Unacquainted with the appropriate style of gown one wore to receive an offer of marriage from a viscount, she had selected her newest, a muslin that had originally been white but which Harriet had recently dyed yellow after the fabric had started to turn that color on its own. The long sleeves were gathered at the wrist and the neckline was filled in with a modest, pleated chemisette Harriet had pinned a fresh white lace cap on her untamed hair. She always felt vaguely undressed without a cap.

When she had examined herself in her looking glass she had decided she looked very much as she usually did. Quite ordinary, in fact. One would have thought that after what had happened last night, she would appear somehow different. More exciting or interesting, perhaps. It would have been amusing to find she had become a woman of mystery. Instead she simply looked like plain Harriet.

"Thank heaven you did not die," Felicity said. "Honestly, Harriet, I have never understood how you could go into those caves in the first place, let alone spend an entire night in one. It must have been a dreadful experience."

"Well, it was not particularly dreadful, merely uncomfortable. And it was not as if there was a great deal of choice." Harriet sipped her tea "Once in, there was no way out until the tide retreated. The entire thing was an accident. I would like to stress that point yet again."

"The entire thing was a disaster," Effie said morosely. "Heaven only knows what will happen now."

"What will happen now is that I shall soon find myself engaged," Harriet said with a sigh.

"To a man who is in line for an earldom," Felicity pointed out with her customary pragmatism. "Not such a bad fate, if you ask me."

"It would not be such a bad fate if he were marrying me because he had fallen hopelessly, mindlessly, passionately in love with me," Harriet said. "The problem is that he is going to marry me because he feels honor-bound to do so."

"And so he should," Effie said grimly. "He has ruined you. Utterly."

Harriet frowned. "I do not feel ruined in the least."

Mrs. Stone lumbered into the room with another tray of tea and surveyed the small group. She had the air of one who is about to pronounce doom. "There will be no engagement and no marriage. Mark my words. You'll see The Beast of Blackthorne Hall has had his wicked way with Miss Harriet and now he will toss her aside like so much garbage."

"Heaven help us. " Effie twisted her hankie in her lap and leaned back in her chair with a moan.

Harriet wrinkled her nose. "Really, Mrs. Stone. I would prefer that you did not refer to me as garbage. You may recall that I am your employer."

"Nothing personal, Miss Harriet." Mrs. Stone set down the tea tray with a bang. " 'Tis just that I know the nature of the Beast. I have been through this once before. He's got what he wanted. He'll be long gone by now."

Felicity gazed speculatively at Harriet. "Did he really get what he wanted, Harriet? You have not been precisely clear on that point."

"For goodness' sake," Effie muttered before Harriet could think of a response. "It hardly matters whether he did or did not. The damage is done."

Harriet smiled blandly at her sister. "There, you see, Felicity? What actually happened is unimportant. Appearance is all."

"Yes, I know," Felicity said. "But I am extremely curious, you know."

"Oh, he ravished her, all right," Mrs. Stone said bluntly. "You may depend upon it. No young innocent could spend the night with the Beast of Blackthorne Hall and not find herself ravished."

Harriet felt herself turning pink. She reached for one of the small cakes on the tea tray. "Thank you for your opinion, Mrs. Stone. I believe we have heard quite enough. Why do you not go and see about something in the kitchen? I am certain his lordship will be here at any moment. We will be wanting more tea."

Mrs. Stone drew herself up. "I just brung fresh tea. And yer only foolin' yerself, Miss Harriet, if you think St. Justin will show himself around here this afternoon. Best resign yerself to the inevitable, I say. And pray to the Good Lord ye don't find yerself with child the way my poor Deirdre did."

Harriet's mouth tightened in anger. "Even if I did face that fate, I can assure you I have no intention of adding to the drama by taking my own life, Mrs. Stone."

"Harriet, please," Effie said desperately. "Can we talk of something else? All this chatter of ravishment and suicide is extremely depressing to the spirits."

The sound of a horse's hooves outside brought a merciful end to the conversation. Felicity flew to the window and peered through the curtains.

"It's him," she exclaimed triumphantly. "On a great brute of a horse. Harriet was right. St. Justin has come to make an offer of marriage."

"Thank heavens," Effie said, straightening instantly in her chair. "We are saved. Harriet, either take that cake out of your mouth or swallow it quickly."

"I'm hungry," Harriet said around the mouthful of cake. "I did not get any breakfast, if you will recall."

"A young lady who is about to receive an offer of marriage should be too overset with emotion to eat. Especially when that offer is coming under such circumstances as these. Mrs. Stone, prepare to answer the door. We do not want to keep his lordship waiting today of all days. Felicity, take yourself off. This does not concern you."

"Oh, very well, Aunt Effie." Felicity rolled her eyes at Harriet as she whisked herself out of the parlor. "But I shall want a full report later," she called out from the hall.

In spite of the air of bravado she had managed to assume in front of the others, Harriet's stomach was churning. Her whole future was at stake here and nothing was going the way she had planned. When she heard Gideon's abrupt, authoritative knock on the front door, she suddenly wished she had not eaten the tea cake.

Harriet waited tensely as Mrs. Stone opened the front door.

"You may tell Mrs. Ashecombe that St. Justin is here," Gideon said coldly. "I am expected."

" 'Tis cruel of you to make poor Miss Pomeroy think you'll actually marry her," Mrs. Stone said forcefully. "Bloody cruel."

"Stand aside, Mrs. Stone," Gideon growled. "I shall show myself into the parlor."

Boot heels rang on the hall floor. The sound had to be deliberate. Gideon always moved very quietly when he wished.

Harriet winced. "Oh, dear I fear we are off to a bad start, Aunt Effie. Mrs. Stone has managed to offend him before he even got through the door."

"Hush," Effie commanded. "I shall deal with this."

Gideon strode into the room and Harriet caught her breath at the sight of him. His height and his massive, powerfully built body always combined to make him look very impressive in his elegantly cut clothes and glossy boots. But this afternoon he was even more devastating to her senses than usual. She wondered if it was her new, very intimate knowledge of him that added the extra layer of awareness.

Gideon's eyes met hers and she knew without a doubt that he was remembering last night. She felt herself blush furiously and was annoyed. In an instinctive effort to cover her response she snatched up another tea cake and bit into it as Gideon nodded to Effie.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Ashecombe. Thank you for receiving me. You are no doubt aware of why I have come to call."

"I have a fair notion of your reason for calling upon us, sir. Do sit down. Harriet will pour." Effie frowned quellingly at Harriet.

Struggling to swallow the unwanted tea cake, Harriet grabbed the teapot and poured a cup for Gideon. Wordlessly she handed it to him.

"Thank you, Miss Pomeroy." Gideon took the cup as he sat down across from her. "You are looking very well this afternoon. Quite recovered from your ordeal, I take it?"

For some reason, perhaps because she was already walking a tightrope as far as her nerves were concerned, Harriet took offense at that comment. She swallowed the tea cake, which tasted like sawdust in her mouth, and managed a cool smile.