"Why should she have lied? She was planning to kill herself, for God's sake. She had nothing left to lose."
"I do not know what her reasoning was. She was not rational when she came to me that last time. She…" Gideon stopped.
There was no point trying to explain what Deirdre had been like on that night. He had realized at once that something was wrong when she suddenly became bent on seducing him.
After months of showing no response to his tentative and extremely chaste kisses, she had suddenly thrown herself at him. There had been a wild air of desperation about her. Gideon knew somehow that she had been with another man.
When he had confronted her with his suspicions, she had flown into a rage. Her words still rang in his ears.
Yes, there is someone else. And I am glad you did not put your great, ugly hands on me, you monstrous creature. I do not think I could have borne your touch. I could not have stood the sight of your hideous face looming over me. Did you really believe I wanted you to make love to me? Did you really think I wanted to marry you? It was my father who made me accept your suit.
The earl swallowed a great gulp of port. "If there had been another man, why would she not have confessed it? Left a note to that effect or some such thing.
Damnation
, man. Do you have any notion of how hard your poor mother worked to convince herself Deirdre had allowed herself to be seduced by someone else? But the facts spoke for themselves."
"Perhaps we should discuss another topic," Gideon suggested.
"Damn you, my one and only grandchild died with Deirdre Rushton."
Gideon's self-control snapped. "No, goddammit, that was not your grandchild who died with Deirdre. It was someone else's grandchild.
The babe was not mine. "
"Gideon, for God's sake, be careful with that wineglass."
"For the last time," Gideon said with a snarl, "I swear to you on my honor, even though I know you do not think me honorable,
that I did not take Deirdre Rushton
. I never touched her. She could not abide my touch, if you must know the damned truth. She made that quite clear."
With a tremendous effort of will, Gideon regained his control. He put down the wineglass with great care. His father was eying him warily.
"Mayhap you are right," Hardcastle said. "Mayhap we should discuss another topic."
"Yes." Gideon took a calming breath. "I apologize for the theatrics, sir. One would think that after all these years I would have learned the futility of such tactics. You may blame it on my wife. She is forever complaining that I do not explain myself." He smiled grimly. "But you see what happens when I do. No one believes me."
"Except your wife?" Hardcastle suggested coolly.
"She believed in my innocence before I bothered to explain," Gideon said, not without a surge of deep satisfaction. "In fact, I have never told her the whole story. Yet she stood in the middle of a crowded ballroom and announced to the Polite World that it was obvious Deirdre's babe had someone other than me for its father."
"Little wonder you married her," Hardcastle said dryly.
"Yes. Little wonder. What other subject did you wish to discuss, sir?"
Hardcastle gazed at him for a long while. "Thieves, I believe. Tell me about these villains who were using the caves to hide the stolen goods."
With an effort Gideon pulled his thoughts back to the business at hand. "There is not much to tell. I set a trap using a Bow Street Runner. We caught the men who were hiding the goods."
"How did you know what was going on?"
Gideon smiled wryly. "Harriet discovered the cave full of stolen items while collecting fossils. She summoned me back to Upper Biddleton and instructed me to deal with the matter as quickly as possible, as she wanted to continue to explore the cave. If you have not already guessed, I can tell you that Harriet has a tyrannical streak."
"I see. So you caught the thieves. And acquired Harriet in the process."
"Yes." Gideon turned the glass of port between his palms, watching the ruby highlights. "There is just one thing that still bothers me. I believe there was a fourth man. One we did not catch."
"What makes you think that?"
"First, when I interviewed the thieves later they all claimed to have gotten their instructions from a mysterious man whose face they never saw. I'm inclined to believe them."
"Why?"
"The items we found in the cavern were all of excellent quality. Extremely fine workmanship, and not traceable to any of the better houses in Upper Biddleton. None of the three men we captured seemed the sort to have a discerning eye, if you take my meaning. They were the sort who would have simply smashed a window of a likely looking house and grabbed whatever looked valuable."
"I understand," Hardcastle said slowly.
"Furthermore, when the Runner returned some of the stolen items to their owners in London, he learned that no one had been aware of having been the victim of burglars until someone happened to notice an item had gone missing."
Hardcastle was startled. "No one noticed the burglaries at the time?"
Gideon shook his head slowly. "The thing is there were no smashed windows or broken locks to alert the owners. Think of how large Hardcastle House or Blackthorne Hall is. Even the townhouse you used to keep in London is huge. If someone had not broken a door or window to get inside, would you know you had been robbed until you missed an object?"
"Well, no. I suppose not. But what about the staff?"
"It was frequently a member of the staff who first noticed the missing item, according to Dobbs, the man I hired from Bow Street."
The earl looked at him with intent curiosity. "So what conclusions do you draw?"
"That there was someone who was able to investigate the houses before the burglaries and ascertain what valuables were present and where they were located," Gideon said. "And then that same someone arranged for the objects to be taken in a neat, efficient manner that did not require any smashing of windows and locks."
"And you believe this person may still be abroad?"
"I know we did not catch him." Gideon finished his port. "There is one very interesting thing we know about him, in addition to the fact that he has a discerning eye and
entre
into the best houses."
"He is familiar with the caves around Upper Biddleton," Hardcastle concluded.
"Yes. He knows them very well."
"There could not be too many people who fit all the facts," Hardcastle said.
"On the contrary." Gideon smiled grimly. "Any number of men have hunted fossils in the caves of Upper Biddleton over the years. A fair proportion of them are gentlemen who are received in Society. Consider yourself, sir."
"Myself?"
"You fit the profile perfectly. A gentleman with a discerning eye who is comfortable in the best drawing rooms and who is also an expert on the caves of Upper Biddleton."
The earl was stunned. Then his eyes lit with fury. "How dare you imply such a thing about your own father?"
Gideon got to his feet at once. He inclined his head in a cool bow. "I beg your pardon, sir. I did not mean to imply anything. Of course I do not suspect you of thievery. Your honor is above reproach."
"I should bloody well think so."
"Furthermore, as the manager of your estates, I am very well acquainted with the extent of your wealth. You have no need to resort to robbery. So I am not putting you on my list of suspicious persons."
"Good God," Hardcastle stormed. "Of all the disrespectful, disgraceful things to say. To even imply I could be a suspicious person is beyond the pale, sir."
Gideon went to the door. "It is an interesting feeling, is it not?"
"What is?" the earl snapped.
"Finding out that someone whose respect you think you have might just possibly doubt your honor and knowing that you could never prove your innocence to him?"
Gideon did not wait for a response. He walked out of the dining room and closed the door behind him.
Chapter Fourteen
Harriet gazed out over the railing of the theater box and studied the brightly lit scene. The rows of boxes across from the one she was sharing with her aunts and Felicity were filled with brilliantly garbed people, all vying for attention. Each box was a mini stage in itself, a platform on which the theatergoers displayed themselves, their current lovers, and their jewels.
Down below in the pits a boisterous, rowdy crowd, which had nearly drowned out the performers shortly before the intermission, put on their own show. The fops and dandies preened, told loud, uncouth jokes, slapped each other on the back, and generally created a cheerful disturbance that was as entertaining as what happened on stage.
Harriet had been interested in the spectacle at first, but she had soon grown bored. She would have much preferred to have been at home studying fossil teeth. But this was only her second night back in London as the Viscountess St. Justin and Gideon had insisted she allow her family to take her to the theater.
Harriet had not understood why he had wanted her to attend the performance until the steady stream of visitors to Adelaide's box had enlightened her. Gideon was putting his bride on display.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Felicity asked during a brief break in visitors. She was radiant in a pale pink muslin gown trimmed with flounces and ribbons. "I vow the theater is packed tonight."
"Yes, it is. It is also rather warm." Harriet used her fan vigorously and stopped abruptly when Felicity shook her head in mock despair.
Harriet sighed. She knew she had not gotten the hang of using the fan coyly or seductively, as it was intended to be used. At least no one could complain of her gown. It was a very attractive one of turquoise muslin trimmed with white flounces and ribbon. Felicity had selected it.
The curtain parted at the entrance to the box and two handsome young men in immaculate evening dress entered.
"The Adonis Twins have arrived," Harriet murmured to Felicity.
"So I see." Felicity smiled, thoroughly enjoying her role as a diamond of the first water.
The two young men Harriet had nicknamed the Adonis Twins were not related at all, but they were of the same height and coloring, favored the same tailor, and paid attention to the same women. They were currently worshiping at Felicity's feet.
The Twins politely greeted Adelaide and Effie, and then they turned eagerly to Felicity.
Felicity promptly dazzled them both with a smile. "Good evening, gentlemen. How nice to see you both here tonight. You are acquainted with my sister, the new Viscountess St. Justin?"
"A pleasure to see you back in Town, madam," the first Adonis said with a graceful bow. His eyes were filled with brief speculation.
"A pleasure. Congratulations on your recent marriage." The second Adonis imitated the other's courtly bow and then both men turned their attention back to Felicity.
At the rear of the box Adelaide and Effie chatted with an aging dowager dressed in black. Harriet overheard the woman remark to Effie that the entire family must be greatly relieved the marriage had actually taken place.
"We are, of course, delighted with the alliance," Effie said serenely, and then added, lying through her teeth, "We were disappointed, naturally, that the young people could not wait for a formal wedding. But love must have its way, eh?"
"Someone had his way, all right," the dowager muttered. "And if you ask me, it was St. Justin."
Well aware that she was the subject of several curious glances from the other boxes, Harriet leaned over the railing to watch a fight that had broken out down below in the pits. She was unaware of the latest visitor to the box until she heard a familiar masculine voice greeting Adelaide and Effie.
"Oh, good evening, Mr. Morland," Effie said brightly. "So nice to see you tonight."
"I have come to pay my respects to the new Viscountess St. Justin," Bryce said.
"But of course," Effie said.
Harriet turned around in her seat and saw Bryce standing over her. His golden hair gleamed in the lights and his smile was laced with charm. She recalled Gideon's warning.
He is not the angel he appears to be
.
"Good evening, Mr. Morland." Harriet smiled politely.
"Madam." Bryce seated himself on the velvet-covered chair beside her. He lowered his voice as he gazed into her eyes. "You are looking very lovely tonight."
"Thank you, sir."
"I learned only this morning that you were back in Town," Bryce said. "And that you were married."
Harriet inclined her head. Most people at least offered a token wish of congratulations. "Yes."
"The rumors surrounding your sudden departure from Town a few days ago were most alarming."
"Were they?" Harriet shrugged. "I was not alarmed by any of the events I cannot imagine why anyone else was."
"Some of us feared for your safety," Bryce said softly.
"Nonsense. I was never for one moment in any danger. I cannot imagine where anyone got such a notion."
Bryce smiled sadly. "Those of us who were concerned for you felt we had reason to fear when we learned that St. Justin had followed you and your friends."
"Well, now you know that there was nothing at all to be concerned about," Harriet said firmly.
"You are a very brave lady, madam. " Bryce bowed his head in tribute. "You have my utmost admiration."
Harriet glared at him. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"Never mind. It is not important. And the deed is done." Bryce nodded his head at the crowd. "Do the stares and comments bother you? You are the latest curiosity on the social scene, Lady St. Justin. The bride of the Beast of Blackthorne Hall."
Harriet drew back in anger. "I have asked you most specifically not to call my husband by that terrible name. Please leave this box, Mr. Morland."
"I did not mean to offend, madam. I am merely repeating what the whole world is saying. Would you kill the messenger who brings the bad news?"