"Show me," he said, his hands already moving on her.

She did.

Six years ago Gideon had forgotten how to love. But Harriet dared to hope that he was relearning the skill.

The next morning Gideon retreated to the library directly after breakfast. He was in no mood to deal with either of his parents. They were in the house and there was little he could do about it. He could hardly kick them out. But he had decided that, as Harriet had invited them to London, Harriet could damn well entertain them.

Gideon told himself he had other, more important matters to attend to.

He sat at his desk and studied the final version of his list of suspicious persons. It had been an exacting and frustrating job trying to cull names of possible thieves from the guest lists. There were literally dozens of people who showed up on everyone's list.

Which was not to say that they had all accepted the invitations, of course. At any given time during the Season certain people were all the rage and received invitations to every soiree, ball, and card party. No one expected them to attend any but the most exclusive functions, however.

One of the problems Gideon faced was that he did not know how to tell who, after receiving an invitation, might have actually attended what. It struck him that he did not have a firm grasp on who was currently in fashion and who was not, who might have accepted an invitation and who would have disdained it.

It was all very complicated for a man who had been out of Society for the past six years.

The door opened just as Gideon was going through the long list one more time in an effort to refine it. His father walked hesitantly into the room and stopped.

"Your wife said I might find you in here," Hardcastle said.

"Was there something you wanted, sir?"

"I'd like a word with you, if you don't mind."

Gideon shrugged. "Please sit down."

The earl crossed the room and seated himself on the other side of the desk. "Busy, eh?"

"A project I have been working on for a few days now."

"I see. Well." Hardcastle glanced around the library and cleared his throat once or twice. "I realize you were unaware that Harriet had sent for your mother and me."

"Yes."

Hardcastle scowled. "Your lady meant well, you know."

"She overreacted to a situation that was entirely under control."

"Yes, well, trust you were not too hard on her last night. I know you were somewhat annoyed."

Gideon arched one brow. "Harriet and I discussed the matter. You need not be concerned for her."

"Damnation, man. What was it all about? A duel? With Morland? What in God's name possessed you to challenge Morland?"

"He attacked Harriet in Mr. Humboldt's Museum. She saved herself by hitting him over the head with a large stone. Unfortunately, he survived the experience. So I challenged him. All very simple and straightforward, really, but Harriet was alarmed by it all."

"Morland attacked Harriet?" Hardcastle was clearly shocked. "Why in hell would he do that?"

Gideon studied the guest list in front of him. "Probably because he knew he could not seduce her the way he had Deirdre." He checked off one of the names with his pen.

"Deirdre."

There was a long silence. Gideon did not look up. He continued checking off names.

"Are you telling me Morland seduced Deirdre Rushton six years ago?" Hardcastle finally asked.

"Yes. I believe I mentioned once or twice that she had been having an affair with another man and that I, myself, had never touched her."

"Yes, but—"

"But you thought the babe she carried was mine," Gideon said. "I do recall denying it on one or two occasions, but no one was paying much attention."

"She was a rector's daughter." But there was no defensive heat in his voice, just a great sadness. "And she told her housekeeper and her father that the child was yours. Why would she lie when she was going to kill herself?"

"I have often wondered that myself. But Deirdre told a great many lies during that time. What was one more?"

Hardcastle wrinkled his brow. "Did you know at the time that Morland had been with her?"

"She told me so herself that last night. Later, when it was all over, there was no way to prove it. Morland was still married at the time and his poor wife had enough to cope with as it was."

"His wife? I seem to remember her vaguely. A rather melancholy creature. No spirit."

Gideon paused, remembering. "Rumor had it that he was not kind to her. I saw no reason to accuse him publicly of seducing Deirdre. No one would have believed me and it would only have brought further distress to Morland's sad little wife."

"I see. I was aware that you no longer were seen in Morland's company, but I assumed it was because Morland had turned against you along with everyone else in Society. Instead it was you who cut off the friendship."

"Yes."

"It was a difficult time for all of us," Hardcastle said. "Your brother had died only a few months before. Your mother had still not recovered from the shock."

"Neither had you," Gideon said coldly. "It was becoming clear that you never would recover."

"He was my firstborn son," Hardcastle said slowly. "My only son for a long, long while. Your mother was unable to conceive for several years after Randal was born. He was all we had and he was everything a son and heir is supposed to be. It was, perhaps, inevitable that he was the favored one, even after you came along."

"And equally inevitable that I could never take his place in your eyes. You made that very clear, sir."

Hardcastle met Gideon's gaze. "As I said, it was a great shock losing Randal and then having to face the scandal of Deirdre's death a short time later. We needed time to adjust, Gideon."

"No doubt." Gideon looked down at his lists. At least he and his father were not yelling at each other, he thought. This was the first time they had ever actually talked about the past in reasonable tones. "There is something I would like to know. Did you ever believe any of the other tales that were whispered about?"

Hardcastle scowled. "Don't be an ass. Of course we never believed for one moment that you had anything to do with Randal's death. I admit I thought that you had behaved dishonorably toward Deirdre Rushton, but neither your mother nor I ever thought for one moment that you were a murderer."

Gideon met his father's clear, unflinching gaze and relaxed slightly. "I am glad." He had never known for certain which of the tales his parents had heard and believed. There had been so many stories going around six years ago, each worse than the last.

"What is that you are working on?" Hardcastle asked after a moment.

Gideon hesitated and then decided to explain. "I told you I was continuing to search for the mastermind behind the ring of thieves which was using the caves."

"I remember you saying it was probably someone who was accepted in Society and who also had an interest in the fossils. You, ah, mentioned that I was a likely candidate," Hardcastle murmured.

Gideon glanced up and saw the ironic gleam in his father's eyes. "You will be relieved to know that I have removed you from the list of suspicious persons."

"On what grounds?"

"On the grounds that you have not been going into Society lately. I need someone who is moving freely about in London, attending parties and the like," Gideon said. "You and mother have been living like hermits at Hardcastle House for years."

"My health, you know." The earl gave him a shrewd glance.

"As Harriet pointed out last night, your health did not keep you from rushing here to Town when you got her note."

"I have been feeling somewhat better of late."

Gideon smiled coolly. "No doubt because you are hopeful of gaining a grandson soon."