It was a very large tooth, blade-shaped and set in a socket, not simply adhering to the bone of the jaw. The tooth of a carnivore, Harriet decided. A very big carnivore.

She examined it by the light of the lamp she had hung on the peg in the cavern wall. She could not be certain until she'd had an opportunity to do some research, but she was very sure it was unlike any fossil tooth she had ever found. Nor did it match anything in her father's collection.

With any luck it would be a remnant of a heretofore unknown species. If it could not be identified, she would be able to write a paper introducing it to the world.

It had been two days since she had spent the fateful night with Gideon. Cradling the fossil in her hands, Harriet gazed around her at the cavern which had altered her life. The stolen goods had all been removed by Mr. Dobbs under the supervision of Gideon and the local magistrate.

Even the canvas bags that had served as a bed that night had been removed.

Still clutching the fossil tooth, Harriet wandered over to the spot where she had lain in Gideon's arms. The searing memories nearly overwhelmed her once again. She recalled the raw need in his eyes, the sweat on his brow, and the taut, corded muscles of his shoulders. He had been at the limits of his own self-control that night.

But his main concern had been the pain he was causing her, Harriet reflected. He had done everything he could to minimize her discomfort, even though he had clearly been driven hard by his own passion.

Harriet shivered as she remembered what it had felt like to have Gideon inside her. He had filled her so completely that he had almost made himself a part of her. For a timeless moment they had been bound together more closely than she would ever have believed possible. The sense of shattering intimacy had been more than physical. Harriet had felt as though she had touched Gideon's soul. She knew he had touched hers.

The unaccustomed flight of poetic fancy startled her.

"Rubbish," she muttered aloud. That was probably just the sort of thing all young ladies in love told themselves after having done something quite silly such as surrendering their virginity before marriage. One had to justify the recklessness somehow.

But perhaps she could be excused for her poetic inclinations. She was, after all, definitely a woman in love.

Harriet had known that for two days now. In truth, she had known it even before Gideon had made love to her.

What tore at her heart and made her stomach reel with dread was knowing that Gideon was only marrying her because of his honor.

Harriet knew there was no way of dissuading him from the marriage. His honor had been mauled too savagely in the past. He would not allow it to happen again, especially not under such similar circumstances. His pride was a raw wound. He would attack anything that threatened it.

Harriet picked up her lamp and walked slowly out of the cavern where she had discovered that love was not nearly as simple or as sweet as she had once assumed it to be.

It was much easier to deal with riddles in stone such as her beautiful fossil tooth than it was to comprehend the complex nature of a man like Gideon, she decided. A man like Gideon simply had to be accepted and loved.

He was far too proud to explain himself or to ask for understanding.

Felicity bounced into the study just as Harriet was preparing to begin a sketch of the tooth she had found in the cavern.

"There you are. I thought I might find you in here." Felicity closed the door behind her and sat down. "How can you bring yourself to work on those horrid old fossils after all the excitement lately?"

Harriet looked up. "To tell you the truth, I find my work something of a refuge these days."

"Hah. If I were you, I would be busy planning my trousseau. Just think, Harriet, you are going to be a countess."

"Viscountess."

"Oh, well, for the present, yes. But someday, when St Justin's father dies, you will become the Countess of Hardcastle. Just imagine. Do you realize how this changes my life?"

Harriet's brows rose. "Your life?"

"Well, of course. I am no longer under so much pressure to marry well. If and when I do get to London, I shall be able to enjoy myself rather than hunt for a suitable husband. What a relief."

Harriet put down her quill and sat back in her chair. "I had not realized you felt under pressure, Felicity."

"Of course I did. I knew you and Aunt Effie were counting on me to make a good marriage and thereby secure my future." Felicity smiled happily. "And I would have done my duty, of course, if it had been necessary. After all, I do not want to be a burden. But now I am free."

Harriet massaged her temples. "I am sorry I never realized how you felt about our plans. I just assumed that if we got you to London you would attract any number of excellent suitors and you would be able to fall in love with one of them."

"I seriously doubt that love goes hand in hand with practicality very often," Felicity said dryly.

"I suppose you are right. Just look at the situation in which I find myself."

"What is wrong with your situation? If you ask me, it looks very pleasant, indeed. You are extremely fond of St. Justin. You cannot deny it. I have seen the expression in your eyes when you speak of him."

"I am fond enough of him," Harriet murmured, thinking that fond was far too bland a word for what she really felt for Gideon. "But there is no getting around the fact that he is offering marriage only because his honor requires it."

Felicity scowled. "For heaven's sake, Harriet. Of course he must marry you, although Mrs. Stone is still predicting he will not. You have been ravished, after all." She paused meaningfully. "You were, were you not? Not that the actual facts matter, according to Aunt Effie. Appearance is everything."

Harriet narrowed her eyes at her sister. "How on earth have you managed to grow up with such an unfortunate lack of delicacy, sister, dear?"

"I expect it has something to do with the fact that you are my sister and, until now, you have always been very straightforward about most everything. You have no social polish, as Aunt Effie is constantly reminding us."

Harriet nodded with grim resignation. "I knew that somehow it would be all my fault. Everything around here lately appears to have been my fault."

"Feeling sorry for ourself, are we?"

"Yes," Harriet muttered. "If you must know, I am feeling a bit sorry for myself."

"If I were you, my dear ruined sister, I would be thanking my lucky stars that the man who ravished me has offered marriage. Do you know what they are saying in the village?"

"No, and I doubt that I wish to know."

"Well, there is a great deal of talk about the capture of the thieves, of course, but people are far more interested in your situation."

Harriet groaned. "I can imagine."

"They are saying that history is repeating itself," Felicity confided with gleeful drama. "They are claiming that the Beast of Blackthorne Hall has ravished another young, innocent rector's daughter who will soon find herself cast aside."

Harriet frowned. "Do they know St. Justin and I are engaged?"

"Yes, of course. They simply do not believe he will go through with the marriage. They are convinced you will share poor Deirdre's fate."

"Fustian." Harriet picked up her quill again and went to work. "The one thing I can be sure of in this unfortunate situation is that I will be married. Not even the demons of hell could stop St. Justin from doing the honorable thing."

"Let us hope so. This is all going to be very awkward if he does not."

The sound of a horse's hooves out in the drive intervened before Harriet could respond. Felicity jumped to her feet and went to the window.

"St. Justin," Felicity announced. "Where does he purchase his horses? They are true monsters. I wonder what he wants this time? He looks very grim."

"That means nothing. He frequently appears grim."

Felicity swung around, eyeing her sister's appearance. "The least you could do is take off that dreadful apron and straighten your cap. Hurry, Harriet. You are going to be a viscountess soon. You must learn to dress accordingly."

"I do not think St. Justin notices how I dress." Nevertheless, Harriet obediently removed her apron and began to fuss with her hair.

Mrs. Stone's voice sounded loudly from the hall. "I'll tell Miss Pomeroy you've come calling, sir."

"Never mind. I am in a hurry. I shall tell her myself."

Harriet turned toward the study door just as it opened.

She smiled brilliantly. "Good morning, my lord. We were not expecting you."

"I am aware of that." Gideon did not return the smile. He was dressed in riding clothes and Felicity had been correct about his expression. He did look grim. Even more so than usual. "I am sorry about this, Harriet, but it was either come here myself without notice or send a messenger. I wanted to tell you personally."

Harriet eyed him in growing alarm. "What is it, my lord? Is something wrong?"

"I have received a message that my father has taken a turn for the worse. He has sent for me. I am leaving for Hardcastle House immediately. I do not know when I shall be able to return."

Harriet jumped to her feet and hurried over to touch his arm in sympathy. "Oh, Gideon, I am so sorry. I do hope he will recover."

Gideon's expression did not soften. "He usually does. Shortly after I arrive. This is not the first time I have been summoned to his deathbed. But one never knows when it will be the real thing, so I must go."