"No doubt." Gideon gripped her shoulders firmly. "Harriet, are you quite certain he did not hurt you?"

She shook her head impatiently and blew into the handkerchief once more. "No, no, I am fine, my lord. Except for this gown, of course, which is no doubt ruined. But I cannot blame that entirely on Mr. Morland. In truth I had already gotten it quite dirty by the time he showed up."

She really was all right. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Morland had not gotten his lecherous hands on her. Leave it to Harriet to save herself with some ancient fish embedded in a chunk of stone. Gideon's hands flexed gently on her shoulders. He had failed to protect her.

"My brave, resourceful little Harriet. I am very, very proud of you, madam."

She smiled tremulously. "Why, thank you, Gideon."

"But I am very angry with myself for having done such a poor job of caring for you," Gideon added grimly. "You should never have been in the danger you were in today."

"Well, it is hardly your fault, Gideon. You could not possibly have guessed that Mr. Morland would go to Mr. Humboldt's Museum." Harriet paused and then continued earnestly. "It really is a most excellent museum, sir. I do not believe I have had an opportunity to tell you about it because I have been so busy explaining how I may have killed Mr. Morland. But I did not find any teeth which resembled mine."

Gideon smiled wryly. Trust Harriet to be more interested in her giant reptile tooth than in the close call she had had. He put his fingers on her lips, silencing her. "You may tell me all about it later. Now I think it would be best if I go find out exactly what we are dealing with here."

Harriet looked alarmed. "What do you mean?"

"I am going to Mr. Humboldt's Museum and see if Morland is dead or alive." Gideon kissed her on the forehead. "Once I know his present condition I can make further plans."

"Yes, of course." Harriet chewed on her lower lip. "What if by some chance he is alive? Do you think he will accuse me of attempted murder?"

"I think," Gideon said gently, "that the very last thing Morland will do is accuse you of murder." He will be too busy trying to save his own hide, Gideon promised himself silently.

"I would not be too certain of that." Harriet frowned thoughtfully. "He is not a very nice man, sir. You were quite right when you told me that he is not the angel he appears."

"Yes." Gideon released her. "Go on upstairs, my dear. I shall return when I have seen to Morland."

Harriet touched his arm, her eyes anxious. "You will be very careful, will you not, my lord? I would not want anyone to see you near the body. Assuming he is dead, of course. And if he is alive, he might be dangerous. You must not take any chances."

"I will be careful." Gideon crossed to the door and opened it. "I may be gone for some time. You are not to worry about me."

Harriet looked doubtful. "I think I should go with you, sir. I can show you exactly where I left Mr. Morland."

"I will find him on my own."

"But if I accompanied you I could keep a watch while you attend to the body," she said, obviously warming to her plan.

"I will manage very well on my own. Now, if you do not mind, Harriet, I would like to be on my way." He motioned her out into the hall.

She walked slowly toward the door, clearly turning several notions over in her mind. "My lord, the more I think about it, the more I believe it would be best if I accompanied you."

"I said no, Harriet."

"But you know as well as I do that sometimes your plans do not always go perfectly. Bear in mind what happened that night in the cavern, and all because you did not take me into your confidence."

"The only time my plans go awry, madam, is when you interfere with them," Gideon said evenly. "This evening you are going to do as you are told. I will deal with Morland. You will go straight upstairs to your room and have a bath and a cup of tea while you recover from your ordeal. And you will not leave the house until I return. Is that very clear, my dear?"

"But Gideon—"

"I see it is not quite clear. Very well, let me be blunt. If you do not go up those stairs this instant I will carry you up them. Now do we understand each other, madam?"

Harriet blinked. "Well, if you are going to be that way about it—"

"I am," he assured her.

Harriet walked reluctantly past him. "Very well, my lord. But please be careful."

"I will be careful," Gideon said gruffly. "And Harriet?"

She glanced back inquiringly. "Yes, my lord?"

"You may be certain that in the future I will take better care of you."

"Oh, rubbish. You already take excellent care of me."

She was wrong, Gideon thought as he watched her climb the stairs. He had not taken good care of her at all and today she had almost paid the price of his carelessness. One thing was certain. It was time to get rid of Morland once and for all.

Unless, of course, Harriet had already done so.

The early evening streets were crowded as Gideon made his way on foot to Mr. Humboldt's Museum.

Gideon had decided he could make his way more swiftly without the encumbrance of a horse or carriage, but there was another advantage to walking. On foot it was easier to lose himself amid the clutter of vehicles and people constantly moving about London.

The St. Justin horses were hardly inconspicuous. They were recognized by many, and Gideon did not want to call any attention to himself this evening. If he should happen to spot a familiar face, he could duck into one of the nearby alleys or lanes.

When he reached the street where Mr. Humboldt's Museum was located, Gideon waited in an alley until he could see no one around. Then he made his way to the front area that had been sunk into the ground to provide light for the underground story of the house. As was customary, there was an iron railing and a gate protecting the outside steps that led down from the street.

Gideon tried the gate and found it locked. He glanced around once more to be certain no one was in sight before he vaulted over the railing and dropped down onto the stone steps.

The steps, which were designed to serve as a servants' and tradesman's entrance, led down to a door which was also locked. Gideon tried to peer through the small windows which were supposed to afford light to the lower story of the house, but heavy drapes had been drawn across them.

Gideon was wondering if he was going to have to go to the trouble of breaking a window when he saw that someone had apparently forgotten to lock it.

He opened it and swung a leg over the sill. A second later he lowered himself into a shadowed room full of cabinets, crates, and bones. He quickly realized that this was not the chamber Harriet had told him about.

Gideon took down a candle from a wall sconce, lit it, and made his way out of the dusty room into a short dark hall. The door of the chamber at the end of the hall stood open.

As soon as Gideon stepped into the dark chamber he knew he was in the room where Harriet had been attacked. A cold fury burned in him as he checked each aisle of tall cabinets. She had been trapped in here by Morland. He had hunted her down as though she were a helpless doe and then he had attacked her. Only Harriet's own cleverness had saved her.

Gideon's hand clenched around the candle. He was very nearly as furious with himself as he was with Morland in that moment. He should have made certain Harriet had never been in this sort of danger. He had not fulfilled his duty as her husband. He had not taken proper care of her.

He found the aisle where Harriet had thrown the stone down on Morland. The chunk of rock lay on the floor. A section of it had broken off. Tallow dripped on the imprint of a strange spiny sea creature as Gideon knelt down to examine the site of Morland's defeat.