Ravished

  Harriet looked up. “To tell you the truth, I find my work something of a refuge these days.”

  “Hah. If I were you, I would be busy planning my trousseau. Just think, Harriet, you are going to be a countess.”

  “Viscountess.”

  “Oh, well, for the present, yes. But someday, when St. Justin’s father dies, you will become the Countess of Hardcastle. Just imagine. Do you realize how this changes my life?”

  Harriet’s brows rose. “Your life?”

  “Well, of course. I am no longer under so much pressure to marry well. If and when I do get to London, I shall be able to enjoy myself rather than hunt for a suitable husband. What a relief.”

  Harriet put down her quill and sat back in her chair. “I had not realized you felt under pressure, Felicity.”

  “Of course I did. I knew you and Aunt Effie were counting on me to make a good marriage and thereby secure my future.” Felicity smiled happily. “And I would have done my duty, of course, if it had been necessary. After all, I do not want to be a burden. But now I am free.”

  Harriet massaged her temples. “I am sorry. I never realized how you felt about our plans. I just assumed that if we got you to London you would attract any number of excellent suitors and you would be able to fall in love with one of them.”

  “I seriously doubt that love goes hand in hand with practicality very often,” Felicity said dryly.

  “I suppose you are right. Just look at the situation in which I find myself.”

  “What is wrong with your situation? If you ask me, it looks very pleasant, indeed. You are extremely fond of St. Justin. You cannot deny it. I have seen the expression in your eyes when you speak of him.”

  “I am fond enough of him,” Harriet murmured, thinking that fond was far too bland a word for what she really felt for Gideon. “But there is no getting around the fact that he is offering marriage only because his honor requires it.”

  Felicity scowled. “For heaven’s sake, Harriet. Of course he must marry you, although Mrs. Stone is still predicting he will not. You have been ravished, after all.” She paused meaningfully. “You were, were you not? Not that the actual facts matter, according to Aunt Effie. Appearance is everything.”

  Harriet narrowed her eyes at her sister. “How on earth have you managed to grow up with such an unfortunate lack of delicacy, sister, dear?”

  “I expect it has something to do with the fact that you are my sister and, until now, you have always been very straightforward about most everything. You have no social polish, as Aunt Effie is constantly reminding us.”

  Harriet nodded with grim resignation. “I knew that somehow it would be all my fault. Everything around here lately appears to have been my fault.”

  “Feeling sorry for ourself, are we?”

  “Yes,” Harriet muttered. “If you must know, I am feeling a bit sorry for myself.”

  “If I were you, my dear ruined sister, I would be thanking my lucky stars that the man who ravished me has offered marriage. Do you know what they are saying in the village?”

  “No, and I doubt that I wish to know.”

  “Well, there is a great deal of talk about the capture of the thieves, of course, but people are far more interested in your situation.”

  Harriet groaned. “I can imagine.”

  “They are saying that history is repeating itself,” Felicity confided with gleeful drama. “They are claiming that the Beast of Blackthorne Hall has ravished another young, innocent rector’s daughter who will soon find herself cast aside.”

  Harriet frowned. “Do they know St. Justin and I are engaged?”

  “Yes, of course. They simply do not believe he will go through with the marriage. They are convinced you will share poor Deirdre’s fate.”

  “Fustian.” Harriet picked up her quill again and went to work. “The one thing I can be sure of in this unfortunate situation is that I will be married. Not even the demons of hell could stop St. Justin from doing the honorable thing.”

  “Let us hope so. This is all going to be very awkward if he does not.”

  The sound of a horse’s hooves out in the drive intervened before Harriet could respond. Felicity jumped to her feet and went to the window.

  “St. Justin,” Felicity announced. “Where does he purchase his horses? They are true monsters. I wonder what he wants this time? He looks very grim.”

  “That means nothing. He frequently appears grim.”

  Felicity swung around, eyeing her sister’s appearance. “The least you could do is take off that dreadful apron and straighten your cap. Hurry, Harriet. You are going to be a viscountess soon. You must learn to dress accordingly.”

  “I do not think St. Justin notices how I dress.” Nevertheless, Harriet obediently removed her apron and began to fuss with her hair.

  Mrs. Stone’s voice sounded loudly from the hall. “I’ll tell Miss Pomeroy you’ve come calling, sir.”

  “Never mind. I am in a hurry. I shall tell her myself.”

  Harriet turned toward the study door just as it opened. She smiled brilliantly. “Good morning, my lord. We were not expecting you.”

  “I am aware of that.” Gideon did not return the smile. He was dressed in riding clothes and Felicity had been correct about his expression. He did look grim. Even more so than usual. “I am sorry about this, Harriet, but it was either come here myself without notice or send a messenger. I wanted to tell you personally.”

  Harriet eyed him in growing alarm. “What is it, my lord? Is something wrong?”

  “I have received a message that my father has taken a turn for the worse. He has sent for me. I am leaving for Hardcastle House immediately. I do not know when I shall be able to return.”

  Harriet jumped to her feet and hurried over to touch his arm in sympathy. “Oh, Gideon, I am so sorry. I do hope he will recover.”

  Gideon’s expression did not soften. “He usually does. Shortly after I arrive. This is not the first time I have been summoned to his deathbed. But one never knows when it will be the real thing, so I must go.”

  “I understand.”

  “I shall leave you my direction in Hampshire.” He stripped off one leather glove and stepped around her to the desk. Picking up her quill, Gideon jotted some lines on the paper she had been intending to use to sketch the tooth.

  When he was finished, he straightened, folded the foolscap, and thrust it into her hand. His eyes met hers with unspoken meaning. “You will send word to me at once if there is anything I should know about, do you understand?”

  She swallowed uncomfortably, well aware that he was telling her to contact him immediately should she discover she was pregnant. “Yes, my lord. I shall keep you informed.”

  “Excellent. Then I am off.” He pulled on his glove and clamped his hands around her shoulders. Then he drew her close and kissed her with rough urgency.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Felicity watching in amazement. She knew what her sister was thinking. Properly bred gentlemen never kissed ladies in public. It was a typical bit of outrageous behavior from the Beast of Blackthorne Hall.

  Before Harriet could even begin to respond, Gideon released her and strode out of the study. A moment later the outer door closed and the clatter of his stallion’s hooves sounded in the drive.

  Felicity stared at Harriet with wide, interested eyes. “Good heavens. Is that the way he kissed you when he ravished you? I must say, it appeared rather exciting.”

  Harriet sank down into her chair. “Felicity, if you say one more word about that night, I swear I shall throttle you. I advise you to be cautious. Now that you are no longer intending to make a suitable marriage, you are not quite as valuable to this household as you once were.”

  Felicity giggled. “I shall bear that in mind. All the same, it was exceedingly fortunate that Aunt Effie did not witness that farewell kiss.”

  At that moment the study door was flung open once again and Effie swept into the room, her eyes sta
rk with shock.

  “What is this?” she demanded. “St. Justin was here? Mrs. Stone claims he came to tell you he is abandoning you.”

  Harriet sighed. “Calm yourself, Aunt Effie. He is leaving to go to his father, who is apparently dying.”

  “But there has been no formal announcement of the engagement. No notice has been sent to the papers.”

  “There will be plenty of time for the formalities when he returns,” Harriet said quietly.

  Mrs. Stone loomed in the open doorway. Her eyes were alight with vindication. “He will not return,” she whispered darkly. “I knew this would happen. I told you it would happen. But you would not heed my warning. Now he has left. You will not see him again. Poor Miss Harriet will be abandoned to her dreadful fate.”

  Harriet glanced at the housekeeper in alarm. “Mrs. Stone, do not dare have a fit of the vapors. I am in no mood for it.”

  But it was too late. Mrs. Stone’s eyes flickered and she collapsed to the floor.

  The letter from Aunt Adelaide arrived the next morning. Effie opened it at breakfast and read it aloud to Felicity and Harriet with growing excitement.

  My dearest sister and darling nieces:

  I am delighted to tell you that I am done with mourning and solicitors. I have at last taken control of the fortune my miserly husband managed to accumulate and I intend to spend it freely. The Good Lord knows I have earned every penny of it.

  I have taken a house in London for the remainder of the Season and I want all three of you to join me at once. Do not waste a single moment, as the Season will soon be at its height. Leave everything behind. We shall procure new wardrobes for everyone.

  I have drawn up a new will which ensures that Harriet and Felicity will each receive respectable portions upon marriage. In addition, whatever remains of my fortune, should I find I am unable to spend it all before I leave this earth, shall go to my two lovely nieces.

  Yrs,

  Adelaide

  Effie raised her eyes heavenward and clutched the letter to her breast. “We are saved. It is the answer to my prayer.”

  “Good old Aunt Addie,” Felicity said. “She stuck it out and finally got her hands on his money. What a wonderful time we shall have. When do we leave?”

  “At once,” Effie said briskly. “We shall not waste a second. Just imagine. You are both heiresses.”

  “Not quite,” Harriet pointed out. “Aunt Addie says she is going to try to spend what she can of her fortune. Who knows how much will be left over?”

  “No one in London will realize that,” Effie said practically. “All Society will know is that you both have respectable portions. That is what counts.” She glanced at the clock. “I shall send Mrs. Stone into the village to book seats for us on a mail coach. We must begin packing immediately. I want both of you ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “One moment, if you please, Aunt Effie.” Harriet put down her spoon. “This is indeed a wonderful opportunity for Felicity, but I have no need to go to London. Nor do I wish to go. I am just beginning work on an extremely interesting new discovery. So far I have taken out only a tooth, but I am quite hopeful that I shall find more of the creature.”

  Effie put down her coffee cup, her blue-green eyes suddenly intent. “You will accompany us, Harriet, and that is that.”

  “But I just told you, I have no wish to go to Town. You and Felicity will go together. I am certain you will enjoy yourselves immensely. However, I am quite content here in Upper Biddleton.”

  “You,” Effie said very firmly, “do not appear to understand, Harriet. This is a golden opportunity, not only for Felicity, but for you also.”

  “How is that?” Harriet asked, annoyed. “I am already engaged to be married. There is nothing more you can hope to accomplish by taking me to Town.”

  Effie’s expression turned shrewd. “I would have thought,” she said coolly, “that, as you are going to become a viscountess and someday a countess, you would wish to learn how to go on in Society. After all, you would not want to embarrass your husband at some future time, would you?”

  Harriet was taken aback. She had not even considered that aspect of the situation. “The last thing I would ever want to do is embarrass St. Justin,” she admitted slowly. “Heaven knows he has suffered enough humiliation in his life.”

  Effie smiled with satisfaction. “Very well, then, this is your chance to train yourself properly for your new position in life.”

  Felicity grinned. “A perfect opportunity for you to acquire a social polish, Harriet.”

  “But my tooth,” Harriet said desperately. “What about my fossils?”

  “Those fossils have been buried in stone since before the Deluge,” Effie said offhandedly. “They can wait a few more months for you to examine them.”

  Felicity laughed. “She has a point, Harriet. And you are going to be a viscountess. You really should learn something about conducting yourself in Society. Not only for St. Justin’s sake, but for the sake of his family. You will want his parents to approve of you, will you not?”

  “Well, yes. Yes, of course.” Harriet frowned. And then a thought struck her. In London she would have an opportunity to research her tooth. She might be able to discover if it was truly unique. “I suppose I can take a few weeks off to go to Town and gain some polish.”

  “Excellent.” Aunt Effie gave her an approving smile.

  Harriet nodded. “Very well. I will write to St. Justin and tell him what is happening.” She brightened. “Perhaps after this crisis with his father is past, he will be able to join us there.”

  “Perhaps. I would not count on it, however,” Effie said, her eyes craftier than ever. “In fact, my dear, I believe it would be best if we did not say too much about your, uh, engagement.”

  Harriet looked at her in shock. “Not say too much about it? What on earth do you mean by that, Aunt Effie?”

  Effie cleared her throat and delicately patted her lips with her napkin. “The thing is, my dear, there has been no official announcement. As far as we know, St. Justin has not even bothered to send notices to the newspapers as of yet. It would be highly presumptuous of us to do so. So until he takes care of the matter …”

  Harriet lifted her chin. “I believe I am beginning to understand you, Aunt Effie. Mrs. Stone has put some doubts in your brain, has she not? You are not entirely certain but that I have indeed been ravished and abandoned.”

  “It is not just Mrs. Stone who has given me cause to worry,” Effie admitted sadly. “Your fate is all everyone in the village is discussing. The local people who claim they know St. Justin all too well believe he is playing some cruel game. You must admit, this business of him leaving the neighborhood on such short notice does not bode well.”

  “For heaven’s sake, his father is very ill,” Harriet retorted.

  “So he claims,” Effie murmured as Mrs. Stone entered the room with a platter of toast. “But we really do not know that for certain, do we?”

  Harriet glowered at her furiously. “St. Justin would not lie about a thing like that. I begin to see your aim here, Aunt Effie. You are afraid we cannot depend upon St. Justin to do the proper thing.”

  “Well …”

  “You are hoping we can go to London and pretend that nothing has happened. Do you expect to be able to hide the fact that I am engaged to him? Or conceal the rumors about what happened here in the caves?”

  Effie gave her a steely look. “You are an heiress now, Harriet. There is much that can be hushed up because of that. Furthermore, the rumors of your ravishment may not follow us to London. Upper Biddleton is very far removed from Society.”

  “I will not allow you to hush up my engagement,” Harriet declared. “It is a fact, whether you believe it or not. I will go to London in order to learn how to handle myself in Society and for reasons of my own. But I will not step foot out of Upper Biddleton if you think you are going to put me on the Marriage Mart as an innocent young heiress: Even if I w
ere not engaged, I am far too old for that role.”

  “Bravo,” exclaimed Felicity. “Well said, Harriet. I will be the innocent young heiress and you can be the older woman of mystery. And the beauty of it all is that neither of us will have to work to find husbands. We can simply enjoy ourselves. It is settled, then. We are all going to Town.”

  “I do hope,” Effie said with a pointed look at Felicity, “that we will not find ourselves dealing with any more disastrous incidents such as occurred here in Upper Biddleton. One ruined female in this family is quite enough.”

  Gideon saw the letter addressed to him the minute he walked into the morning room at Hardcastle House. He plucked it off the silver salver that contained the day’s post. He knew before he even broke the seal that the letter was from Harriet. Her handwriting was like everything else about her, full of energy, highly original, and distinctly feminine.

  He realized immediately that the most likely reason for Harriet to be writing to him so soon was to inform him that she feared she was pregnant.

  Gideon was aware of a deep surge of satisfaction and possessiveness at the prospect. He conjured up an image of Harriet rounded and soft with pregnancy and another of her holding his babe in her arms. They were both extremely pleasant pictures.

  He could just imagine Harriet sketching a fossil with one hand while she held an infant to her breast with the other.

  In the beginning Gideon had told himself it would be better if she were not with child. She would have enough to deal with as it was, just facing the prospect of marriage. He knew it was a very unsettling notion for her.

  For his part, Gideon had wanted to put some of the gossip in Upper Biddleton to rest, if possible. For Harriet’s sake, it would have been nice to be able to make it clear to all concerned that there would be no rush to the altar.

  She was, after all, a rector’s daughter.

  But a hasty marriage with a special license was quite acceptable, he decided. It had the decided advantage of making it possible for him to move Harriet straight into his bed. The thought sent a rush of heat through his veins.