What a delightful tidbit this little scene was going to make for the gossips tomorrow morning, Harriet thought resentfully. The ballroom was already humming with the tale.

One more outrageous act from the Beast of Blackthorne Hall.

Gideon talked casually of everything from the state of the weather to the size of the crowd that filled the Berkstones' ballroom. Harriet glared at a point just past his shoulder as he guided her around the floor.

"I see Fry and Applegate have arrived," Gideon murmured as the music came to an end. "You will have to excuse me, my dear. I have business to discuss with them."

Harriet turned on her heel and stalked stiffly back to join her friends. When she glanced back over her shoulder she saw Fry and Applegate hovering together with Gideon in what appeared to be a very serious conversation.

She was not the only one who noticed the trio. So did everyone else in the ballroom as word spread swiftly of what was happening.

"Rumors of a duel," Lady Youngstreet whispered darkly to Harriet when she returned to her friends. "Fry said it was all very secret, of course. He and Applegate are acting as St. Justin's seconds. Don't suppose you know any of the details?"

"No, I do not," Harriet stated firmly.

Effie came up to her a few minutes later. "The whole ballroom is agog. Is it true? St. Justin is going to fight a duel?"

"Not if I can help it," Harriet muttered.

Effie eyed her narrowly. "What is going on, Harriet? And what on earth was that outrageous business about a few minutes ago? St. Justin picked you up and carried you out onto the floor. Everyone is talking about it."

"People always talk about St. Justin," Harriet muttered. "I need a glass of lemonade. Or perhaps something stronger."

Lady Youngstreet beamed. "Here comes a footman with a tray. I sent for it earlier. Help yourself, my dear."

Harriet picked up the nearest glass, not noticing whether it was champagne or lemonade. She took a sip and stood tapping one satin-clad toe.

Effie frowned. "Try not to cause any more comment tonight, Harriet. There has been quite enough as it is."

"Yes, Aunt Effie."

Effie gave her one last quelling look and vanished into the crowd.

The small group of fossil enthusiasts gallantly tried to restart the conversation. But their efforts were thwarted when Clive Rushton appeared.

He elbowed his way straight into Harriet's small circle and fixed her with his unsettling gaze. A hush fell over the little group.

"So," Rushton said in a rasping voice. "You have succeeded in marrying the Beast. Congratulations, Lady St. Justin. For you are married to a murderer."

Harriet stared at him in shock. "How dare you, sir?"

Rushton ignored her and the horrified reaction of the small cluster of fossil hunters.

"How long?" Rushton intoned. "How long can you abide fornicating with the demon? How long before the Beast turns on you? How long will you be safe, Lady St. Justin?"

Harriet's hand was shaking with reaction. The glass she was holding wobbled precariously. "Please, sir. 'Tis obvious you are still crazed with grief even after all these years, and you have my deepest sympathy. But you must go away before St. Justin realizes you are talking to me like this."

"It is too late," Gideon said quietly as he materialized at Harriet's side. "I have already heard him."

Rushton's intense eyes swung to Gideon. "Murderer. You killed her. You killed my daughter." His voice rose to the full-throated roar he had no doubt cultivated in the pulpit. "Hear me now. The Beast of Blackthorne Hall will soon take another victim. His innocent wife will be driven to her death just as my innocent daughter was driven to hers."

Before anyone realized Rushton's intention, he grabbed the glass of champagne out of Lady Youngstreet's hand and dashed the contents straight into Gideon's face.

Rage swept through Harriet. "Do not call him a Beast, damn you."

She hurled the champagne in her own glass into Rush-ton's startled features. Then she launched herself at him.

Rushton took a step back in astonishment. He threw up his hands to protect himself.

Lady Youngstreet screamed. So did several other women who saw what was happening. The men stood watching helplessly, their expressions full of horror and confusion. No one moved.

Clearly no one knew the socially correct way to deal with a brawl in a ballroom that had been started by a lady.

No one except Gideon.

He took one step forward and caught Harriet just as she started to pummel Rushton. Gideon was laughing so hard he almost dropped her.

"Enough, madam." Gideon tossed her lightly over his shoulder and held her still with an arm around her thighs. "You have successfully defended my honor. The good Reverend Rushton is defeated, I believe. Is that not so, sir?"

Hanging over Gideon's shoulder as she was, Harriet had a hard time seeing what was going on. She twisted her head far enough around to see Rushton's furious features.

Rushton did not respond to Gideon's taunting. Instead he swung about and pushed his way through the stunned crowd toward the door of the ballroom.

Gideon lowered Harriet to her feet. She straightened her skirts and looked up to find him grinning down at her. His eyes were the color of molten gold.

"Another waltz, madam?" Gideon asked, bowing gallantly over her hand.

Harriet was so unnerved by the events that she went back into his arms without a word.

That night Gideon came to her room after she was in bed just as if everything was entirely normal between them.

The action infuriated Harriet, who had had an opportunity to recover from the scenes at the Berkstones's ball. She turned her back to him as he sauntered over to the bed.

"Did you enjoy the evening, my dear?" Gideon asked as he put his candle down on the end table.

Harriet possessed herself in stony silence.

"Yes, it was a rather tame affair, was it not? Quite dull, in fact." Gideon tossed his dressing gown onto a chair, pulled back the covers, and slid in beside her. He was naked. "You looked lovely, as always, however."

Harriet felt his arm go around her waist from behind. His hand rested on her breast. She tried to ignore it.

"Harriet, did you mean it earlier tonight when you said you loved me?"

That was too much. Harriet forgot her vow of silence. "For goodness' sake, Gideon, this is hardly the time to ask me that. I am furious with you."

"Yes, I know. You are not talking to me." He kissed the nape of her neck.

"No, I am not."

"But did you mean it?"

"Yes," she admitted, thoroughly disgruntled. His hand was sliding along her hip now and his leg was moving between hers. She could feel him searching out her softness. Her back was to him, but that did not seem to be deterring him in the least.

"I am glad," Gideon said. He pushed the hem of her gown up to her waist. "That was all I wanted to discuss at the moment. You do not need to say anything else if you would rather not. I will understand."

"Gideon—"

"Hush." He leaned over her, kissing her throat and the sensitive place behind her ear. His hand moved over her buttocks. One finger slid between the two soft globes.

Harriet shivered, her body warming immediately to his touch. "Gideon, I meant it when I said I was not speaking to you."

"I believe you." His finger traveled lower and eased slowly into her. He worked gently, drawing forth the damp heat, opening her, making her ready.

"Gideon, are you laughing at me?"

"I would never laugh at you, my sweet. But sometimes you do make me smile."

And suddenly his finger was gone and he was gently, slowly pushing his broad, hard shaft into her.

Even if Harriet had wanted to carry on a conversation at that point, she would have been unable to do so. Pleasure drove out all thought of speech.