Ravished (20 page)

There was a collective gasp of dismay from the small group. Gideon's eyes hardened dangerously.

Harriet held up a hand. "That is quite enough," she said sharply. "I do not know who you are, sir, but I assure you I grow extremely weary of these accusations concerning his lordship's previous engagement. I should think that everyone would realize that there is only one reason why St. Justin would have called off his plans for marrying Deirdre Rushton."

The stranger swung his hot gaze back to her. "Is that so, Miss Pomeroy?" he whispered harshly. "And just what would that reason be, pray tell?"

"Why, that the poor girl was pregnant with some other man's babe, of course," Harriet said briskly. She was getting thoroughly annoyed with the malicious gossip. "Good grief, I would have thought anyone could have seen that right from the start. It is the logical explanation."

Silence gripped the onlookers. The intense stranger gave Harriet a wrathful glare that was clearly designed to dispatch her to perdition.

"If you truly believe that, Miss Pomeroy," he whispered thickly, "then I pity you. You are, indeed, a fool."

The man turned and stormed off through the throng. Everyone else with the exception of Gideon was gazing at Harriet in open-mouthed fascination.

Gideon's expression reflected an almost savage satisfaction. "Thank you, my dear," he said very softly.

Harriet frowned after the stranger's retreating figure. "Who was that gentleman?"

"The Reverend Clive Rushton," Gideon said. "Deirdre's father."

Chapter Ten

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"I have never seen the like." Adelaide, still dressed in her wrapper, picked up her cup of hot chocolate. "I vow, the tale will be all over Town this morning. Everyone will be discussing the setdown Harriet gave Rushton."

Effie closed her eyes in resignation and groaned. "They will be gossiping about that scene even as they read the announcement of her engagement in the morning papers. Dear heaven, I cannot even imagine what they will all think. For an innocent young woman to be talking about such things right in the middle of a ballroom. It is beyond anything."

"I am not precisely innocent, Aunt Effie." Harriet, who was sitting in the corner of Adelaide's morning room, looked up from a recent copy of the
Transactions of the Royal Society of Geology
.

"Well, we are doing our best to pass you off as such," Adelaide pointed out.

Harriet made a face. "I do not know what all the fuss is about. I merely brought up what seems a perfectly obvious fact that appears to have been overlooked by everyone."

"You and your logical approach," Adelaide said grimly. "I assure you, the fact that Deirdre Rushton was pregnant when she died was not overlooked by anyone. I have heard more than enough about it since word got out that you were engaged to St. Justin."

"I meant the fact that the babe was someone else's. It most definitely was not Gideon's." Harriet went back to her
Transactions
.

"How can you be so bloody certain of that?" Adelaide demanded.

"Because I am quite certain that Gideon's sense of honor is equal to that of any other gentleman's of the
ton
. In fact, I will wager that it is probably considerably more developed than most. He would have done the right thing if the babe had been his own."

"I simply do not know how you can be so sure of him," Effie said with a sigh. "We can only hope you are correct in your assumptions about his honor."

"I am." Harriet picked up a piece of toast and munched enthusiastically as she continued to scan the pages of the
Transactions
. "By the bye, he will be calling at five this afternoon. We are to go driving in the park."

"He could at least allow the gossip generated by your scene with Rushton last night to die down before taking you into the park. The whole world goes driving in the park at five. Everyone will see you," Effie muttered.

"That is the whole point, if you ask me." Felicity grinned knowingly at her sister as she walked into the morning room. "I do believe St. Justin is intent on putting Harriet on display wherever and whenever possible. Rather like an exotic pet he has brought back from some distant land."

"
A pet
." Effie looked scandalized.

"Dear heaven," Adelaide breathed. "What a notion."

Harriet looked up from her journal, sensing that her sister was not joking. "What do you mean by that, Felicity?"

"Is it not obvious?" Felicity helped herself to toast and eggs from the sideboard. She looked bright and vivacious in her yellow gown. "You are the only creature alive that we know of who actually believes in the possibility of St. Justin's honor. You are also the only one who thinks he might be innocent of ravishing and abandoning poor Deirdre Rushton."

"He
is
innocent of ravishing and abandoning her," Harriet retorted automatically. Then she grew thoughtful, remembering Gideon's expression last night when she had argued with Rushton. "You may be right about this matter of putting me on display, however."

"One can hardly blame him, I suppose. The temptation to show off your touching faith in the Beast of Blackthorne Hall must be quite irresistible." Felicity smiled.

"I have told you not to refer to him by that dreadful name," Harriet said, but she spoke absently. Her mind was busily turning over what Felicity had just said. There was the sad ring of truth in it. Harriet knew she ought to have seen it for herself.

Gideon was naturally going to gain what satisfaction he could from this marriage which he had never wanted in the first place. Who could blame him?

He certainly showed no signs of falling in love with her, Harriet told herself. In actual fact, he had said nothing at all of love to her. Nor had he asked for any love from her. He had sounded merely curious last night when he had asked if she had some affection for him.

Harriet knew her belief in his honor was probably far more important to Gideon than any protestation of love. It was no doubt all that was important to him. He had lived too long in the shadow of dishonor.

Harriet watched as Felicity sat down at the table and began to eat with a hearty appetite. Night after night of virtually continuous dancing had given her sister a strong interest in breakfast lately.

Adelaide glanced at Effie over the rim of her cup. "Well, we have no choice but to put a brave front on the entire affair. As long as St. Justin himself is proclaiming the engagement, we are all safe. With any luck we shall contrive to get through the remainder of the Season before anything
unexpected
occurs."

Harriet made a face as she closed her journal. "I assure you nothing unexpected is going to occur, Aunt Adelaide. St. Justin will not allow it." She glanced at the clock. "If you will excuse me, I must dress I am to attend a meeting of the Fossils and Antiquities Society this afternoon."

Effie gave her a sharp glance. "I noticed that you have become very good friends with a few of the members of the Society, my dear. I rather like young Lord Applegate. Very well connected to the Marquess of Asherton, you know. Recently come into a considerable inheritance along with his title."

Harriet smiled wryly. "I am already engaged, Aunt Effie, if you will recall. To an earl, no less."

"How can one forget?" Effie said with a sigh.

"There was a time," Harriet reminded her, "when you would cheerfully have killed for the chance to marry either Felicity or me off to an earl."

"It is just that I am not entirely certain I am going to get you married off to this particular earl," Effie responded dolefully.

The moment Harriet walked into Lady Youngstreet's drawing room, she was aware of the speculation and concern in the expressions of the other members of the Fossils and Antiquities Society. Nothing was said about the previous night's drama at the ball, however, for which she was extremely grateful.

It was a large crowd, as usual, reflecting the growing interest in fossils and geology. When everyone was seated, the members plunged immediately into a discussion of some fossil forgeries which had recently been exposed at a quarry site in the north.

"I am not at all surprised to hear about it," Lady Youngstreet announced. "It has happened before and will undoubtedly happen again. It is a familiar pattern. The quarry workmen soon learn there is a keen market for any sort of unusual fossils they happen to turn up in the course of their work. When they can no longer dig up enough to suit the demand, they turn to manufacturing them for collectors."

"I have heard they set up a virtual workshop at the quarry site." Lord Fry shook his head. "They used bits and pieces of commonly found fossil fishes and other old bones to construct entirely new and different skeletons. The bidding went very high on several of the more original creations. At least two museums purchased forgeries without realizing it."

"I fear our field will continue to give rise to any number of deceptions, frauds, and forgeries," Harriet said as she sipped her tea. "The fascination with what lies buried in the rocks is so strong it will always attract unscrupulous types."

"Unfortunate, but true," Applegate agreed with a world-weary sigh. His warm gaze lingered on Harriet's modestly covered bosom. "You are so very perceptive, Miss Pomeroy."

Harriet smiled. "Thank you, my lord."

Lord Fry cleared his throat pointedly. "I, for one, would most certainly have questioned the forged leaves and fishes that were being sold to all and sundry by the workmen."

"And I would not have been deceived for a moment by the creatures that were half fish and half quadruped," a middle-aged bluestocking declared.

"Nor would I," Lady Youngstreet vowed.

A loud murmur of assent went through the crowded drawing room. The meeting fell into temporary disorder as the various members of the Society broke up into small groups. Everyone gave an opinion on the forgeries and made it clear how he or she would not have been taken in for a moment.

Lord Applegate maneuvered his way closer to Harriet. He gazed down at her with shy admiration. "You are looking very lovely today, Miss Pomeroy," he murmured. "That color of blue suits you."

"You are very kind to say so, Mr. Applegate." Harriet discreetly tugged the skirts of her turquoise-blue gown out from under his thigh.

Applegate blushed furiously as he realized he had sat on a fold of muslin. "I beg your pardon."

"Do not concern yourself." Harriet smiled at him reassuringly. "My gown is quite unharmed. Have you read your copy of the latest
Transactions
, sir? I received mine this morning and I vow there is a most fascinating article on fossil tooth identification."

"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 r 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."