"I see." Crane ran his finger around his high collar. "We are, of course, extremely pleased that you have found time in your busy schedule to visit."

"Plenty of time," Gideon assured him. He sat forward, picked up the ledger, and handed it to Crane. "You may go now. I have spent quite enough of the day on your excellently kept accounts. I find such petty details extremely tiresome."

Crane snatched up the ledger and smiled weakly as he got hastily to his feet. He passed his yellowed handkerchief over his damp forehead one last time. "Yes, my lord. I understand. Very few gentlemen are interested in that sort of thing."

"Precisely. That is why we hire men such as yourself. Good day, Mr. Crane."

"Good day, my lord." Crane hurried to the door and let himself out of the library.

Gideon waited, his gaze on the steady rain outside the window, until the door closed behind the steward. Then he rose and walked around the desk to the small table where the housekeeper had earlier placed a pot of tea.

Gideon poured himself a cup of the strong brew and sipped it slowly. He was in a strange mood and he knew it was because he was back at Hardcastle after so many years of self-imposed exile.

He had made none of the estates his permanent home. He did not feel comfortable at any of them. Instead he moved regularly from one to the other on the pretext of wanting to keep close watch on the lands. But the truth was, he simply needed to keep on the move. He needed to keep busy.

He knew who was to blame for disrupting the relentless round of mind-numbing duties he had assumed five years earlier.

Once again he recalled the scene in the cavern that morning. He pictured Harriet Pomeroy's face when he had withdrawn a fortune in gems from the sack of hidden loot. There had not been so much as a flicker of genuine interest in her eyes, let alone the lust he would have expected. Most women would have been riveted by the sight of a diamond and gold necklace.

Harriet's excitement had been reserved for a chunk of stone that contained a fossil tooth.

And for his kiss, Gideon reminded himself. A wave of heat seized him again, just as it had in the cavern. She had responded to his kiss with the same enthusiasm and sense of wonder that she had exhibited for that damn moldering tooth.

Gideon smiled wryly. He could not decide if he should be flattered or crushed at discovering that he compared favorably with an old fossil.

He started toward the window and paused when he caught sight of himself in the mirror that hung over the hearth. Normally he did not spend much time gazing at his own reflection. It was hardly an edifying sight.

But this afternoon he found himself deeply curious and not a little baffled by just what Harriet saw when she looked at him. Whatever it was, it had not put her off kissing him. And he knew she had not manufactured that sweet, innocent ardor. It had been utterly genuine.

No, for some unfathomable reason, she had not been repulsed by his face. It was his deliberate and ungentle-manly threat to strip her naked and take her there on the floor of the cave that had finally succeeded in making her wary.

Gideon winced at the recollection of his own outrageous behavior. Sometimes he could not help himself. Something within him occasionally drove him to live up to the worst that was expected of him.

Yet in his own way, he had been trying to warn her off, to protect her, although she probably did not comprehend that.

Because he had wanted her. Very badly.

He had probably been a fool to send her into full flight. He should have taken what she had to offer, and the hell with playing the gentleman. No one believed him to be one, so why, after all these years, was he still bothering to play the role in his own graceless fashion?

Gideon could not answer that question to his satisfaction. He called himself a fool one more time and then he forced himself to turn to more important matters. He had a ring of thieves that needed to be apprehended. If he did not attend to the business soon, Harriet would probably try her hand at the job.

At the very least, she would no doubt start nagging him to get on with the job.

The following evening Harriet surveyed the crowd of local country gentry who had gathered for the weekly assembly ball. She and Aunt Effie had been faithfully attending the assemblies for several months now with Felicity in tow. Harriet found them unutterably boring, for the most part.

It had been Aunt Effie's idea to give Felicity as much of a social polish as possible in the event the long-hoped-for invitation to London came from Aunt Adelaide. The local assemblies were the only opportunity provided locally to practice such fine arts as the proper use of the fan. Felicity had a talent for such skills.

Harriet always found her own fan to be a nuisance. It was always in the way.

Tonight's affair was no different from previous such events. Harriet understood the reason Aunt Effie insisted on attending, but she privately was not convinced Felicity was going to pick up a great deal of social polish here in Upper Biddleton.

There was no waltzing, for example. Everyone knew the waltz was now all the rage in London. But here in Upper Biddleton couples were still limited to dancing the cotillion and the quadrille and assorted country dances. The waltz was viewed as shocking by the local ladies of society.

"Quite a good crowd tonight, don't you think?" Aunt Effie fanned herself while she cast an assessing eye around the room. "And Felicity is looking quite the best of them all. She will no doubt dance every dance, as usual."

"No doubt," Harriet agreed. She was seated next to her aunt watching the dancers and she was already sneaking glances at the small watch pinned to her rather staid gown. She tried not to be obvious about it, however. Getting Felicity launched was an all-important task and she was as determined as Aunt Effie to be ready should Felicity's big chance arise.

"I must remind her to exhibit a bit less enthusiasm on the dance floor," Aunt Effie continued with a tiny frown. "One does not show quite so much emotion in Town. It is not done."

"You know how much Felicity enjoys dancing."

"All the same," Aunt Effie said, "she must start practicing a more restrained expression."

Harriet sighed inwardly and hoped the refreshments would be served soon. So far she had not danced once, which was not unusual, and she was looking forward to a break in the monotony. The tea and sandwiches served at the local assemblies were not particularly inspiring, but they did provide a small diversion.

"Gracious, here comes Mr. Venable," Aunt Effie murmured. "Best prepare yourself, my dear."

Harriet glanced up to see an elderly man in an old-fashioned plum-colored jacket and green waistcoat lumbering across the room in her direction. Her eyes narrowed. "He'll want to interrogate me on my recent finds, I suppose."

"You need not chat with him, you know."

"I might as well. If he does not manage to corner me tonight, I shall probably find him waiting for me after church on Sunday. You know how persistent he is." Harriet smiled grimly at Mr. Venable, who smiled just as menacingly in return.

The two were old adversaries. Venable had been an avid fossil collector for years until an unfortunate accident in the caves had given him a fear of the cliff caverns.

He was obliged to limit his collecting to the beach these days and the truth was, he had made no major finds in years. That did not, however, prevent him from trying to convince Harriet that she needed him to oversee and direct her own work. Harriet was on to his tricks. Fossil hunters were a shameless lot and she was constantly on her guard around collectors such as Mr. Venable.

"Good evening, Miss Pomeroy." Mr. Venable bent stiffly over her hand. "I wonder if I might have the pleasure of procuring you a cup of tea."