Miss Pomeroy, but you are far too good for him.”
“Too good for him?”
“Yes, Miss Pomeroy. Much too good. Too fine by half. I can only believe he is somehow forcing you into this alliance.”
“Applegate, have you lost your senses?”
Applegate leaned forward earnestly, daring to touch her hand. His fingers were trembling with the depths of his emotion. “You may confide the truth in me, Miss Pomeroy. I will help you to escape the clutches of the Beast of Blackthorne Hall.”
Harriet’s eyes widened in anger. She put down her teacup with a small crash and got to her feet. “Really, sir. You go much too far. I will not tolerate that sort of talk. If you would be my friend, you must refrain from it.”
She turned away from a much abashed Applegate and walked briskly across the room to join a small group that was discussing methods of detecting forgeries.
It was all becoming increasingly overwhelming, Harriet thought unhappily. She wondered how Gideon had survived the gossip for six long years. She was already more than ready to leave Town and never return, and it was not her honor which was in question.
Felicity’s observation about Gideon putting his exotic pet fiancée on display was forcibly reaffirmed for Harriet that afternoon. She had been looking forward to the drive in the park. Indeed, under any other conditions, she would have enjoyed it immensely. The day was a very fine one, crisp and sunny and invigorating.
Felicity supervised the selection of Harriet’s gown and pelisse.
“Definitely the yellow muslin with the turquoise pelisse,” Felicity proclaimed. “With, I think, the turquoise bonnet. It suits your eyes. Do not forget your gloves.”
Harriet studied herself in the looking glass. “You do not think it is a bit bright?”
Felicity smiled knowingly. “It is very bright. And you look wonderful. You will stand out in the park and St. Justin will appreciate that. He’ll want to make certain everyone notices you.”
Harriet glowered at her, but said nothing. She was afraid that Felicity was right.
Gideon arrived in front of Aunt Adelaide’s townhouse in a bright yellow driving phaeton. The dashing carriage was horsed by two huge, powerful-looking beasts. The animals did not match in color as was the fashion. One was a bulky, muscled chestnut and the other was a monstrous gray. Both looked as if they would be extremely difficult to manage, but they appeared very well behaved. Harriet was suitably impressed.
“What magnificent animals, my lord,” she said as Gideon handed her up onto the high seat of the phaeton. “I will wager they can run at full gallop for hours. They appear very sturdy.”
“They are,” Gideon said. “And you are quite correct about their stamina. But I assure you, Minotaur and Cyclops are barely worthy of pulling this carriage now that you are seated in it. You are looking very charming this afternoon.”
Harriet sensed the cool satisfaction behind the gallant words and she glanced quickly at Gideon. She could read nothing in the strong, set lines of his face, however. He vaulted easily up onto the seat beside her and collected the reins.
Harriet was not surprised to discover that Gideon handled the team with cool mastery. He deftly guided the horses along the crowded thoroughfare and then turned into the park. There they joined the throng of elegantly dressed people who had turned out in every manner of carriage and on horseback to see and be seen.
Harriet was aware at once that she and Gideon were the focus of a great deal of immediate attention. Everyone they passed gazed at the couple in the yellow phaeton with varying degrees of politeness and avid curiosity. Some simply stared boldly. Others nodded aloofly and slid assessing glances over Harriet. Several could not take their eyes off Gideon’s scarred face. And a few raised eyebrows at the sight of the unfashionable horses.
Gideon appeared totally unaware of the attention he and Harriet were receiving, but Harriet began to grow increasingly uneasy. It occurred to her that she would have felt awkward even if Felicity had not made her comments about exotic pet fiancées.
“I understand you danced the waltz with Morland last night,” Gideon said after a period of silence. He sounded as though he were merely commenting on the weather.
“Yes,” Harriet admitted. “He has been very kind to both Felicity and me since we appeared in Town. He claims he is an old friend of yours, sir.”
“That was a long time ago,” Gideon murmured, his attention on his horses as he guided them through a crowded section of the path. “I think it would be best if you did not dance with him again.”
Harriet, already on edge because of all the stares, reacted more sharply than she might have otherwise. “Are you saying you do not approve of Mr. Morland, sir?”
“That is precisely what I am saying, my dear. If you wish to dance the waltz, I shall be happy to partner you.”
Harriet was flustered. “Well, of course I should much prefer to dance with
you, my lord. You know that. But I am told that engaged women and even married women frequently dance with a great many other people besides their fiancés and husbands. It is fashionable to do so.”
“You do not need to concern yourself with fashion, Harriet. You will set your own style.”
“It sounds to me as though you are trying to set my style.” Harriet turned her head to avoid the frank gaze of a man on horseback. She was sure he said something quite odious to his friend as they passed the phaeton. An unpleasant laugh drifted back on the breeze.
“I am trying to avoid trouble,” Gideon said quietly. “You are a sensible woman, Harriet. You have trusted me before and you must trust me again. Stay clear of Morland.”
“Why?” she demanded baldly.
Gideon’s jaw tightened. “I do not think it is necessary to go into the reasons.”
“Well, I do. I am not a green chit fresh out of the schoolroom, my lord. If you wish me to do something or not do something, you must explain why.” A thought struck her, squelching her incipient defiance. She smiled tremulously. “If you are jealous of Mr. Morland, I assure you, there is no need. I did not enjoy dancing the waltz with him nearly as much as I enjoy it with you.”
“This is not a question of jealousy. It is a question of common sense. Need I remind you, Harriet, that we are in our present situation precisely because you did not follow my instructions on another occasion?”
Harriet winced, momentarily subdued by guilt. She could not deny that it was her failure to stay safely at home on the night the thieves had been trapped that had led to Gideon’s proposal. She tried to rally her spirits.
“I admit I am somewhat at fault, my lord. But if you had included me in your plans as I requested, I would have been more cautious that night. You have a tendency to be very autocratic, sir, if you do not mind my saying so. It is a most unpleasant habit.”
Gideon glanced at her. One dark brow rose. “If that is the only fault you can find in me, then I think we shall deal very well with each other, my dear.”
She gave him a disgruntled look. “It is a major fault, sir, not a minor one.”
“Only in your eyes.”
“My eyes are the only ones that matter,” she retorted.
A slow, faint smile curved Gideon’s mouth. “I’ll grant you that much. Your eyes are, indeed, the only ones that matter. And you have very beautiful eyes, Harriet. Have I told you that?”
She warmed instantly to the compliment. “No, sir, you have not.”
“Then allow me to do so now.”
“Thank you.” Harriet blushed as the phaeton moved on down the park path. She was not accustomed to being told she had any fine points. “Felicity said the color of this bonnet would bring out my eyes.”
“It does indeed.” Gideon was obviously amused.
“But do not think that gallantry will make me forget your odious tendency to issue orders, sir.”
“I will not forget, my dear.”
She slid him a calculating glance. “Are you sure you will not tell me why it is you wish me to avoid Mr. Morland?”
“Suffice it to say he is not the angel he appears.”
Harriet frowned. “Do you know, that is exactly what I thought he looked like last night. An archangel out of an old painting.”
“Do not confuse appearances with reality.”
“I will not, my lord,” she said stiffly. “I am not a fool.”
“I know,” Gideon said gently. “But you have a tendency to be rather obstinate and headstrong.”
“It seems only fair that I should have a flaw or two equal to your own,” Harriet said sweetly.
“Hmm.”
Harriet was about to pursue the subject of Bryce Morland when a familiar face appeared out of the crowd of riders on the path. She smiled in welcome at Lord Applegate, who was riding a sleek, prancing black gelding. The animal was fashionable in all the ways that Gideon’s horses were not. It had a fine-boned, high-spirited elegance which perfectly complemented its rider’s equally elegant attire.
“Good afternoon, Miss Pomeroy. St. Justin.” Applegate guided his graceful gelding alongside the yellow phaeton. His eyes lingered wistfully on Harriet’s face framed in her ruffled turquoise bonnet. “You are looking exquisite today, Miss Pomeroy, if I may say so.”
“Thank you, sir.” Harriet glanced at Gideon out of the corner of her eye. He appeared distinctly bored. She looked at Applegate again. “Have you had a chance to read that article on fossil tooth identification in the last issue of the Transactions?”
“Yes, indeed,” Applegate assured her eagerly. “As soon as you mentioned it to me I went straight home and read it. Very interesting.”
“I was especially taken by the section on the identification of the fossil teeth of reptiles,” Harriet said cautiously. She did not want to give away any hints yet about her own precious tooth, but she was getting desperate to discuss it with someone.
Applegate assumed a serious, contemplative expression. “Quite a fascinating discussion. I, myself, have serious doubts about just how much one can assume from teeth, however. Such a small bit from which to draw major assumptions. A toe bone is so much more helpful.”
“Yes, well, it is definitely helpful to have more than merely a tooth to work with before one draws conclusions,” Harriet said, anxious to make polite conversation. Gideon, she noticed, was not being at all helpful.
Applegate smiled in warm admiration. “You are always so precise and methodical in your approach to such matters, Miss Pomeroy. It is always instructive to listen to you.”
Harriet felt herself blushing all over again. “How kind of you to say so, sir.”
Gideon finally deigned to notice Applegate. “Would you mind very much moving your horse a bit, Applegate? He is making my gray edgy.”
Applegate turned red. “Beg pardon, sir.” He jerked his sleek black aside.
Gideon gave the signal to his team. The big horses immediately broke into a thundering trot. The phaeton pulled away from Applegate, who was soon lost in the crowd. Gideon eased back on the reins once more.
“You seem to have acquired an admirer in young Applegate,” Gideon observed.
“He is very pleasant,” Harriet said. “And we have a great deal in common.”
“A mutual interest in fossil teeth?”
Harriet frowned. “Well, actually Lord Applegate is more interested in toes. But I think he focuses on the wrong anatomical points. I can frequently deduce what sort of feet an animal has on the basis of its teeth. Eaters of vegetation often have hooves, for example. Carnivores will have claws. Fossil teeth are ever so much more useful than fossil toes, in my opinion.”
“I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear that Applegate is wrong-headed. For a moment there, I suspected I had a serious rival.”
Harriet had had enough. “I believe you are mocking me, sir.”
Gideon’s expression softened as he looked down into her eyes. “Not at all, Miss Pomeroy. I am merely somewhat amused.”
“Yes, I know, sir. But it is becoming obvious that you are amusing yourself at my expense and I do not care for it.”
The softness in Gideon’s eyes vanished. “Is that so?”
“Yes, it is so,” Harriet retorted. “I understand that you are not particularly pleased to find yourself engaged under such circumstances and I have tried to be tolerant.”
Gideon’s lashes half closed over his tawny eyes. “Tolerant?”
“Yes, tolerant. But I would appreciate it if you would bear in mind that I am not exactly thrilled with our situation, either. It seems to me, sir, that we must both endeavor to make the best of matters. And it would help a great deal if you would refrain from mocking me and my friends.”
Gideon looked momentarily nonplussed. “I assure you, Harriet, that I had no intention of mocking you.”
“I am delighted to hear that. Then you will want to try very hard not to insult my friends or my interest in fossil teeth, will you not?�
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“Harriet, I think you are overreacting to a minor observation.”
“Better to begin as I mean to go on,” Harriet informed him. “And I can assure you, St. Justin, that if we are to have any chance of a peaceful, serene married life, you will have to learn to be less overbearing and sarcastic. I will not have you snapping and growling at everyone who comes near. It is no wonder you have a limited circle of friends.”
Gideon scowled furiously. “Damnation, Harriet, you have a great deal of nerve accusing me of being overbearing. You can be a regular little tyrant yourself, on occasion. If you indeed desire a peaceful and serene married life, I would advise you not to gainsay your husband at every turn.”
“Hah. You are a fine one to give advice on marriage. You have never even been married.”
“Neither have you. And I am beginning to think that is one of the reasons for your shrewish tendencies. You have lived too long without a man’s guidance.”
“I have no particular desire for a man’s guidance. And if you think it will be your duty to guide me after we are wed, then you had better reconsider your role as a husband.”
“I know my duty as a husband,” Gideon said through clenched teeth. “You have yet to learn yours as a wife. Now, kindly cease prattling on about a subject you as yet know very little about. People are starting to take notice.”
Harriet smiled very brightly, well aware of the curious stares they were drawing. “Gracious. We certainly would not want to become the focus of public attention, would we?”
“We already are the focus of public scrutiny.”
“Precisely my point, sir,” she murmured. “What is a public argument here or there? People are going to stare, regardless. We might as well have our squabbles take place in the park for all the world to see and enjoy.”
Gideon gave a small, muffled exclamation that could have been either a laugh or a groan of despair. “Harriet, you are impossible. If we were anyplace other than the park at this moment, do you know what I would do?”