by Amanda Quick
She narrowed her eyes. “Nothing violent, I trust.”
“Of course not.” Gideon looked thoroughly disgusted. “No matter what anyone tells you, I would not hurt you, Harriet.”
Harriet bit her lip, sensing the angry pain behind the words. She could not imagine Gideon using his great strength against her. Whenever she recalled the night they had spent together in the cavern, she was overwhelmed anew with memories of the way he had controlled his own magnificent physical power.
“Forgive me, Gideon. I know very well that you would never become violent with me.”
His eyes met hers suddenly. “How can you be so certain, Harriet? Do you trust me that much, little one?”
She felt herself turning pink. Her eyes slid away from his and she focused intently on the ears of the horses. “You forget how intimately I am acquainted with you, St. Justin.”
“Believe me, I do not forget for one single moment,” Gideon said. “I lie awake at nights remembering just how intimately we are acquainted. I have not been sleeping at all well lately, Harriet, and it is all your fault. You have invaded my dreams.”
“Oh.” Harriet was not certain how to respond to that. She could not tell just how much Gideon minded having his dreams invaded. She wondered if she should mention the fact that he was currently invading hers. “I am sorry you are not sleeping well, sir. I occasionally have a problem with sleep myself.”
Gideon’s mouth curved wryly. “While you no doubt spend the occasional restless night thinking about fossil teeth, I fill in the sleepless hours imagining just how I shall make love to you when I finally have you in my bed.”
“Gideon.”
“And making love to you is what I would do to you right now if we were not sitting in an open carriage in the middle of a public park.”
“Gideon, hush.”
“Remember that the next time you are tempted to get mouthy with your future lord and master, Miss Pomeroy.” Gideon smiled in unsubtle threat. “Every time you challenge him, you can rest assured he will get even by thinking up new and unique ways to make you shudder and throb with pleasure in his arms.”
Harriet was shocked into speechlessness, an event which appeared to give Gideon great satisfaction.
Harriet sensed an odd undercurrent of tension in Lady Youngstreet’s drawing room when she attended the hastily called special meeting of the Fossils and Antiquities Society. She felt Lord Fry’s gaze on her several times during the session and she was aware of Lord Applegate looking at her with a curious resoluteness. Lady Youngstreet appeared strangely excited, as if she harbored a secret of some sort.
The Society had been convened on short notice by Lady Youngstreet to hear a lecture from a Mr. Crisply. Mr. Crisply gave a rather boring talk designed to show quite clearly that there was no way fossil animals could be the predecessors of modern animals. To give credence to the bizarre notion that there might have been earlier versions of contemporary animals was ludicrous, he claimed.
“To accept such an outlandish idea,” Mr. Crisply warned in ominous tones, “would open the door to the blasphemous and scientifically impossible theory that human beings might have had some previous ancestors who were far different than the humans of today.”
No one, of course, could countenance such an outrageous suggestion. At least not publicly. There was a desultroy round of applause when Mr. Crisply finished his talk.
As the crowd broke up into smaller conversational groups, Lord Fry leaned over to murmur to Harriet. “I say. An excellent talk, eh, Miss Pomeroy?”
“Quite excellent,” she responded politely. “I was somewhat disappointed he did not mention fossil teeth, however.”
“Yes, well, perhaps next time.” Lord Fry gave a start. “I say, that reminds me. After the meeting this afternoon, Lady Youngstreet, Applegate, and myself are going to visit a friend who has a most amazing collection of fossil teeth. Would you care to join us?”
Harriet was instantly enthusiastic. “I should be delighted to do so. Does your friend live very far from here?”
“On the outskirts of Town,” Fry said. “We shall be taking Lady Youngstreet’s carriage.”
“Thank you so much for inviting me, sir. I would love to see your friend’s teeth.”
“Thought so.” Fry smiled with satisfaction.
“I shall send a short note to my aunt’s house letting her know I shall be somewhat late returning this afternoon,” Harriet said. “I would not want my family to worry.”
“As you wish,” Fry murmured. “Expect Lady Youngstreet can arrange for a member of her staff to deliver it.”
Late that afternoon as the last of the other members of the Society took their leave, Harriet was handed up into Lady Youngstreet’s old-fashioned traveling coach. Lady Youngstreet smiled benignly as Harriet seated herself beside her.
“I always use this coach for traveling any distance in Town,” Lady Youngstreet said. “So much more comfortable than the hewer style of Town carriage.”
Fry and Applegate sat down across from the ladies on the maroon velvet cushions. Harriet could not help but notice that their expressions were very strained.
“This should be a most enjoyable journey,” Lady Youngstreet said.
“I am quite looking forward to it,” Harriet said. “I just happen to have my sketchbook in my reticule. “Do you suppose this gentleman with the collection of fossil teeth will allow me to make some drawings?”
“I expect he can be persuaded,” Lord Fry mumbled.
The heavy old carriage set off slowly through the crowded streets. When it reached the outskirts of the city, however, it did not slow. Instead, the coachman urged the four-horse team into a sedate canter.
Harriet began to grow uneasy. She glanced out the window and noticed that they were leaving the city and were now in open country. “Are we getting close to your friend’s house, Lord Fry?”
Lord Fry turned a dark shade of red. He cleared his throat. “Ahem. I think it’s time you were told what is happening, my dear Miss Pomeroy.”
“Yes, indeed.” Lady Youngstreet patted her hand reassuringly. Her eyes were bright with excitement. “You may rest easy, Harriet. As your faithful friends, we have taken it upon ourselves to rescue you from marriage to the Beast of Blackthorne Hall.”
Harriet stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”
Lord Applegate ran his finger around his high cravat and looked more resolute than ever. “We are headed for Gretna Green, Miss Pomeroy.”
“Gretna Green? You are kidnapping me?”
Lord Fry frowned. “Not at all, Miss Pomeroy. We are rescuing you. We have been working on our plan since shortly after St. Justin arrived in London. It has become clear he is going to continue to play his wicked games with you. We could not allow it. You are our friend, a fellow fossil collector. We will do what we must.”
“Dear heaven,” Harriet whispered, stunned. “But why Gretna Green?”
Applegate squared his rather thin shoulders. “It will be my great pleasure to marry you there, Miss Pomeroy. We have decided it is the only way to put a stop to St. Justin’s machinations.”
“Marry me? Good grief.” Harriet did not know whether to laugh or scream. “St. Justin is going to be furious.”
“Have no fear,” Applegate said. “I shall protect you.”
“And I shall assist him,” Lord Fry proclaimed.
“So shall I.” Lady Youngstreet patted Harriet’s hand. “In addition, we have the coachman to aid us. Never fear. You are safe from the Beast, my dear. Now, then, I have brought along a little something to warm the bones. A little nip of brandy always makes a long journey less tiresome, don’t you think?”
“I say. Excellent notion, my dear.” Fry gave Lady Youngstreet an approving smile as she drew a bottle out of her large reticule.
“Good grief,” Harriet said again. Then realization struck her. She frowned. “Does this mean, Lord Fry, that you do not know a friend who has a collection of fossil teeth?”
“Afraid
not, my dear,” Fry said as he took the brandy bottle from Lady Youngstreet.
“What a disappointment,” Harriet said. She sat back in the plush seat of the lumbering coach and resigned herself to wait for Gideon.
She knew it would not take him long to set out after her, and when he finally caught up with the Youngstreet carriage, he would not be in a pleasant frame of mind.
She knew she would have to protect her friends from Gideon’s wrath.
Chapter Eleven
GIDEON CONCEALED HIS SURPRISE when Felicity Pomeroy and her aunt were shown into his library very late in the afternoon. Neither lady looked happy, he noticed as he rose to his feet. And Harriet had not accompanied them.
He sensed trouble.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said as they sat down across from his desk. “To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?”
Effie glanced at Felicity, who nodded encouragingly. Effie turned back to Gideon. “Thank heavens we have found you at home, sir.”
“I intend to dine in tonight,” he murmured by way of explanation. He folded his hands on the desk in front of him and waited patiently for Effie to get to the point.
“This is a little awkward, my lord.” Effie cast another uncertain glance at Felicity, who gave her another brisk nod. “I am not precisely certain we ought to have troubled you. It is rather complicated to explain, you see. However, if what we believe has happened has, indeed, occurred, we are all facing another disaster of monumental proportions.”
“Disaster?” Gideon arched an inquiring brow at Felicity. “This is a matter that involves Harriet, then?”
“Yes, my lord,” Felicity said firmly. “It does. My aunt is obviously reluctant to explain, but I will get straight to the point. The plain fact is, sir, she has disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“We believe she has been kidnapped and is at this very moment being spirited off to Gretna Green.”
Gideon felt as if he had just stepped off a cliff. Of all the things he had expected to hear from these two, that had not been one of them. Gretna Green. There was only one reason why anyone went to Gretna Green.
“What in the name of hell are you talking about?” Gideon demanded very softly.
Effie flinched at the harshness of his tone. “We do not know for certain that she has been kidnapped,” she said hastily. “That is to say, there is a slight possibility that something of the nature is afoot. But even if she has gone north, it may transpire that she has done so quite willingly.”
“Nonsense,” said Felicity. “She would not have gone willingly. She is determined to marry St. Justin, even if he has been exhibiting her to Society as if she were an exotic pet.”
Gideon scowled at Felicity. “An exotic pet? What the devil is this talk of a pet?”
Effie turned to Felicity before the girl could answer. “She is with Lady Youngstreet, Felicity. And while Lady Youngstreet is known for her eccentricities, I have never heard of her kidnapping anyone.”
Gideon held up a hand. “I would like a clear and succinct explanation, if you please. I think you had better go first, Miss Pomeroy.”
“There is no use pretending or trying to put a polite face on it.” Felicity looked straight at Gideon. “I believe Harriet has been kidnapped by certain overzealous members of the Fossils and Antiquities Society.”
“Good God,” Gideon muttered. His mind instantly conjured up an image of the worshipful glances he had caught Applegate giving Harriet. How many others in the Society had succumbed to her charms? he wondered. “What makes you think that bunch has made off with her?”
Felicity gazed at him intently. “Harriet went to a meeting of the Society this afternoon. A short while ago we had a note from her telling us that some friends were taking her to visit a gentleman who collects fossil teeth, but I have reason to believe that was not the truth.”
Gideon ignored Effie, who was muttering something about not being absolutely certain of events. He concentrated on Felicity. “What makes you believe Harriet is not off somewhere viewing fossil teeth, Miss Pomeroy?”
“I questioned the young footman who brought us the note. He said Harriet, Lady Youngstreet, Lord Fry, and Lord Applegate had all gotten into Lady Youngstreet’s traveling coach, not her Town carriage. Furthermore, when I made further inquiries, I learned that several bags were put aboard the coach before it left.”
Gideon’s hand tightened into a fist. He forced himself to relax his fingers one by one. “I see. What makes you suspect Gretna Green?”
Felicity’s lovely mouth tightened grimly. “Aunt Effie and I have just come from Lady Youngstreet’s house. We questioned her butler and a couple of the maids. The coachman apparently confided to one of the maids shortly before he left that he had been instructed to prepare for a very fast trip to the north.”
Effie sighed. “The fact that Lord Applegate has been muttering a great deal lately about saving my niece from marriage to you, sir, makes us suspect that he may have decided to take matters into his own hands. Lady Young-street and Lord Fry have apparently assisted him in doing so.”
Gideon’s insides were turning to ice. “I did not realize Applegate was worrying about saving my fiancée.”
“Well, he would hardly mention the notion in your presence, my lord,” Felicity said matter-of-factly. “But the truth is, he has talked enough about saving Harriet for the matter to have become the subject of a great deal of gossip.”
“I see.” Gossip that had not been repeated to him, Gideon realized. He looked at Effie. “I find it interesting that you have come directly to me, Mrs. Ashecombe. May I conclude from this that you would rather your niece married me than Applegate?”
“Not particularly,” Effie said bluntly. “But it is too late to have it otherwise. This crazed notion of a runaway marriage to Applegate is going to cause even more of a scandalbroth than we are already dealing with now.”
“So I am the lesser of two evils,” Gideon observed.
“Precisely, sir.”
“How nice to know my offer of marriage is favored on such practical grounds.”
Effie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The situation is worse than you know, St. Justin. Rumors of the night you and Harriet spent in that dreadful cave may have reached Town. I got the barest hint of it last night at the Wraxham soiree. In addition to all the other gossip, people may soon be wondering if Harriet was, indeed, compromised by you. Her reputation cannot withstand this kidnapping affair.”
“It would be one thing if we actually thought Harriet would marry Applegate,” Felicity explained pragmatically.
“Ah, yes. Indeed it would.” Gideon’s fingers clamped around the small figure of a bird that sat on his desk.
“However,” Felicity continued, “we know that even if they get her to Gretna Green, Harriet will not marry Applegate.”
Gideon ran his thumb along the bird’s wing. “You do not believe so?”
“She considers herself committed to you, my lord. Harriet would never break a commitment of that nature. When they all return from the north with Harriet not wed to Applegate, the tale will be all over Town. We are already dealing with quite enough speculation on your forthcoming marriage to my sister as it is.”
Effie groaned. “They will all say poor Harriet tried to escape the clutches of the Beast of Blackthorne Hall by running away to Gretna Green and that when she got there Applegate changed his mind. The dear girl will be ruined twice.”
Gideon got to his feet and pulled the bell cord to summon his butler. “You are quite right, both of you. There is already enough talk. I shall deal with this matter immediately.”
Felicity glanced toward the door as Owl opened it. Then she looked back at Gideon. “You are going after them, my lord?”
“Of course. If, as you say, they have taken Lady Youngstreet’s ancient traveling coach, you may rest assured I will overtake them in a short while. That carriage of hers is at least twenty years old. Very heavy and badly spr
ung. And her animals are almost as old as her coach. They will not be able to make good time.”
“Yes, my lord?” Owl inquired in his graveyard tones.
“Order the phaeton horsed with Cyclops and Minotaur and brought around immediately, Owl,” Gideon said.
“Very good, my lord. Not a pleasant evening for driving, if I may say so, sir. I feel there may be a storm on the way.”
“I will take my chances, Owl. Kindly do not delay relaying my orders.”
“As you wish, sir. Never say I did not warn you.” Owl withdrew, shutting the door softly behind him.
“Well, then.” Effie got to her feet and retied the strings of her bonnet. “I suppose we had best be off, Felicity. We have done all we can.”
“Yes, Aunt Effie.” Felicity stood up and gave Gideon a sharp look. “My lord, if you do catch up with them—”
“I will most certainly catch up with them, Miss Pomeroy.”
She studied his expression for a few seconds and then drew a deep breath. “Yes, well, when you do, sir, I trust you will not be unpleasant to my sister. I am certain she will have a satisfactory explanation for this affair.”
“She will no doubt have an explanation.” Gideon strode to the door and opened it for the women. “Harriet is never short of explanations. Whether or not it will be a satisfactory one is another matter.”
Felicity frowned. “Sir, you must give me your word you will not be harsh with her. I would not have insisted on coming here to tell you what has occurred if I had thought you would be angry with her.”
Impatience flared in Gideon at the sight of the concern in Felicity’s eyes. “Do not trouble yourself, Miss Pomeroy. Your sister and I understand each other very well.”
“That is what she keeps saying,” Felicity murmured as she followed her aunt out the door. “I trust you are both correct.”
“By the bye,” Gideon said as Felicity and Effie stepped out into the hall. “Pack a bag for my fiancée as soon as you return home. I shall stop for it on my way out of Town.”
Effie looked suddenly wary. “You do not believe you will be able to return her safely to us before dawn?”