"Yes, of course," Harriet said politely. Her eyes lingered longingly on the list in front of Gideon. It was obvious she would rather be working on it than going shopping.

"Oh, by the bye," Lady Hardcastle added as she paused briefly at the door, "it is time Harriet gave a soiree. I am helping her plan it. The invitations will be going out this afternoon. Do not make any other plans for next Tuesday evening."

Gideon waited until Harriet and his mother had left the library. Then he met his father's eyes across the desk.

"Harriet may be correct," Gideon said slowly.

"About what?"

"Perhaps I should explain myself and my plans to others more often. I have learned more about my list of suspicious persons this morning than I have managed to come up with on my own during the past several days."

Hardcastle chuckled. "You are not the only one who has learned a few things recently. Now, then, I have another suggestion. What do you say we drop in on a few of my clubs this afternoon? I can renew a few acquaintances, ask some questions and see if I cannot help you shorten this list still further."

"Very well," Gideon said.

He realized that somewhere along the line this morning, he had come to accept the notion of his father as his partner in this venture. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but not an unpleasant one.

There was a murmur of surprise when Gideon and his father walked into the club. Several of the earl's old cronies nodded, clearly pleased to see an old friend after so many years.

Before anyone could approach the pair, however, Applegate and Fry swooped down on them.

"Join us in a glass of port, sirs," Applegate invited jubilantly. He looked at Hardcastle. "We are toasting St. Justin's successful rout of Morland. Expect you have heard about it, Hardcastle. The story is all over Town today. The coward fled to the Continent rather than face your son."

"So I have been told."

"Must say, it puts an entirely new light on all that unpleasantness six years ago," Fry declared. He leaned confidentially toward the earl. "Lady St. Justin has clarified one or two points about those events, you know."

"Has she, indeed?" Hardcastle accepted a glass of port.

"And now this business with Morland more or less proves that all the gossip about the past was completely off the mark," Fry concluded. "St. Justin assuredly ain't no coward and he certainly ain't afraid to fight for a lady's honor. Furthermore, he's proved he's willing to do the right thing when necessary."

"Lady St. Justin has maintained that all along." Applegate shook his head. "You know how it is with gossip. Devilishly nasty stuff."

Two or three other men drifted over to pay their respects to Hardcastle. Then they turned to Gideon.

"Heard about Morland," one of them said. "We are well rid of him. Never quite trusted that man. Had his eye on my daughter last Season. Wanted to get his hands on her inheritance, no doubt. Silly chit thought she was in love with him. Wasn't easy talking her out of it."

"I say," his companion said to Gideon, "my wife tells me you have given your lady a spectacular mare. She's quite envious and wants me to select a new horse for her. Wonder if you'd give me your opinion at the Thursday sale at Tattersall's."

"I had not planned to attend the sale," Gideon said.

The man nodded quickly, flushing with embarrassment. "Quite understand. Did not mean to impose. Just thought if you happened to show up, you might give me a word of advice."

Gideon caught his father's narrow, warning glance and shrugged. "Certainly. If I am at Tattersall's on Thursday, I shall be happy to point out one or two animals that might be suitable for your lady."

The gentleman brightened. "Appreciate it. Well, then, I'll be off. No doubt I'll see you at the Urskins' ball this evening. Wife says we shall be putting in an appearance. Claims the whole world will be there to see you and Lady St. Justin."

The whole world, or at least the entire ton, was very much in evidence in the Urskins' ballroom that night. And it was obvious immediately that they had come to pay court to Gideon and Harriet.

Lord and Lady St. Justin had become all the rage overnight. The presence of the Earl and Countess of Hardcastle in Lady Urskin's ballroom was an added bonus for the proud hostess.

Effie and Adelaide were thrilled and extremely gratified at finding themselves connected to such a fashionable couple. Felicity found it all vastly amusing.

At the height of the evening, Hardcastle sought out Gideon where he stood near a window. It was the first time Gideon had been alone all night and he was relishing the moment of solitude.

"It is amazing how many friends you appear to have acquired lately." Hardcastle sipped his champagne as he surveyed the crowd.

"Isn't it? It would appear that as far as Society is concerned I have removed the stain on my honor. I owe it all to my amazing little wife."

"No," Hardcastle said with unexpected fierceness. "Thanks to your lady you have regained your reputation in Society's eyes. But your honor was always yours and yours alone. And you never tarnished it."

Gideon was so startled he nearly dropped his glass of champagne. He turned to stare at his father, not knowing what to say. "Thank you, sir," he managed at last.

"There is nothing to thank me for," the earl muttered. "I am proud to call you my son."

Chapter Nineteen

Harriet was in her bedchamber the next morning when Lady Hardcastle tracked her down. Harriet put aside her copy of a new essay on a natural history of the earth which she had purchased recently. She smiled at her mother-in-law.

"Good morning, Lady Hardcastle. I thought you would still be asleep. It is only ten o'clock and we had a very late night last night."

"Yes, it was dreadfully late, was it not? I fear I have grown accustomed to country hours. It would take time to get back into the habit of late nights." Lady Hardcastle floated over to a tiny chair by the window and sat down very lightly. "I wanted to talk to you, if you don't mind."

"Of course not."

Lady Hardcastle smiled gently. "I am not certain how I wish to begin. I suppose I should start by thanking you."

Harriet blinked. "For what?"

"Why, for all you have done for Gideon, naturally. And for what you have done for my husband and me, as well."

"But I have done nothing," Harriet protested. "Indeed, I obliged you to rush here on a fruitless errand and annoyed Gideon to no end in the process. I am just grateful the whole thing is over and done. With any luck we shall be leaving London soon to return to Upper Biddleton. I am really not very fond of Town life."

Lady Hardcastle's hand fluttered gracefully. "You do not comprehend me, my dear. I am thanking you for much more than this summons to London. You have given me back my son. I do not know if I can ever repay you."

Harriet stared at her. "Lady Hardcastle, that is vastly overstating the situation, I assure you."

"No, it is not. Six years ago after my eldest son died my spirits were depressed by the deepest melancholy I have ever experienced. I could not seem to emerge from it. Months passed. We even moved from Upper Biddleton to Hardcastle Hall because the doctor said the change might help me. When I finally began to awaken to life again, it was to learn that I had very nearly lost my second son."

"How terrible for you," Harriet said softly.

"My husband would not even speak to him or allow him in the house for quite some time. Everyone accused Gideon of the most dreadful behavior toward poor Deirdre Rushton. And after a while Gideon simply stopped denying it. He turned his back on all of us, and who could blame him?"

"But your husband gave him the responsibility of managing the Hardcastle estates."