Page 24 of Ravished


  “Nothing is wrong.”

  “Do not fob me off like that. I know something has happened to turn you surly like this.”

  “According to you I am naturally surly.”

  “Not all the time,” she retorted. “Tell me what has annoyed you, Gideon. Was it the fact that Mr. Morland came by our box at the theater?”

  Gideon moved away from her. He went over to where the brandy sat on the small end table and poured himself another glass. “I will deal with Morland.”

  “Gideon.” Harriet was shocked. “What are you saying?”

  “I am saying I will deal with him.”

  “St. Justin, you listen to me,” Harriet snapped. “Do not dare contemplate the notion of trying to provoke Mr. Morland into a duel. Not for one single moment. Do you understand me? I will not have it.”

  “You are that enamored of him, then?” he drawled.

  “For heaven’s sake, Gideon, you know that is not true. What is wrong with you tonight?”

  “I told you, it might be best if you take yourself off to bed, madam.”

  “I will not be sent off to bed like an errant child while you storm about in here like a great … a great …”

  “Beast?”

  “No, not like a beast,” Harriet yelled. “Like a temperamental, difficult, insensitive husband who does not trust his wife.”

  That stopped him. Gideon stared at her. “I trust you, Harriet.”

  She read that simple truth in his eyes and a part of her that had been very cold grew much warmer. “Well,” she mumbled, “you are most certainly not acting like it.”

  His tawny eyes were almost gold in the firelight. “There is no one else on the face of this earth whom I trust as completely as I trust you. Do not ever forget that.”

  Harriet felt a giddy rush of happiness. “Do you mean that?”

  “I never say anything I do not mean.”

  “Oh, Gideon, that is the nicest thing you have ever said to me.” She rushed across the room and threw herself into his arms.

  “My God, how could you think I did not trust you?” He put down his brandy glass and wrapped her close. “Never doubt it, my sweet.”

  “If you trust me,” she whispered against his chest, “why are you concerned with Mr. Morland?”

  “He is dangerous,” Gideon said simply.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I know him well. He used to call himself my friend. We had, after all, spent a portion of our childhood together. His family lived near Blackthorne Hall for some years while we were growing up. They eventually moved away. I met Morland again in London when I came down from university. He still called himself my friend, even after he slashed my face open with a fencing blade.”

  Harriet went still. She raised her head, eyes widening. She touched his scarred cheek with gentle fingers. “Morland did this to you?”

  “It was an accident. Or so he claimed at the time. We were both much younger then. Mayhap a bit wild. In any event, we had too much wine one night and Morland challenged me to a fencing match. I accepted.”

  “Dear heaven,” Harriet breathed.

  “We did not have masks to protect our faces, but there were protective tips on the ends of the blades. Several of our friends cleared a space on the floor and took bets. The agreement was that the first one who got through the other’s guard was the winner.”

  “What happened?”

  Gideon shrugged. “It was all over in a few short minutes. Morland was not a particularly good fencer. I won, knocking his blade aside. Then I stepped back and lowered my guard. But he picked up his rapier and lunged forward suddenly without warning. The protective tip on the point of the sword had somehow come off and the blade sliced open my jaw.”

  “Gideon. He could have killed you.”

  “Yes. I have often wondered if that was his intention. There was something in his eyes during those few seconds. I saw it when he came at me. He hated me in that instant, but I do not know why.”

  “How did he explain lunging at you after he had lost?”

  “He claimed later that he had not realized I had been judged the winner. He assumed the match was not yet ended, that I was retreating.”

  “And the fact that his blade was unprotected? How did he account for that?”

  “An accident.” Gideon shrugged. “In the heat of the match, he had not realized the protective device had fallen off. It was a logical explanation, as it happens all the time.”

  “What did you do?”

  Gideon was quiet for a moment. “I saw the fury in his eyes and I reacted instinctively. I fought back as if the match had suddenly become a real one. Morland was so startled, he lost his balance and fell to the floor. I dropped my blade and picked up his. I held the bare point to his throat. He started screaming that it had all been an accident.”

  “And you believed him?”

  “What other explanation was there? We had both had too much wine. I told myself it had to have been an accident. Morland was my friend. But I could never forget the look in his eyes when he had lunged at me.”

  “You remained friends?”

  “After a fashion. He apologized later and I accepted the apology. I told myself it was over. I knew I would be scarred for life, but I also knew it was my own fault for agreeing to the stupid challenge in the first place.”

  “He claims he is the only one who stood by you when you were accused of abandoning Deirdre.”

  Gideon smiled his humorless smile. “And so he was. But as he had been the one who seduced her and got her with child in the first place, and as he was married at the time, he probably assumed it would be in his favor to pose as my friend. It made him appear completely innocent.”

  Harriet lifted her head, her eyes widening in shock. “Morland was the man who seduced her?”

  “Yes. Deirdre admitted it that night when she came to see me. But there was never any way to prove it later after her death.” Gideon’s mouth twisted. “It would have been extremely helpful if Deirdre had bothered to leave a note that night before she shot herself. But Deirdre was never particularly thoughtful of others. She probably did not care if I took the blame for her suicide.”

  Harriet shuddered at the raw pain and frustrated anger in Gideon’s voice. “Gideon, you do not still love her, do you?”

  “Good God, no.” He looked down at her in glowering amazement. “I was convinced I loved her when I offered for her. Looking back, I think I was merely dazzled by her beauty and the fact that such a beautiful creature apparently wanted me. But whatever I felt for Deirdre Rushton died the night she told me she had accepted my suit only because her father forced her to do so and that she was pregnant with another man’s child. She told me she hated the very sight of me.”

  “Oh, Gideon.” Harriet tightened her arms around his waist. “She sounds like a very desperate woman. She was very young and she no doubt thought herself in love with Morland. She knew she could never have him and she resented being forced to marry a man she did not love. She blamed you for her problems.”

  “You do not need to make excuses for her,” Gideon muttered.

  “I just want you to realize that she probably did not hate you at all. She simply felt trapped and she took out her fear and frustration on you.”

  “She has certainly had her revenge on me, if that is what she was after,” Gideon said.

  “Yes, I know. You have been living in your own private corner of hell for six long years.”

  “That is a rather dramatic way of putting it, but not entirely untrue,” Gideon said dryly. “I do know that I have been very much alone for the past six years.”

  Harriet smiled tremulously. “But not any longer. Now you have me.”

  “Now I have you.” Gideon lifted his hands to touch her hair. “And I vow I shall take very good care of you, Harriet.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I promise to take excellent care of you, too.”

  “Will you, indeed?” His leonine eyes gleamed
with a warm fire.

  “Oh, yes. You are wrong to think that I am more fond of my fossils than I am of you.” She stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth against his. “It is true I am very attached to them, but I care far more for you, my lord.”

  Gideon smiled slowly. “I am very pleased to hear that.”

  He scooped her up into his arms as if she were as light as a feather. Gideon made her feel like a delicate princess from a fairy tale, Harriet thought.

  He put her down in the center of his bed and lay down beside her. “Perhaps you will show me just which portions of my anatomy you consider equal to or more impressive than the old bones you collect, madam.”

  Harriet laughed up at him in the shadows. “It is a very long list.”

  “Then you can start from my toes and work up.”

  “With pleasure.”

  She pushed at him gently and Gideon obligingly rolled over onto his back. Then she knelt beside him and studied his large feet with a serious expression.

  “I would have to say that I have rarely encountered fossil metatarsals of such size.”

  “I am flattered.” Gideon watched her face in the firelight.

  “And one seldom is lucky enough to find a tibia of such proportions.” Harriet drew a finger slowly upward along the inside of his lower leg. “Very impressive.”

  “I am relieved to hear I compare favorably in that portion of my anatomy.”

  “Definitely,” she assured him. Her fingers drifted up over his knee and along the inside of his thigh. “And other than the femur of an elephant I once had the privilege of examining, I have never seen such a magnificent thigh bone.”

  Gideon sucked in his breath as her palm drifted higher, opening his black silk dressing gown to expose his thighs. “I am glad you appreciate it.”

  “I most certainly do, my lord.” She bent her head and dropped a tiny, damp kiss on his upper leg. The crisp, curling hair tickled her nose. The masculine scent of him made her deeply aware of her own growing arousal. She touched his thick shaft. “Now we come to a most interesting discovery.”

  “Do not tell me you have found fossils of that particular anatomical item,” Gideon said.

  “No,” Harriet admitted. “But this is certainly as hard as any fossil I have ever dug out of stone.”

  “Ah.” Gideon breathed deeply as she caressed him.

  Harriet saw that the muscles of his thighs and chest were rapidly growing rigid with sexual tension. Stroking him was like stroking steel. The power in him was mesmerizing.

  “Had I ever discovered something of this nature,” Harriet murmured as she circled him with her fingertips, “I would have most certainly written it up for the Transactions.”

  Gideon’s laugh was mostly a groan of rising frustration. “I do not think I am going to survive this lesson. Come here, madam. I am going to bury a certain portion of my anatomy in your heat before it solidifies into a permanent fossil due to sheer frustration.”

  Harriet smiled as he reached for her and pulled her across his body. She found herself sitting astride him. The feel of his strong thighs cradled between hers was exciting. She could feel his manhood throbbing beneath her. It made her vividly aware of her own power as a woman.

  She leaned forward, pushing his dressing gown aside so that she could splay her fingers across his wide chest. Then she dipped her head and brushed her tongue across his flat nipples.

  “So good,” Gideon breathed. “So damn good.”

  He put his hands on her knees and moved his palms slowly up the inside of her thighs. He found her softness, drawing forth the liquid heat. Then he slowly slid one finger inside her, testing her readiness.

  “Gideon.” Harriet arched her head back, her whole body taut as it reacted to the delicious invasion.

  “Put me inside you,” he whispered in a low growl. “Put your hands on me and guide me into you.”

  She reached down with trembling fingers and found him. Then she levered herself upward on her knees and sank back down very slowly. He entered her carefully, letting her set the pace.

  She felt herself being stretched and filled. It was an exquisitely thrilling sensation. It always was. She took her time guiding him into her so that she could savor every inch of him.

  And then Gideon was all the way inside and they were bound together in the way only a man and a woman could be. Harriet surrendered once more to the unique joy of being in Gideon’s strong arms.

  She did not think of Bryce Morland or of the terrible things he had done to Gideon for a long, long while. When Harriet awoke some time later and did remember the dreadful tale, she discovered that Gideon was sound asleep beside her.

  Harriet thought about waking him to remind him again that he was not to deliberately provoke Bryce. But Gideon was sleeping so peacefully that Harriet decided to wait until morning.

  When she awakened again in the morning, however, Gideon was gone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  TATTERSALL’S WAS ALREADY CROWDED when Gideon walked into the yard that morning. Not that the place was not usually busy, especially on sale days such as today. As the exclusive auctioneers of the finest bloodstock in London, it attracted the gentlemen of the ton the way candy attracted children. There was an unceasing competition among all who could afford it, as well as many who could not, for the most spectacular mounts.

  Part of the yard was covered with a roof that was supported by a classic colonnade. Gideon propped a shoulder against one of the tall columns and watched idly as a hunter was led past the crowd of potential purchasers. He was not here to buy a hunter.

  A handsome pair of bay coach horses was displayed next. They were beautifully matched in color, but Gideon did not think they looked particularly deep in the chest. Looks meant nothing in a coach horse. Stamina and wind were everything. Besides, he was not in the market for coach horses today, either.

  Gideon lost interest in the bays and studied the crowd. He was almost certain he would find his quarry here. Some subtle inquiries at his club last night had revealed that Bryce Morland would be attending the auction this morning.

  A moment later Gideon picked him out of the throng. Morland was standing at the far end of the colonnade, talking to a plump man in an ill-fitting coat.

  Gideon unpropped himself from the column and started in Morland’s direction.

  At that moment a groom appeared with the next offering, a beautiful little dappled gray Arabian mare. Gideon hesitated, a sudden image of Harriet seated atop the pretty little gray appearing in his mind.

  He stopped and took a closer look at the mare. She had a sleek, compact build that promised strength and endurance. The small ears looked sensitive and alert. The intelligent eyes were wide-set in the mare’s beautifully sculpted head. Harriet would appreciate intelligence in a horse.

  Gideon was studying the animal’s dainty feet when Morland spoke behind him.

  “Not exactly your style, is she, St. Justin? You’d do better with one of those great, hulking brutes you usually favor. Something you cannot crush when you climb on top of her.”

  Gideon did not look at him. He kept his attention on the mare. “I am pleased you are here today, Morland. I wanted to have a word with you.”

  “Did you? Most unusual.” Morland’s tone was taunting. “You have barely spoken to me at all in the past six years.”

  “We have not had anything to discuss.”

  “And now we do?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. I am going to give you a warning, Morland. I trust you will pay attention to it.”

  “And if I do not?”

  “Then you shall find yourself dealing with me.” Gideon liked the saucy arch of the mare’s tail and the proud way she carried herself. Something about the horse’s air of vitality and enthusiasm reminded him of Harriet.

  “Are you by any chance attempting to threaten me?” Morland asked mockingly.

  “Yes.” Gideon studied the mare’s sturdy hindquarters. Plenty of strength there, he deci
ded. She could go the distance. “I want you to stay away from my wife.”

  “You bloody son of a bitch.” Morland’s voice lost its taunting quality. Now it seethed with rage. “Who the hell do you think you are to issue warnings?”

  “I am St. Justin,” Gideon said softly. “The Beast of Blackthorne Hall. As you are in part responsible for that title, you should be wise enough to respect it.”

  “You are threatening me because you know that if I set out to take your little Harriet away from you, I can do it. You know full well she would come to me if I but beckoned her with my little finger.”

  “No,” Gideon said, his eyes still on the mare. “She would not go to you.”

  “If you are so certain of that, why bother to issue threats?” Morland demanded.

  “Because I do not want her to be bothered by you, Morland.” Gideon signaled to the groom who was leading the mare. “Now, you must excuse me. I am going to buy a horse.”

  Gideon strolled away from Morland without having once looked at him. He was well aware that that silent insult would be more grating to Morland than the threat itself.

  * * *

  Gideon returned home that afternoon to tell Harriet about the mare, only to learn that she had gone off to tour Mr. Humboldt’s Museum. He would have to wait to surprise her with the announcement of his gift. It annoyed him. He realized he had been looking forward eagerly to her reaction.

  Gideon scowled at Owl. Owl scowled back.

  “Mr. Humboldt’s Museum?” Gideon repeated.

  “Yes, my lord. She seemed quite excited about the whole thing. Lord knows why. I cannot imagine anything at all exciting about a collection of moldering old bones.”

  “You shall have to accustom yourself to Lady St. Justin’s enthusiasm for such matters, Owl.”

  “So I have concluded.”

  Gideon started toward the library and then paused. “Did she remember to take her maid or one of the footmen with her?”

  “No. But I saw to the matter, sir. Her maid is with her.”

  “Excellent. I knew I could depend upon you, Owl.” Gideon continued to the door of the library. “I am expecting a visit from Mr. Dobbs this afternoon. Please show him in when he arrives.”