Page 20 of Ravished

"One or two items." Venable rocked on his heels and looked wise. "One or two. And you, my dear?"

Harriet smiled. "Why, nothing at all, I fear. As I said, I have so little time these days for collecting."

Venable was clearly searching for a way to probe further when a hush fell over the room. Harriet glanced around curiously. The music had just stopped, but that did not explain the sudden stillness that gripped the crowd. She realized all eyes were directed toward the door.

"Good God," Venable exclaimed in a startled tone. "It's St. Justin. What the devil is he doing here?"

Harriet's gaze flew to the entrance of the crowded room. Gideon stood there, a great predatory beast of the night that had wandered into a room full of prey.

He was dressed in stark black from his polished Hessians to his expertly tailored black jacket. Only his crisp, white cravat and white pleated shirt afforded relief from the overall impression of darkness. He swept the crowd with cold calculation.

"Haven't seen him in years," Venable muttered. "But I would recognize that hellacious scar anywhere. I had heard he was in the neighborhood. Damned great nerve to just drop in here tonight as if it were quite the ordinary thing."

Harriet got angry. "It is a public gathering," she said tartly. "And he is the largest landholder in the district. If you ask me, the local people should be proud and gratified to have him put in an appearance. Furthermore, I am astonished, sir, that you would make personal remarks about his scar. I do not find it the least offensive."

Venable scowled. "You're too kind, my dear. Comes of being reared as a rector's daughter, I imagine. St Justin's scar is indicative of his black character."

"Sir." Harriet was outraged.

"Forgot you wouldn't know the background. Just as well. The tale don't bear repeating to a young woman."

"Then I trust you will not repeat it," Harriet said repressively.

"Damnation, I believe St Justin is headed this way." Venable drew himself up and straightened his shoulders. "Have no fear, my dear."

"I don't." Harriet glanced across the room again and saw that Gideon was, indeed, making his way through the crowd to where she stood with Mr Venable.

The musicians hurriedly struck up another tune, effectively covering up the shocked murmurs of the crowd. Several young couples, including Felicity and a farmer's son, took to the floor.

Harriet smiled eagerly at Gideon as he made his way toward her. She could not wait to hear how he had dealt with his steward and to find out if he had contacted the Bow Street Runners yet. It was time they discussed plans for apprehending the thieves.

Gideon's dark brows rose at the sight of her cheerful smile. He came to a halt in front of her and inclined his head politely. His eyes gleamed in the light.

"Good evening, Miss Pomeroy. You are looking in very fine form tonight."

"Thank you, sir. It is a pleasure to see you again. I hope you are enjoying your stay in the neighborhood."

"As much as can be expected." Gideon glanced at Venable. "Hello, Venable. It's been a long time."

Venable frowned and edged closer to Harriet. "Evening, my lord. I had not realized you were acquainted with Miss Pomeroy."

"We've met," Gideon murmured. He turned his attention back to Harriet. "I wonder if I might have the pleasure of the next dance, Miss Pomeroy."

Harriet's eyes widened. "I am not an accomplished dancer, my lord."

"Neither am I. I have had very little practice in the past few years."

Harriet relaxed. "Oh, well, then, in that case, I should be delighted. Please excuse me, Mr Venable." She handed him her cup and saucer.

"Now, see here," Venable sputtered as he automatically accepted the dishes. "I am not at all certain your aunt would want you dancing without her permission, Miss Pomeroy."

"Nonsense." Harriet snapped her fan closed and put her fingertips on Gideon's sleeve. "My aunt will be positively thrilled to know that I managed to secure at least one dance this evening." She looked up at Gideon through her lashes. "Shall we, sir?"

"By all means, Miss Pomeroy." Gideon led her away from Venable.

"Where are we going?" Harriet demanded when she saw that he was drawing her toward the corner where the musicians were ensconced.

"To make a request." Gideon halted and leaned over to speak to the man who was wielding a violin. The musician nodded violently.

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