Owl switched his gaze to Harriet. "I am told they received an invitation from Lady St. Justin, sir."

"Yes, indeed." Harriet ignored Gideon as he turned on her, his face set in lines of growing fury. "I invited them because I thought they might be able to a.s.sist me in stopping the dreadful nonsense with Mr. Morland."

"You invited them? Without my permission?" Gideon asked in a dangerous voice.

"I did what I thought was best, my lord. If you do not confide in me, you cannot expect me to confide every little thing in you." Harriet hurried past him up the steps to greet her in-laws.

The Earl and Countess of Hardcastle were seated in the library in front of the fire. They had been supplied with a pot of tea. They both glanced up with expressions of alarm and anxiety as Harriet rushed into the library.

The earl glanced first at Harriet and then he looked past her at Gideon. He scowled at his son, who returned the look with an equally fierce expression.

"We received a note," Hardcastle said gruffly. "Something about events of a dire nature that threatened scandal, bloodshed, and possible murder."

"h.e.l.l," said Gideon. "Harriet always did have a way with notes."

Chapter Eighteen.

Two hours later Gideon kicked open the connecting door between Harriet's bedchamber and his own and stalked into his wife's room. He was spoiling for battle.

Harriet sat up in bed against the pillows. She was prepared, more or less, for this confrontation. She was well aware that Gideon had been keeping a tight rein on his temper since the moment they had arrived home to find his parents waiting for them in the library.

Gideon had been civil to the earl and his mother. Barely. He had even given them a brief summary of events which had appeared to stun them.

It was clear that he was not feeling at all civil toward Harriet, however. Everyone had been extremely nervous about that fact except Harriet.

Gideon clamped a hand around the carved bedpost at the foot of the bed. He had undressed except for his breeches. The candlelight highlighted the contoured muscles of his broad shoulders and chest as he loomed in the shadows. His eyes glinted.

"I am not pleased with you, madam," Gideon said grimly.

"Yes, I can see that, my lord."

"How dare you take it upon yourself to issue an invitation to my parents?"

"I was desperate. You were running about London making plans for a duel and you would not listen to me. I had to find a way to stop you."

"I had everything under control," Gideon raged. He released the bedpost and moved closer. "Everything except you, obviously. d.a.m.nation, woman. A man is supposed to be master in his own home."

"Well, you are master in this home. For the most part." Harriet tried a placating smile. "But now and again one or two things pop up which require me to take forceful action. You were in one of your stubborn moods and you refused to listen to me."

"The business with Morland was my affair."

"It also involved me, Gideon. You challenged him in the first place because of me."

"That is beside the point."

"No, it is not." Harriet drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. "I was just as involved as you were. Why are you so angry?"

"You know why. Because you did not consult with me before you summoned my parents." Gideon's voice was harsh. "I do not want them here. I am barely on speaking terms with them, in case you had failed to notice. I cannot imagine what you thought sending for them would accomplish."

"They care about you and I knew they would be concerned that you were planning to risk your neck in a duel."

"Concerned about me? b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. The only reason they would care if I got killed in a duel is that it would mean the end of the line."

"How can you say that? You saw your mother's face tonight when we walked into the library She was very much alarmed for you."

"Very well, I will allow that my mother may still retain some feeling for me. But all my father wants from me is a grandson, and for that he needs me alive. But do not fool yourself into believing he actually cares what happens to me beyond that."

"Oh, Gideon, I am certain that is not true." Harriet scrambled to her knees and touched his arm. "Your father does care about you. It is just that he is every bit as stubborn and arrogant and proud as you are. In addition, he is a great deal older than you are. Probably much more set in his ways."

"I may not have his years of experience," Gideon bit out, "but I can be just as set in my ways as he can. Trust me."

"Rubbish. You are much more tolerant and flexible than he is."

Gideon's brows rose. "I am?"

"Certainly. Just look at how much you tolerate from me."

"There is that," Gideon muttered. "I have tolerated far too much from you, madam."

"Gideon, I am trying to make a point here. Listen to me. If you wish to be on friendly terms with your father again, you must make it easy for him. He will not know how to break down the walls that have built up over the past six years."

"Why should I bother to be on friendly terms with him? He is the one who turned his back on me."

"Not completely, Gideon. He has trusted you with the management of his estates."

"He did not have much choice," Gideon retorted. "I'm the only son he's got left."

"He has not cut off all communication," Harriet continued. "You go to visit him fairly often. Look how you dashed off to see him after we spent the night in the cave."

"My father only issues a command for me to visit when he thinks he is dying."

"Perhaps he feels he must use his health as an excuse to summon you."

Gideon stared at her. "Good G.o.d. How in h.e.l.l's name did you reach that conclusion?"

"I examined the facts in a logical fashion. You will notice he did not let his health concerns keep him from racing to your rescue tonight. He came because he cared what happened to you."

Gideon's big hands closed over her shoulders. He leaned close. "My father did not rush to my rescue tonight. He is here because you managed to alarm my mother and caused both of them to think that I was about to put an end to the Earls of Hardcastle. That is the only reason he is here. And I have had enough of this nonsense."

"So have I Gideon, I want you to promise me you will be polite to your father. Give him a chance to repair the rift between you."

"I do not want to talk about my father anymore tonight I am here to talk to you, madam."

Harriet eyed him expectantly. "What do you wish to discuss?"

"Your duties as a wife. Henceforth, you will consult with me before making major decisions such as the one you took when you contacted my parents. Is that quite clear?"

"I will strike a bargain with you, my lord." Harriet smiled tremulously. "I will promise to consult with you, provided you will consult with me. I want your word of honor that in future you will discuss matters such as this foolish business of challenging Mr. Morland to a duel."

"There was no duel. Why in b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l do you keep harping on it?"

"Because I know you, Gideon. I know full well that there would have been a duel if Mr. Morland had not conveniently disgraced himself by running off to the Continent. And if things had gone wrong, you might have been killed. I could not bear the thought of that."

Gideon's eyes were brilliant suddenly. "Because you love me?"

"Yes, " Harriet nearly shouted. "How many times do I have to tell you that I love you?"

"I think," Gideon said as he pushed her down onto her back and sprawled heavily across her, "that you will have to tell me many, many times. Countless times. And you will have to go on saying it for the rest of your life."

"Very well, my lord." Harriet put her arms around his neck and drew him close. "I love you."

"Show me," he said, his hands already moving on her.

She did.

Six years ago Gideon had forgotten how to love. But Harriet dared to hope that he was relearning the skill.

The next morning Gideon retreated to the library directly after breakfast. He was in no mood to deal with either of his parents. They were in the house and there was little he could do about it. He could hardly kick them out. But he had decided that, as Harriet had invited them to London, Harriet could d.a.m.n well entertain them.

Gideon told himself he had other, more important matters to attend to.

He sat at his desk and studied the final version of his list of suspicious persons. It had been an exacting and frustrating job trying to cull names of possible thieves from the guest lists. There were literally dozens of people who showed up on everyone's list.

Which was not to say that they had all accepted the invitations, of course. At any given time during the Season certain people were all the rage and received invitations to every soiree, ball, and card party. No one expected them to attend any but the most exclusive functions, however.

One of the problems Gideon faced was that he did not know how to tell who, after receiving an invitation, might have actually attended what. It struck him that he did not have a firm grasp on who was currently in fashion and who was not, who might have accepted an invitation and who would have disdained it.

It was all very complicated for a man who had been out of Society for the past six years.

The door opened just as Gideon was going through the long list one more time in an effort to refine it. His father walked hesitantly into the room and stopped.

"Your wife said I might find you in here," Hardcastle said.

"Was there something you wanted, sir?"

"I'd like a word with you, if you don't mind."

Gideon shrugged. "Please sit down."

The earl crossed the room and seated himself on the other side of the desk. "Busy, eh?"

"A project I have been working on for a few days now."

"I see. Well." Hardcastle glanced around the library and cleared his throat once or twice. "I realize you were unaware that Harriet had sent for your mother and me."

"Yes."

Hardcastle scowled. "Your lady meant well, you know."

"She overreacted to a situation that was entirely under control."

"Yes, well, trust you were not too hard on her last night. I know you were somewhat annoyed."

Gideon arched one brow. "Harriet and I discussed the matter. You need not be concerned for her."

"d.a.m.nation, man. What was it all about? A duel? With Morland? What in G.o.d's name possessed you to challenge Morland?"

"He attacked Harriet in Mr. Humboldt's Museum. She saved herself by hitting him over the head with a large stone. Unfortunately, he survived the experience. So I challenged him. All very simple and straightforward, really, but Harriet was alarmed by it all."

"Morland attacked Harriet?" Hardcastle was clearly shocked. "Why in h.e.l.l would he do that?"

Gideon studied the guest list in front of him. "Probably because he knew he could not seduce her the way he had Deirdre." He checked off one of the names with his pen.

"Deirdre."

There was a long silence. Gideon did not look up. He continued checking off names.

"Are you telling me Morland seduced Deirdre Rushton six years ago?" Hardcastle finally asked.

"Yes. I believe I mentioned once or twice that she had been having an affair with another man and that I, myself, had never touched her."

"Yes, buta""

"But you thought the babe she carried was mine," Gideon said. "I do recall denying it on one or two occasions, but no one was paying much attention."

"She was a rector's daughter." But there was no defensive heat in his voice, just a great sadness. "And she told her housekeeper and her father that the child was yours. Why would she lie when she was going to kill herself?"

"I have often wondered that myself. But Deirdre told a great many lies during that time. What was one more?"

Hardcastle wrinkled his brow. "Did you know at the time that Morland had been with her?"

"She told me so herself that last night. Later, when it was all over, there was no way to prove it. Morland was still married at the time and his poor wife had enough to cope with as it was."

"His wife? I seem to remember her vaguely. A rather melancholy creature. No spirit."

Gideon paused, remembering. "Rumor had it that he was not kind to her. I saw no reason to accuse him publicly of seducing Deirdre. No one would have believed me and it would only have brought further distress to Morland's sad little wife."

"I see. I was aware that you no longer were seen in Morland's company, but I a.s.sumed it was because Morland had turned against you along with everyone else in Society. Instead it was you who cut off the friendship."

"Yes."

"It was a difficult time for all of us," Hardcastle said. "Your brother had died only a few months before. Your mother had still not recovered from the shock."