She knew Aunt Effie was opposed to the whole matter of fossil hunting in the first place. Effie considered it an unseemly occupation for a young woman and could not comprehend why Harriet was so passionately devoted to her interest. Harriet did not want to alarm the older woman any further by pursuing her fossils in a pair of breeches.

Heavy tendrils of mist coiled around Harriet as she reached the bottom of the path and paused to adjust the weight of the bag she carried. She could hear the waves lapping at the shore, but she could not see them in the dense fog. The damp chill seeped through the heavy wool of her shabby dark brown pelisse.

Even if Gideon did put in an appearance this morning, he probably would not be able to find her in this fog, Harriet thought. She turned and started along the beach at the base of the cliffs. The tide was out, but the sand was still damp. When the tide was in, there was no beach visible along this stretch at all. The seawaters lapped against the cliffs at high tide, flooding the lower caves and passageways.

Once or twice Harriet had made the mistake of lingering too long in her explorations inside the caves and had very nearly been trapped by the incoming tide. Memories of those occasions still haunted her and caused her to time her trips into the caverns with great care.

She walked slowly along the base of the cliffs, searching for footprints in the sand. If Gideon had come this way a few minutes ahead of her she would surely be able to distinguish the imprint his huge boots would leave. Again she questioned the wisdom of what she had done.

In summoning Gideon back to Upper Biddleton she had obviously gotten more than she had bargained for.

On the other hand, Harriet told herself bracingly, something had to be done about the ring of thieves who were using her precious caves as a storage facility. She could not allow them to continue on as they were now. She simply had to be free to explore that particular cavern.

There was no telling what excellent fossils were waiting to be discovered in that underground chamber. Furthermore, Harriet reminded herself, the longer she allowed the villains to use the cave, the graver the risk that one of them might be shrewd enough to start digging for fossils himself. He might find something interesting and mention it to someone else, who might just mention it to another collector. Upper Biddleton might be overrun with fossil hunters.

It was unthinkable. The bones waiting to be discovered in these caves belonged to her.

Other collectors had explored the caves of Upper Biddleton in the past, of course, but they had all given up the search after finding nothing more interesting than a few fossil fish and some shells. But Harriet had gone deeper than anyone else and she sensed there were important discoveries waiting to be made. She had to find out what secrets lay in the stone.

No, there was no choice but to proceed along her present course, Harriet decided. She needed someone powerful and clever to help her get rid of the thieves. What did it matter if Gideon was a dangerous rogue and a blackguard? What better way to handle the thieves than to set the infamous Beast of Blackthorne Hall on them?

Serve them right.

At that moment the fog seemed to swirl around her in a slightly altered pattern. Harriet halted abruptly, aware that she was no longer alone on the beach. Something was making the hair on the nape of her neck stir. She whirled around and saw Gideon materialize out of the mist. He walked toward her.

"Good morning, Miss Pomeroy." His voice was as deep as the roar of the sea. "I had a feeling you would not be deterred by the fog."

"Good morning, my lord." Harriet steadied her nerves as she watched him stride forward across the damp, packed sand. It seemed to her overwrought imagination that he was emerging from the mist like a demon beast moving through the smoke of hell. He was even larger than she remembered.

He was wearing black boots, black gloves, and a black, heavily caped greatcoat with a high collar that framed his scarred face. His black hair was bare and it glistened with morning mist.

"As you can see, I have obeyed your command yet again." Gideon smiled with faint irony as he came to a halt and stood looking down at her. "1 must watch this tendency to jump to do your bidding, Miss Pomeroy. I would not want it to become a habit."

Harriet drew herself up and managed a polite smile. "Have no fear, my lord. I am certain you are not likely to get in the habit of obeying others unless you happen to feel like doing so for your own purposes."

He dismissed that with a slight shrug of one large shoulder. "Who knows what a man will do when he is dealing with an interesting female?" His cold smile twisted his ruined face into a dangerous mask. "I await your next order, Miss Pomeroy."

Harriet swallowed and busied herself adjusting the weight of her cumbersome bag. "I have brought along two lamps, my lord," she said quickly. "We shall need them inside the passageway."

"Allow me." Gideon took the bag from her fingers. It dangled from his huge hand, seemingly weightless. "I shall deal with the equipment. Lead on, Miss Pomeroy. I am curious to see your cavern full of stolen goods."

"Yes. Of course. Right this way." She turned and hurried forward through the mist.

"You do not seem quite so certain of yourself this morning, Miss Pomeroy." Gideon sounded amused as he stalked silently along behind her. "I suspect someone, probably the good Mrs. Stone, has given you a few lurid details about my past history here in Upper Biddleton?"

"Nonsense. I am not interested in your past, sir." Harriet made a desperate effort to keep her voice very cool and extremely firm. She did not dare look back over her shoulder as she hastened across the sand. "It is no concern of mine."

"In that case, I must warn you that you should never have summoned me in the first place," he murmured with silky menace. "I fear I cannot be separated from my past. Where I go, it goes. The fact that I am in line for an earldom is extremely useful in getting people to overlook my past on occasion, but there is no denying I cannot shake it entirely. Especially here in Upper Biddleton."

Harriet glanced quickly over her shoulder, frowning intently at the veiled emotion she sensed in his voice. "Does it bother you, my lord?"

"My past? Not particularly. I long ago learned to live with the fact that I am perceived as a fiend from the nether regions. To be perfectly frank, my reputation has its uses."

"Good heavens. What uses?" Harriet demanded.

His expression hardened. "It serves to keep me from being pestered by marriage-minded mamas, for one thing. They are extremely cautious about throwing their daughters in my path. They are terrified that I will shamelessly ravish their fledglings, have my wicked way with them, and then cast the poor things aside as soiled goods."

"Oh." Harriet swallowed.

"Which they would most certainly be," Gideon continued evenly. "Soiled, that is. It would be quite impossible to put a young girl back on the Marriage Mart after it got around that she had ruined herself with me."

"I see." Harriet coughed a bit to clear her throat and hurried forward a little faster. She could feel Gideon behind her, although she could not hear his footsteps on the packed sand. The very silence of his movement was unnerving because she was so vividly conscious of his size and presence. It was, indeed, like having a great beast on her heels.

"In addition to not pestering me with their young innocents," Gideon continued relentlessly, "not a single parent in recent memory has attempted to force me to make an offer by employing the old trick of accusing me of having compromised his daughter. Everyone knows such a ploy is highly unlikely to work."