by Amanda Quick
“I should think not,” Effie retorted. “This news changes everything. Of course St. Justin must do something.”
“Oh, Harriet,” Felicity breathed. “St. Justin is going to fight a duel over your honor. I think that is terribly romantic.”
“Well, I do not,” Harriet snapped. “I have got to find a way to prevent it.”
“He must love you very much,” Felicity observed, eyes filled with wonder.
Harriet grimaced. “It is not that at all. It is simply that St. Justin takes his honor very seriously.”
“And as you are his wife, your honor is tied to his own,” Felicity said softly.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Harriet straightened with resolve. “But I will find a way to stop this stupid duel. I have already taken steps.”
“Steps?”
“This morning before you arrived I sent for assistance.”
Effie stared at her. “What sort of assistance?”
“St. Justin’s parents,” Harriet said with satisfaction. “I dispatched a note to them informing them that something dreadful was about to happen. I am certain they will help me find a way to end this matter. After all, St. Justin is their only son and heir. They will not want him risking his neck in a duel any more than I do.”
The rumors of the duel and the Quarrel and Harriet’s attack on Rushton were not only titillating the ton. Harriet discovered that afternoon that they were also the talk of the Fossil and Antiquities Society meeting.
Fry and Applegate, both looking solemn and extremely important, assumed the stature of Dashing Men of Action the moment they walked into Lady Youngstreet’s drawing room. Everyone edged close to the duo in hopes of picking up a crumb of information.
“Matter of honor,” Fry declared in grave tones. “Cannot discuss it further, of course. Very serious matter. Very serious indeed.”
“Absolutely cannot talk about it,” Applegate said. “Quite certain you all understand. Can only say St. Justin is dealing with this as a gentleman. Afraid I cannot say the same about the other party involved. Refuses to see us or name his seconds.”
Harriet, who was sitting on the sofa, overheard Applegate’s remark and brightened slightly. She wondered desperately if that meant Morland would manage to find a way to call off the duel. Perhaps he would send his apology to Gideon. She leaned forward, straining to hear more from Applegate.
Unfortunately, Lady Youngstreet chose that moment to sit down beside her. She gave Harriet a droll wink. Harriet realized she had already had a nip of her afternoon sherry.
“Well, well, well, my girl,” Lady Youngstreet said grandly. “That was quite a production you staged last night. Flew at Rushton like a little tigress, you did.”
“He called St. Justin a beast,” Harriet said defensively.
Lady Youngstreet tilted her head thoughtfully to one side. “Do you know, I was never particularly aware of Rushton until lately. Don’t believe he had the blunt go into Society much. But one sees him everywhere these days, doesn’t one?”
“Yes,” Harriet muttered. “One does.”
The more people talked about the duel, the more ominous and inevitable it all became. It was clear to Harriet that her campaign to change Gideon’s mind by refusing to speak to him was not working. She wondered gloomily if she should drop the tactic.
He did not even seem to notice her anger.
That afternoon when he helped her mount her beautiful new mare, he conducted a pleasant, one-sided conversation just as if Harriet were responding normally.
“Well, then, what do you think of her? The two of you make an excellent pair.” Gideon tossed Harriet lightly up onto the saddle and then stepped back to admire the sight of her perched on the mare. He nodded his satisfaction. “Stunning, in fact.”
Harriet, dressed in a ruby red habit with a perky red hat on her thick hair, could hardly keep silent. The little Arabian was truly beautiful. Harriet had never in her life ridden such an elegant horse. She patted the sleek neck in wonder.
Gentle, intelligent, and well-mannered, the mare pranced cheerfully along beside Gideon’s massive bay stallion. The Arabian was clearly not the least intimidated by the bay’s size.
Harriet was acutely aware of the stares as they rode into the park. She knew she and Gideon probably made a riveting couple, not only because of the gossip that surrounded them, but because of the picture they made together on horseback. A knight astride his destrier on an outing with his lady on her palfrey, she thought whimsically.
Harriet was so struck by the image that she almost broke her vow of silence to tell Gideon about it. Her lips parted on the words and then she firmly sealed them.
Gideon smiled blandly. “I know this business of being silent must be extremely hard on you, my dear. And completely unnecessary. You have said yourself I am inordinately stubborn. You are not likely to change my mind with your silence.”
Harriet glowered at him and knew he was right. The man was impossibly stubborn. She gave up the campaign of silence with a sense of relief mixed with annoyance.
“You are correct, my lord,” she said crisply. “You are extremely stubborn. But you do have excellent taste in horses.” She smiled happily down at her beautiful mare.
“Thank you, my dear,” Gideon said humbly. “It is always nice to know one is useful for some purpose.”
“I have a great many purposes for you, my lord. But you will not be of any use to me at all if you get yourself killed in this stupid duel.” She turned to him impulsively. “Gideon, you must not go through with this thing.”
Gideon’s mouth curved. “You are certainly persistent, madam. I will tell you once again there is nothing to concern you in this. Everything is under control. Try to have some trust in your poor husband.”
“It is not a question of trust, it is a question of common sense.” Harriet gazed straight ahead over her mare’s ears. “Allow me to tell you that you are not displaying any at the moment.” A sudden thought struck her. “Gideon, is there something going on here I do not know about? Are you by any chance concocting one of your mysterious schemes?”
“I have a plan, my dear. I usually do. That is all I am prepared to say at the moment.”
“Tell me about it,” Harriet demanded.
“No,” said Gideon.
“Why not? I am your wife. You can trust me.”
“It is not a matter of trust.” Gideon smiled briefly. “It is a matter of common sense.”
Harriet frowned at him. “You do not think I can keep a secret? I am insulted, sir.”
“It is not that, my dear. It is just that in this instance, I am convinced it would be best if no one besides myself knew what was planned.”
“But you have taken Applegate and Fry into your confidence,” Harriet protested.
“Only partially into my confidence. Forgive me, my sweet. But I am accustomed to dealing with things on my own. It is an old habit.”
“You have a wife now,” she reminded him.
“Believe me, I am well aware of that.”
Two evenings later when Harriet entered the Lambs-dales’ ballroom, she heard the buzz of anticipation and knew she was in for more of the maddening gossip. It was starting to make her frantic.
There had been no sign of Gideon’s parents yet. She was beginning to wonder if her message had gone awry or if the animosity between Gideon and his father was so great that the earl would not deign to come to his son’s assistance even in a matter of life and death. Or perhaps the earl was not feeling well enough to travel.
There were all sorts of explanations, but the end result was that she was dealing with the disaster of the impending duel alone.
And she was making absolutely no progress trying to break down Gideon’s stubborn, autocratic insistence on handling the thing by himself.
Harriet was standing with a small group of friends from the Fossils and Antiquities Society when Felicity found her.
“Applegate and Fry have arrived,” Felicity announced. �
��I saw them a moment ago. I believe they are looking for your husband.”
Lady Youngstreet’s eyes took on an air of excitement. “This is it, then. Fry said they were going to track Morland down this afternoon one way or another and force him to agree to a time and place.”
“Oh, dear,” Harriet said, feeling helpless.
“I daresay I have never heard of a duel taking place amid so much publicity before,” one of the other members of the group muttered. “Very odd.”
Sir George, an expert on femurs, looked grave. “They will have to be cautious or the authorities will discover the time and place. Arrests will be made.”
“Good God,” Harriet whispered. She was momentarily staggered by the notion of Gideon in prison.
Felicity patted her arm reassuringly. “Do not worry, Harriet. I do not believe St. Justin would have started this unless he knew how to finish it properly.”
“That is what he keeps saying.” Harriet stood on tiptoe to see if she could spot Gideon. His size usually made it quite easy to find him in a crowd.
He was standing on the far side of the ballroom near the windows. Harriet thought she could just make out the top of Lord Fry’s bald head next to him.
A ripple of conversation washed over the crowd. It began at the far side of the ballroom and crested like a wave in Harriet’s direction.
The murmur of voices grew louder as the wave rolled toward her.
“What is it?” Harriet asked Felicity. “What is going on?”
“I do not know yet. Something has happened.” Felicity waited expectantly.
Sir George assumed a worldly air. “Expect the location has been established. Probably agreed on pistols. No one uses rapiers anymore. Much too old-fashioned.”
“May as well hold the thing in Drury Lane and invite the ton,” Lady Youngstreet observed.
Harriet clutched Felicity’s arm. “What am I going to do? I cannot allow St. Justin to fight this duel.”
“Wait and see what happens,” Felicity advised.
The roar of conversation was closer now, almost upon them. A few words could be heard clearly.
“Left for the Continent …”
“… Not a word to anyone …”
“Even his own staff did not know …”
“A damnable coward …”
“… Always said he was too handsome for his own good. Obviously no backbone in the man …”
Someone leaned over to speak to Lady Youngstreet. Lady Youngstreet listened attentively and then turned to make the announcement to the small group gathered around Harriet. Everyone waited breathlessly.
“Morland has fled to the Continent,” Lady Youngstreet stated. “Packed his bags and vanished in the middle of the night. Did not even inform his staff. His creditors will be pounding on his door in the morning.”
Everyone broke into excited conversation. Harriet felt dazed. She tried to catch Lady Youngstreet’s attention. “Do you mean there will not be a duel?”
“Apparently not. Morland has turned coward and fled,” Lady Youngstreet said. “St. Justin has driven him right out of the country.”
Sir George nodded, looking wise. “Always said St. Justin had plenty of gumption. Had to have it in order to put up with the sort of thing he’s faced during the past few years.”
“Obviously the things that were said about him must have been lies,” Lady Youngstreet declared. “Our Harriet would never have married him if he had not been a man of strong character.”
The other members of the group murmured agreement.
Harriet was so relieved, she barely heard what the others were saying. “Felicity, there is not going to be a duel.”
“Yes, I know.” Felicity laughed. “You can stop quarreling with St. Justin now. It is all over. And if I am not mistaken, I believe your husband has managed to wipe the stain off his honor in the process. Quite remarkable.”
“There never was a stain on his honor,” Harriet said automatically. “It was all just gossip.”
“Yes, well, that is apparently everyone else’s opinion now, too.” Felicity smiled. “Amazing how swiftly Society can do an about-face, is it not? Everyone prefers to back an obvious winner. St. Justin is going to wake up tomorrow morning and discover that he is all the rage.”
But Harriet was no longer listening. She saw the crowd part and realized that Gideon was striding toward her through the huge throng. Several people attempted to speak to him, but Gideon looked neither to the right nor the left. His gleaming gaze was fixed on Harriet and it did not waver as he came to a halt in front of her and took her hand.
“I believe they are about to play a waltz, my dear. Will you favor me with this dance?”
“Oh, Gideon, yes,” Harriet cried softly. She rushed into his arms.
Gideon laughed exultantly as he swept her out onto the dance floor.
A long while later, seated in the carriage on the trip home, Harriet confronted Gideon. It was the first time she had had him alone all evening.
“Is it truly over, Gideon?”
“It would appear so. It took some work for Applegate and Fry to discover what happened to Morland, but they finally tracked down the facts this evening. I think they were quite disappointed to learn that he had fled the country. They had been looking forward to fulfilling all their duties as seconds.”
Harriet eyed him intently. “Tell me, Gideon, is this the way you planned it all along? Did you know Morland would run away rather than face you in a duel?”
Gideon shrugged. “It was a distinct possibility from the start. I knew him to be a coward.”
“You should have told me, Gideon. I have been so worried.”
“I could not be certain it would work out this way. Which was why I did not confide in you, my dear. I did not want to raise your hopes. There was still the chance that I would actually have to meet him and I knew the notion upset you.”
Harriet was torn between relief and anger. “I do wish you would discuss things with me, my lord. It is very annoying to be kept in the dark.”
“I did what I thought was best, Harriet.”
“Your notion of what is best does not always coincide with mine,” she told him forcefully. “You are far too accustomed to acting without bothering with explanations. You must learn to curb that tendency.”
Gideon smiled faintly. “Are you going to spend the rest of the night lecturing me, my dear? Personally, I can think of other things I would rather do.”
Harriet sighed as the carriage came to a halt in front of the townhouse. “If I were not so terribly relieved to know you are safe, I vow, I would lecture you all night and straight through until morning.”
“But I am safe,” Gideon drawled softly as a footman opened the door. “And you are relieved. So we shall skip the lectures and go to bed, hmm?”
Harriet threw him a wry glance as she was handed down. Gideon stepped down behind her, took her arm, and guided her up the steps. He was still smiling.
The door opened and Owl appeared. His dour face looked even more grim than usual. “Good evening, my lady. Your lordship.”
Harriet eyed him warily. “Has someone died, Owl?”
“No, madam.” Owl looked at Gideon. “We have guests.”
“Guests?” Gideon stopped smiling. “Who the hell is paying us a visit at this late hour? I have not extended an invitation to anyone.”
“Your parents have arrived, sir.”
Harriet was delighted. “Wonderful.”
“My parents,” Gideon exploded. His eyes darkened with anger. “Bloody hell. What the devil are they doing here?”
Owl switched his gaze to Harriet. “I am told they received an invitation from Lady St. Justin, sir.”
“Yes, indeed.” Harriet ignored Gideon as he turned on her, his face set in lines of growing fury. “I invited them because I thought they might be able to assist me in stopping the dreadful nonsense with Mr. Morland.”
“You invited them? Without my permission?” Gideo
n asked in a dangerous voice.
“I did what I thought was best, my lord. If you do not confide in me, you cannot expect me to confide every little thing in you.” Harriet hurried past him up the steps to greet her in-laws.
The Earl and Countess of Hardcastle were seated in the library in front of the fire. They had been supplied with a pot of tea. They both glanced up with expressions of alarm and anxiety as Harriet rushed into the library.
The earl glanced first at Harriet and then he looked past her at Gideon. He scowled at his son, who returned the look with an equally fierce expression.
“We received a note,” Hardcastle said gruffly. “Something about events of a dire nature that threatened scandal, bloodshed, and possible murder.”
“Hell,” said Gideon. “Harriet always did have a way with notes.”
Chapter Eighteen
TWO HOURS LATER Gideon kicked open the connecting door between Harriet’s bedchamber and his own and stalked into his wife’s room. He was spoiling for battle.
Harriet sat up in bed against the pillows. She was prepared, more or less, for this confrontation. She was well aware that Gideon had been keeping a tight rein on his temper since the moment they had arrived home to find his parents waiting for them in the library.
Gideon had been civil to the earl and his mother. Barely. He had even given them a brief summary of events which had appeared to stun them.
It was clear that he was not feeling at all civil toward Harriet, however. Everyone had been extremely nervous about that fact except Harriet.
Gideon clamped a hand around the carved bedpost at the foot of the bed. He had undressed except for his breeches. The candlelight highlighted the contoured muscles of his broad shoulders and chest as he loomed in the shadows. His eyes glinted.
“I am not pleased with you, madam,” Gideon said grimly.
“Yes, I can see that, my lord.”
“How dare you take it upon yourself to issue an invitation to my parents?”
“I was desperate. You were running about London making plans for a duel and you would not listen to me. I had to find a way to stop you.”