Page 106 of Ravished

Gideon clamped a hand around the carved bedpost at the foot of the bed. He had undressed except for his breeches. The candlelight highlighted the contoured muscles of his broad shoulders and chest as he loomed in the shadows. His eyes glinted.

"I am not pleased with you, madam," Gideon said grimly.

"Yes, I can see that, my lord."

"How dare you take it upon yourself to issue an invitation to my parents?"

"I was desperate. You were running about London making plans for a duel and you would not listen to me. I had to find a way to stop you."

"I had everything under control," Gideon raged. He released the bedpost and moved closer. "Everything except you, obviously.Damnation, woman. A man is supposed to be master in his own home."

"Well, you are master in this home. For the most part." Harriet tried a placating smile. "But now and again one or two things pop up which require me to take forceful action. You were in one of your stubborn moods and you refused to listen to me."

"The business with Morland was my affair."

"It also involved me, Gideon. You challenged him in the first place because of me."

"That is beside the point."

"No, it is not." Harriet drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. "I was just as involved as you were. Why are you so angry?"

"You know why. Because you did not consult with me before you summoned my parents." Gideon's voice was harsh. "I do not want them here. I am barely on speaking terms with them, in case you had failed to notice. I cannot imagine what you thought sending for them would accomplish."

"They care about you and I knew they would be concerned that you were planning to risk your neck in a duel."

"Concerned about me? Bloody hell. The only reason they would care if I got killed in a duel is that it would mean the end of the line."

"How can you say that? You saw your mother's face tonight when we walked into the library She was very much alarmed for you."

"Very well, I will allow that my mother may still retain some feeling for me. But all my father wants from me is a grandson, and for that he needs me alive. But do not fool yourself into believing he actually cares what happens to me beyond that."

"Oh, Gideon, I am certain that is not true." Harriet scrambled to her knees and touched his arm. "Your father does care about you. It is just that he is every bit as stubborn and arrogant and proud as you are. In addition, he is a great deal older than you are. Probably much more set in his ways."

"I may not have his years of experience," Gideon bit out, "but I can be just as set in my ways as he can. Trust me."

"Rubbish. You are much more tolerant and flexible than he is."

Gideon's brows rose. "I am?"

"Certainly. Just look at how much you tolerate from me."

"There is that," Gideon muttered. "I have tolerated far too much from you, madam."

"Gideon, I am trying to make a point here. Listen to me. If you wish to be on friendly terms with your father again, you must make it easy for him. He will not know how to break down the walls that have built up over the past six years."

"Why should I bother to be on friendly terms with him? He is the one who turned his back on me."

"Not completely, Gideon. He has trusted you with the management of his estates."

"He did not have much choice," Gideon retorted. "I'm the only son he's got left."

"He has not cut off all communication," Harriet continued. "You go to visit him fairly often. Look how you dashed off to see him after we spent the night in the cave."

"My father only issues a command for me to visit when he thinks he is dying."

"Perhaps he feels he must use his health as an excuse to summon you."

Gideon stared at her. "Good God. How in hell's name did you reach that conclusion?"

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