"One moment, if you please, Aunt Effie." Harriet put down her spoon. "This is indeed a wonderful opportunity for Felicity, but I have no need to go to London. Nor do I wish to go. I am just beginning work on an extremely interesting new discovery. So far I have taken out only a tooth, but I am quite hopeful that I shall find more of the creature."

Effie put down her coffee cup, her blue-green eyes suddenly intent. "You will accompany us, Harriet, and that is that."

"But I just told you, I have no wish to go to Town. You and Felicity will go together. I am certain you will enjoy yourselves immensely. However, I am quite content here in Upper Biddleton."

"You," Effie said very firmly, "do not appear to understand, Harriet. This is a golden opportunity, not only for Felicity, but for you also."

"How is that?" Harriet asked, annoyed. "I am already engaged to be married. There is nothing more you can hope to accomplish by taking me to Town."

Effie's expression turned shrewd. "I would have thought," she said coolly, "that, as you are going to become a viscountess and someday a countess, you would wish to learn how to go on in Society. After all, you would not want to embarrass your husband at some future time, would you?"

Harriet was taken aback. She had not even considered that aspect of the situation. "The last thing I would ever want to do is embarrass St. Justin," she admitted slowly. "Heaven knows he has suffered enough humiliation in his life."

Effie smiled with satisfaction. "Very well, then, this is your chance to train yourself properly for your new position in life."

Felicity grinned. "A perfect opportunity for you to acquire a social polish, Harriet."

"But my tooth," Harriet said desperately. "What about my fossils?"

"Those fossils have been buried in stone since before the Deluge," Effie said offhandedly. "They can wait a few more months for you to examine them."

Felicity laughed. "She has a point, Harriet. And you are going to be a viscountess. You really should learn something about conducting yourself in Society. Not only for St. Justin's sake, but for the sake of his family. You will want his parents to approve of you, will you not?"

"Well, yes. Yes, of course." Harriet frowned. And then a thought struck her. In London she would have an opportunity to research her tooth. She might be able to discover if it was truly unique. "I suppose I can take a few weeks off to go to Town and gain some polish."

"Excellent." Aunt Effie gave her an approving smile.

Harriet nodded. "Very well. I will write to St. Justin and tell him what is happening." She brightened. "Perhaps after this crisis with his father is past, he will be able to join us there."

"Perhaps. I would not count on it, however," Effie said, her eyes craftier than ever. "In fact, my dear, I believe it would be best if we did not say too much about your, uh, engagement."

Harriet looked at her in shock. "Not say too much about it? What on earth do you mean by that, Aunt Effie?"

Effie cleared her throat and delicately patted her lips with her napkin. "The thing is, my dear, there has been no official announcement. As far as we know, St. Justin has not even bothered to send notices to the newspapers as of yet. It would be highly presumptuous of us to do so. So until he takes care of the matter…"

Harriet lifted her chin. "I believe I am beginning to understand you, Aunt Effie. Mrs. Stone has put some doubts in your brain, has she not? You are not entirely certain but that I have indeed been ravished and abandoned."

"It is not just Mrs. Stone who has given me cause to worry," Effie admitted sadly. "Your fate is all everyone in the village is discussing. The local people who claim they know St. Justin all too well believe he is playing some cruel game. You must admit, this business of him leaving the neighborhood on such short notice does not bode well."

"For heaven's sake, his father is very ill," Harriet retorted.

"So he claims," Effie murmured as Mrs. Stone entered the room with a platter of toast. "But we really do not know that for certain, do we?"

Harriet glowered at her furiously. "St. Justin would not lie about a thing like that. I begin to see your aim here, Aunt Effie. You are afraid we cannot depend upon St. Justin to do the proper thing."

"Well…"

"You are hoping we can go to London and pretend that nothing has happened. Do you expect to be able to hide the fact that I am engaged to him? Or conceal the rumors about what happened here in the caves?"

Effie gave her a steely look. "You are an heiress now, Harriet. There is much that can be hushed up because of that. Furthermore, the rumors of your ravishment may not follow us to London. Upper Biddleton is very far removed from Society."

"I will not allow you to hush up my engagement," Harriet declared. "It is a fact, whether you believe it or not. I will go to London in order to learn how to handle myself in Society and for reasons of my own. But I will not step foot out of Upper Biddleton if you think you are going to put me on the Marriage Mart as an innocent young heiress. Even if I were not engaged, I am far too old for that role."

"Bravo," exclaimed Felicity. "Well said, Harriet. I will be the innocent young heiress and you can be the older woman of mystery. And the beauty of it all is that neither of us will have to work to find husbands. We can simply enjoy ourselves. It is settled, then. We are all going to Town."

"I do hope," Effie said with a pointed look at Felicity, "that we will not find ourselves dealing with any more disastrous incidents such as occurred here in Upper Biddleton. One ruined female in this family is quite enough."

Gideon saw the letter addressed to him the minute he walked into the morning room at Hardcastle House. He plucked it off the silver salver that contained the day's post. He knew before he even broke the seal that the letter was from Harriet. Her handwriting was like everything else about her, full of energy, highly original, and distinctly feminine.

He realized immediately that the most likely reason for Harriet to be writing to him so soon was to inform him that she feared she was pregnant.

Gideon was aware of a deep surge of satisfaction and possessiveness at the prospect. He conjured up an image of Harriet rounded and soft with pregnancy and another of her holding his babe in her arms. They were both extremely pleasant pictures.

He could just imagine Harriet sketching a fossil with one hand while she held an infant to her breast with the other.

In the beginning Gideon had told himself it would be better if she were not with child. She would have enough to deal with as it was, just facing the prospect of marriage. He knew it was a very unsettling notion for her.

For his part, Gideon had wanted to put some of the gossip in Upper Biddleton to rest, if possible. For Harriet's sake, it would have been nice to be able to make it clear to all concerned that there would be no rush to the altar.

She was, after all, a rector's daughter.

But a hasty marriage with a special license was quite acceptable, he decided. It had the decided advantage of making it possible for him to move Harriet straight into his bed. The thought sent a rush of heat through his veins.

"Good morning, Gideon."

Gideon glanced up from Harriet's letter as his mother, Margaret, Countess of Hardcastle, floated through the doorway. A light, fragile-looking woman who was, Gideon well knew, much stronger than she appeared, Margaret always seemed to hover an inch or so above the ground. There was an airy, delicate quality about her that was well suited to her silver hair and the pastel colors she favored.

"Good morning, madam." Gideon waited until the butler had seated the countess and then he sat down at the table. He placed Harriet's letter next to his knife. He would read it later. He had not yet told his parents about his engagement.