"As Mr. Dobbs will get rewards when he returns the stolen goods to their rightful owners," Gideon murmured to Harriet, "you may rest assured his enthusiasm for keeping a close watch on the caves is high."

"Yes, of course." Harriet smiled at Dobbs. "Do you know, I have never actually met a Bow Street Runner before. I have a great many questions I would like to ask you about your work, Mr. Dobbs."

Dobbs beamed with modest importance. "Certainly, ma'am. Ask away."

Gideon raised a gloved hand. "Not now. Dobbs, I am certain you will want to remove yourself from the vicinity as quickly as possible now that you have your bearings. No point taking any chances. We would not want anyone to see you hanging about."

"Right you are, sir. Well, then, I'll be off. Good day to you, ma'am." Dobbs gave Harriet another bow and ambled out of the cave.

Harriet watched him go. "Well, that is certainly a relief. I must say I am very pleased to see that things are going ahead at a rapid pace. Excellent job, my lord. But I do wish you had consulted me."

"I rarely consult anyone, Miss Pomeroy. I prefer to operate on my own."

"I see." Harriet frowned, but there did not seem to be much point in arguing about his autocratic methods. The plans were set and they seemed suitable. She would have to be content. "I suppose I had best be off, myself, before I am missed at the house."

Gideon loomed menacingly over her, blocking the entrance of the cavern. "One moment, Miss Pomeroy. I intend to get something quite clear between us before I allow you to return to your home."

"Yes, my lord?"

"You are to stay out of these caves until this business is finished." Gideon spaced the words evenly between set teeth. "I will not tell you again. Do you understand?"

Harriet blinked. "Yes, of course I understand. However, my lord, I am not a child. I am quite capable of exercising caution when necessary."

"Caution? You call it cautious to come down onto the beach this morning to pursue a strange man into this cavern? That was not an act of caution, it was the action of a brainless little twit."

"I am not a twit," Harriet flared, furious now. "I assumed Mr. Dobbs was another fossil collector and he was heading straight for my caves."

"Well, you were wrong, weren't you? He was not another fossil collector at all. It was fortunate he happened to be a Runner. He could have just as easily been one of the thieves sent here to check on the loot."

"I have told you, the thieves never come here during the day. And I would appreciate it if you would kindly stop yelling at me, my lord. I am the one who alerted you to what was going on here, if you will recall. I am the one who discovered the thieves in the first place. You should consider me, at the very least, a partner in this endeavor. I am only trying to protect my fossils."

"Damn your fossils. Is that all you can think about, Miss Pomeroy?"

"For the most part, yes," she snapped.

"What about your reputation? Has it occurred to you just what could happen to it if you continue flitting about chasing thieves and Runners and every other stranger who invades this beach? Don't you give a bloody damn for what people would say and think if they find out what you're up to at all hours of the day and night?"

Harriet was genuinely enraged now. She was not accustomed to anyone except Aunt Effie lecturing her and she had long ago learned to ignore much of what Effie said. Gideon was different. It was impossible to ignore him when he towered over her like this and snarled.

"I do not particularly care what people will say," Harriet declared. "I am not overly concerned with my reputation. I have no reason to be concerned with it, as I have no interest in marriage."

Gideon's eyes glittered in the shadows. "You little fool. You think the only thing you are risking is an offer of marriage which you do not want in the first place?"

"Yes."

"You are wrong." Gideon wrapped his big hand around the nape of her neck and forced her chin up higher so that she was obliged to look straight into his eyes. "You have no notion of what you are risking. You do not know what it is like to lose your reputation and your honor. If you did, you would not make such ridiculous statements."

Harriet heard the savage pain in his voice and her anger dissolved. She suddenly realized he was talking from the depths of his own bitter experience. "My lord, I did not mean to imply that one's honor was worthless. I only meant that I do not care what others say about it."

"Then you are, indeed, a fool," he rasped. "Shall I tell you what it is like to have the whole world believe you to be lacking in honor? To have your reputation torn to shreds? To know that everyone, including your own family, thinks you are not worthy of the title of gentleman?"

"Oh, Gideon." Harriet touched his hand gently.

"Shall I tell you what it's like to walk into a ballroom and know that everyone present is whispering about your past? Can you really have any notion of what it feels like to play a hand of cards at your club and wonder if someone will accuse you of cheating behind your back should you happen to win? After all, a man whose honor is in question will probably cheat at cards, will he not?"

"Gideon, please—"

"Do you know what it's like to lose your friends?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Do you know what it's like to have everyone ready to believe the worst of you?"

"Gideon, stop this."

"Do you know what it's like to have your own father question your honor?"

"Your own father?" Harriet was shocked.

"When you are rich and powerful," Gideon said, "no one will challenge you to your face or give you a chance to explain yourself. All the whispers are behind your back. You are left with no means of clearing your own name. And after a while you realize there is no point in even attempting to do so. No one wants the truth. All anyone wants is the chance to add more fuel to the fires of gossip. The whispers become so loud that sometimes you think you will drown in them."

"Dear heaven."

"That is what it is like to lose your honor and your reputation, Miss Harriet Pomeroy. Think well before you take any more risks." Gideon released her. "Now go on home before I decide to take you at your word and show you what it really means to ignore the world's opinion."

Harriet drew her cloak securely around her and fixed him with a steady gaze. "I would have you know that I do not believe you to be lacking in honor, my lord. I do not think a man who truly lacked honor would have such a care for mine. Or grieve so much for what he, himself, has lost. I am sorry for what you have suffered. I can see that it has caused you much pain."

"I do not want your goddamned pity," Gideon roared. "Get out of here. Now."

Harriet realized in that moment that there was no way to reach past the wall of rage and private anguish Gideon had built around himself. She had provoked the beast in him and he was threatening to turn on her.

Without a word Harriet walked past him to the cave entrance. There she turned once more to look at him.

"Good day, my lord. I shall look forward to the culmination of your clever plans."

Mrs. Treadwell's arrival at the rectory that afternoon set the household into a brief flurry of activity. Effie handled the matter beautifully. Harriet had to admit her aunt had a definite skill at that sort of thing. She was at her best when called upon to navigate the dangerous waters of polite intercourse.

Mrs. Treadwell was the wife of one of the more prominent landholders in the district. Her husband devoted himself to his hunting hounds and Mrs. Treadwell devoted herself to sitting in judgment on social matters in the neighborhood.

She was a stoutly built woman who favored dark gowns and matching turbans. Today she was an imposing figure in a gray bombazine walking dress and a heavy gray turban that completely concealed her thin, gray hair.