by Amanda Quick
It was Felicity who responded to that. “Of course he will not return her to us this evening, Aunt Effie. Who knows how far Harriet and her friends will have gotten on the road north? In any event, I expect that the next time we see Harriet, she will be a married woman. Is that not right, my lord?”
“Yes,” said Gideon. “Quite right. I think the time has come to put an end to this nonsense once and for all. I cannot have all and sundry trying to rescue my fiancée from the Beast of Blackthorne Hall. This sort of thing could become a damned nuisance.”
Owl had been wrong in his prediction of the weather. The evening sky was overcast, but there was no rain and the road was dry. Gideon made good progress through the streets of the city, and as soon as he was free of the traffic, he gave his horses the signal to move out at a swifter pace. Cyclops and Minotaur exploded into action, big hooves striking the ground with relentless, rhythmic power.
It would not be truly dark for another two hours. Plenty of time to catch up with Lady Youngstreet’s heavy old traveling coach.
Plenty of time to think. Perhaps too much time.
Was he pursuing a kidnapped fiancée or a fiancée who was fleeing from the Beast of Blackthorne Hall?
He longed to believe Felicity was correct when she said Harriet considered herself committed to him. But the notion that Harriet might have run off willingly into the arms of the lovestruck Applegate was a possibility Gideon could not ignore.
She had been very annoyed with him yesterday when he had taken her for that drive in the park. He remembered the little lecture she had delivered on what she called his dictatorial tendencies. She had made it clear she was not accustomed to being ordered about, no matter how well intentioned the one was who was issuing the orders.
Gideon’s jaw clenched. She had obviously been doing a great deal of thinking lately about what being married would mean. She had wanted to make it clear that she did not expect to give up her independence after the wedding.
The problem, as Gideon saw it, was that Harriet had been independent for a long time. She had been forced to make decisions for herself and others for several years. She had grown accustomed to doing so, just as she had grown accustomed to running about alone in caves.
She had grown accustomed to her freedom.
Gideon watched the road ahead, absently aware of the play of the leather in his hands as the horses bounded forward. He had chosen Cyclops and Minotaur just as he chose everything else in his world, for their stamina and endurance, not their looks. Gideon had long ago learned that superficial beauty mattered little in horses, women, or friends.
A man who was obliged to face the world with the scarred features and the ruined reputation Gideon possessed and who found himself judged on that basis soon learned the virtue of looking beneath the surface in others.
Harriet was like his horses, he reflected. She was made of sturdy stuff. But she had a mind of her own.
Perhaps she had decided life would be more pleasant for her if she married someone like Applegate, who would never dream of issuing orders to her.
Applegate had a great deal to offer, including a title and a fortune. On top of all that, Gideon realized, Applegate shared Harriet’s interest in fossils. Harriet might have found herself overwhelmingly attracted to Applegate’s brain.
Marriage to Applegate would have a number of advantages and none of the drawbacks that would most assuredly accompany marriage to the Beast of Blackthorne Hall.
If he were truly a gentleman, Gideon thought, he would probably allow her to run off with Applegate tonight.
Then he pictured Harriet in Applegate’s arms. Gideon suddenly felt coldly sick. He imagined Applegate touching her sweet breasts, kissing her soft mouth, pushing himself into her tight, welcoming heat. Anguish and a shattering sense of loss tore through Gideon.
It was impossible. Gideon knew he could not give her up.
Life without Harriet was too bleak to contemplate.
He remembered something Felicity had said earlier about exhibiting Harriet to Society as though she were some rare creature from a distant part of the globe. Gideon’s hands tightened briefly on the reins as he acknowledged to himself that he might have done just that.
The only woman on earth who is not afraid to marry the Beast
Gideon loosened his grip on the reins, urging the horses to an even faster pace. He could only pray to whatever god had abandoned him six years ago that Harriet was not running away willingly tonight.
The brandy fumes filled the interior of Lady Young-street’s massive traveling coach as it bowled along the road to the north.
Harriet opened a window as Lady Youngstreet led Lord Fry in a rousing rendition of yet another bawdy tavern song. She made a note to ask the lady where she had learned such ballads.
There was a young lady from Lower East Dipples
Who was blessed with an astonishing pair of nipples
Across the way Lord Applegate gave Harriet an apologetic look. He leaned forward to make himself heard above the lusty verses.
“I hope you are not too offended, Miss Pomeroy. Older generation, you know. Not quite so refined. They mean well.”
“Yes, I know,” Harriet said with a rueful smile. “At least they are enjoying themselves.”
“I thought it best to bring them along tonight. Their presence will lend countenance to our elopement,” Applegate explained earnestly.
“The thing is, my lord, as I have tried to tell you for some time, I do not intend to marry you even if we should happen to reach Gretna, which is highly unlikely.”
Applegate gave her an anxious look. “I am hoping you will change your mind, my dear. We have several hours left for you to consider the matter. I assure you, I will be a most devoted husband. And we have so much in common. Just think, we shall be able to go exploring together for fossils.”
“It sounds quite delightful, sir, but, as I keep reminding you, I am already engaged. I could not possibly break my commitment to St. Justin.”
Applegate’s eyes filled with admiration. “Your sense of honor in this matter does you credit, my dear. But no one really expects you to remain loyal to the man. After all, he is St. Justin. His own reputation precludes him from demanding loyalty and respect from someone as sweet and charming and innocent as yourself.”
Harriet, weary of explaining herself, decided to try another tactic. “What if I were to tell you that I am not all that innocent, sir?”
Applegate drew himself up stiffly. “I should not believe it, Miss Pomeroy. Anyone can tell from just looking at you that you are all that is innocent and virtuous.”
“Just by looking at me?”
“Of course. In addition, please recall that I have the advantage of having formed an intimate intellectual connection with you. A mind as well informed as yours is incapable of lowering itself to impure thoughts, much less acting upon them.”
“That is an interesting conclusion,” Harriet murmured. She was about to argue the point when she realized the coach was slowing.
“I say.” Lord Fry broke off his song and took another nip from the bottle. “Stopping for a bite to eat, are we? Excellent notion. Could do with a visit to Jericho while we’re at it.”
“Really, Fry.” Lady Youngstreet playfully slapped his hand with her fan and gave him a droll look. “You must not be so indelicate around the young people.”
“Quite right.” Fry bowed deeply to Harriet. “Apologies, Miss Pomeroy,” he said in a slurred voice. “Don’t know what got into me.”
“I know what got into you,” Lady Youngstreet declared gleefully. “A bottle of my best brandy. Hand it over, sir. It is my bottle, after all, and I intend to finish it.”
There was a shout from outside the coach. Harriet heard the thunder of horses’ hooves on the road. Another carriage was approaching swiftly from behind. It was almost dark now, but she recognized the yellow phaeton and the big horses that suddenly pulled up alongside Lady Youngstreet’s coach.
&nbs
p; The light, fast vehicle flashed past. She caught a glimpse of the driver. He was wearing a heavy greatcoat and a hat pulled down low over his eyes, but she would have recognized those massive shoulders anywhere.
Gideon had finally caught up with them.
There was another shout from the coachman’s box and a string of angry curses as the traveling coach slowed still further.
“Damnation.” Applegate frowned. “Some fool is forcing us to the side of the road.”
Lady Youngstreet’s eyes widened Wearily. “Perhaps we are being stopped by a highwayman.”
Fry scowled at her. “Never knew of a highwayman who used a phaeton.”
“It is St. Justin,” Harriet announced calmly. “I told you he would be along as soon as he realized what was happening.”
“St. Justin?” Fry looked stunned. “The devil you say. He’s found us?”
“Nonsense. Told no one what was up tonight. He could not possibly have found us.” Lady Youngstreet took a deep swallow from the brandy bottle and winked slyly.
“Well, he has,” Harriet said. “Just as I knew he would.”
Applegate looked rather pale, but he squared his shoulders resolutely. “Do not be afraid, Harriet. I will protect you from him.”
Harriet was alarmed by that bold statement. The last thing she needed now was a display of heroics from Applegate. She knew Gideon would not react well to that.
The traveling coach had come to a complete halt. Harriet could hear the coachman speaking in surly tones to Gideon, demanding to know what this was all about.
“I will not detain you long,” Gideon said. “I believe you have something on board that belongs to me.”
Harriet heard the ring of his boots on the pavement, a sure sign he was not in a good mood. She gave her companions a warning look.
“Please listen very closely,” Harriet told the others. “You must allow me to deal with St. Justin, do you understand?”
Applegate gave her an appalled look. “I will certainly not let you face the Beast alone. What sort of man do you think I am?”
The coach door was thrown open. “A good question, Applegate,” Gideon said in a dark, menacing voice. He stood there looking thoroughly dangerous. His black greatcoat flowed around him like a sorcerer’s cloak. The interior lamps of the coach illuminated his scarred face.
“There you are, St. Justin,” Harriet said gently. “I was wondering when you would catch up with us. I vow, I have had a most pleasant drive. Lovely evening, is it not?”
Gideon’s gaze raked the occupants of the coach one by one and came to rest on Harriet. “And have you had enough of taking the evening air, my dear?” he asked.
“Quite enough, thank you.” Harriet picked up her reticule and made to step out of the coach.
“Do not move, Miss Pomeroy,” Applegate commanded bravely. “I will not let this blackguard touch you. I shall defend you with every drop of my blood.”
“And it will be my pleasure to assist Lord Applegate in protecting you, m’dear,” Fry announced loudly. “We shall both defend you with every drop of Applegate’s blood.”
“A pair of drunken fools,” Gideon muttered. His big hands closed around Harriet’s waist. He lifted her easily out of the coach.
“Stop that. Stop that, right now. I will not allow it.” Lady Youngstreet threw her reticule at Gideon’s chest. It bounced back onto the floor of the coach. “Put her back, you monster. You shall not take her.”
“I say. We are saving her from you,” Fry explained.
Harriet groaned. “Oh, dear. I knew this was going to be awkward.”
“It is going to be a bit more than awkward, Harriet.” Gideon started to close the coach door.
“Now, see here,” Applegate sputtered, shoving the door open again. He glowered boldly at Gideon. “You cannot just take her off like that.”
“Who is going to stop me?” Gideon asked softly. “You, perhaps?”
Applegate looked exceedingly stalwart. “I most certainly will. I am devoted to Miss Pomeroy’s welfare. I have taken it upon myself to protect her and I shall do so.”
“Hear, hear. Go to it, boy,” Lord Fry roared drunkenly. “Don’t let the Beast get his paws on her. Protect her with your life’s blood, Applegate. I’ll be right behind you all the way.”
“So will I,” Lady Youngstreet declared in ringing, if slightly slurred tones.
“Bloody hell,” Gideon muttered.
Applegate ignored the drunken duo. He leaned forward and spoke through the open doorway. “I am serious, St. Justin. I will not allow you to take Miss Pomeroy off like this. I demand that you cease and desist at once.”
Gideon smiled his slow, cold smile, the one that showed his teeth and twisted his scar. “Rest assured, Applegate, you will have every opportunity to protest when I demand satisfaction for this affair.”
Applegate blinked several times as realization dawned on him. Then he flushed darkly. But he did not back down. “As you wish, sir. I am prepared to accept your challenge. Miss Pomeroy’s honor is worth more to me than my life.”
“It had better be,” Gideon said, “because that is exactly what we are talking about. Your life. I assume you will choose pistols? Or are you the old-fashioned type? It has been a while since I used a rapier, but I distinctly recall winning my last bout.”
Applegate’s eyes darted to the scar on Gideon’s face. He swallowed heavily. “Pistols will suit me very well.”
“Excellent,” Gideon murmured. “I shall see if I can procure a couple of seconds. There are always a few gentlemen hanging about the tables at the clubs who delight in this sort of thing.”
“Good God.” Fry was suddenly struck very nearly sober. “Are we talking about a duel here? I say, that’s carrying matters a bit too far.”
“What’s this? A challenge?” Lady Youngstreet peered at Gideon. “Now, see here. There was no harm done. We were just trying to save the gel.”
Applegate’s expression was stoic. “I am not afraid of you, St. Justin.”
“I am delighted to hear it,” Gideon said. “Perhaps you will change your mind when we meet at dawn in a few days’ time.”
Harriet realized this nonsense was turning dangerous. She stepped forward quickly and put a restraining hand on Gideon’s arm. “That is quite enough, St. Justin,” she said crisply. “You are not to terrify my friends, do you understand?”
Gideon slanted a glance down at her. “Your friends?”
“Of course they are my friends. I would not be with them if they were not. They meant well. Now stop this silly talk of a challenge. There will be no duel over a matter that amounts to no more than a mere misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding,” Gideon rasped. “I would call a kidnapping something more than a misunderstanding.”
“There was no kidnapping,” Harriet told him. “And I will not countenance a duel, is that quite clear?”
Applegate lifted his chin. “It is all right, Miss Pomeroy. I do not mind dying on your behalf.”
“Well, I mind,” Harriet said. She smiled at him through the coach window. “You are very kind, Lord Applegate. And very brave. But I simply cannot allow anyone to engage in a duel over what amounted to nothing more than a ride in the country.”
Lady Youngstreet perked up. “Exactly. Ride in the country. That’s all it was.”
Fry looked doubtful. “Trifle more than a jaunt, my dear. We were going to get the gel married, if you will recall.”
Harriet paid no attention to Lord Fry. She looked up into Gideon’s scowling face. “Let us be on our way, St. Justin. It is getting late. We must allow my friends to start back to town.”
“Yes, indeed,” Lady Youngstreet said quickly. “Must be off.” She seized Fry’s walking stick and rapped the roof of the coach. “Turn around,” she called loudly. “And be quick about it.”
The coachman, who had been listening to the proceedings with an air of boredom, took a last nip at his own bottle and picked up the reins. He
guided the horses into a wide turn and the heavy coach moved ponderously off down the road toward London.
Applegate sat gazing wistfully through the window at Harriet until the vehicle rounded a curve and disappeared from sight.
“Well, then,” Harriet said cheerfully as she straightened her bonnet. “That’s over and done. We should no doubt be off ourselves, my lord. I vow it is going to be a long drive back to Town.”
Gideon caught her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up so that she could not hide her eyes beneath the bonnet rim. It was almost dark, but Harriet could see his grim expression quite clearly.
“Harriet, do not for one minute allow yourself to believe that this matter is over and done,” Gideon said.
She bit her lip. “Oh, dear. I had a feeling you would be somewhat annoyed.”
“That is putting it mildly.”
“The thing is,” she assured him, “it really was nothing more than an inconvenience for all concerned. My friends meant no harm. I admit you have been put to a great deal of trouble and I am sorry for it, but nothing happened that required you to threaten Applegate in that odious fashion.”
“Damnation, woman. He tried to run off with you.”
“And he was very careful to bring along a pair of chaperones. You cannot fault him when it comes to observing the proprieties.”
“Bloody hell, Harriet—”
“Even if he had succeeded in getting me all the way to Gretna Green, which is highly unlikely, nothing dreadful would have occurred. We would simply have turned around and come back again.”
“I cannot believe I am standing around on the open road debating this with you.” Gideon took Harriet’s arm and drew her to the waiting phaeton. “The man had every intention of making a runaway marriage with you.” He tossed Harriet lightly up onto the seat.
Harriet adjusted her skirts as Gideon vaulted up beside her and picked up the reins. “Surely, my lord, you do not believe I would have actually married Applegate. I am engaged to you.”
Gideon gave her an oblique look as he turned his team back toward London, driving them rather slowly. “That fact did not deter your friends from trying to rescue you from my clutches.”