Page 3 of Ravished

"I fear I must insist on proof, sir. As I said, I cannot be too careful."

Gideon considered the situation and did not know whether to laugh or curse. Unable to come to a decision, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a letter. "You sent this to me, I believe, Miss Pomeroy. Surely the fact that it is in my possession is sufficient proof I am St. Justin."

"Oh, yes. My letter." She smiled in relief. "So you did get it. And you came at once. I knew you would. Everyone says you do not care about anything that goes on here in Upper Biddleton, but I knew that could not be true. After all, you were born here, were you not?"

"I have that distinction, yes," Gideon said dryly.

"Then you must have firm ties to the soil. Your roots are forever grounded in this place, even though you have chosen to settle on one of your other estates. You are bound to feel a sense of duty and responsibility to this region."

"Miss Pomeroy—"

"You could not turn your back on the village that nurtured you. You are a viscount, heir to an earldom. You know the meaning of obligation and—"

"Miss Pomeroy." Gideon held up a hand to silence her. He was somewhat surprised when the tactic worked. "Let us be clear about something here, Miss Pomeroy. I am not overly concerned with the fate of Upper Biddleton, only that my family's lands here continue to be productive. Should they cease to provide a suitable income, I assure you I will sell them out of hand."

"But most of the people in this area are dependent on you in one way or another for their livelihood. As the largest landholder in the neighborhood you provide the economic stability for the entire region. Surely you realize that."

"My interests in Upper Biddleton are financial, not emotional."

Harriet looked briefly disconcerted at that pronouncement, but she rallied instantly. "You are teasing me, my lord. Of course you care about the fate of this village. You have come in response to my letter, have you not? That is proof that you care."

"I am here out of sheer, undiluted curiosity, Miss Pomeroy. Your letter was nothing less than a royal command. I am not accustomed to being summoned by young chits whom I have never even met, much less being lectured by them on the subject of my duties and responsibilities. I must admit I was extremely interested to meet the female who felt she had the right to do so."

"Oh." Harriet's expression grew cautious. For the first time since he had arrived, she appeared to comprehend the fact that Gideon was not altogether pleased by the meeting she had arranged. She tried a tentative smile. "Forgive me, my lord. Was my letter perhaps a shade peremptory in tone?"

"That is putting it mildly, Miss Pomeroy."

She nibbled briefly on her lower lip, studying him intently. "I will admit that I have a slight tendency to be a bit, shall we say, blunt?"

"Forcefulmight be a better word. Or perhapsdemanding. Eventyrannical."

Harriet sighed. "It comes of having to make decisions all the time, I suppose. Papa was a wonderful man in many respects, but he preferred to concern himself with the religious concerns of his flock rather than the practical matters of daily life. Aunt Effie is a dear, but she was not raised to take charge of things, if you know what I mean. And my sister is just leaving the schoolroom. She has not had much experience of the world."

"You have long since taken control of this household and have, therefore, gotten in the habit of taking command and issuing orders in other matters as well," Gideon concluded. "Is that what you are saying, Miss Pomeroy?"

She smiled, obviously pleased at his perception. "Precisely. I see you do comprehend. I am certain you are aware that in any given situation someone has to make decisions and supply direction."

"Rather like on board ship?" Gideon stifled a fleeting grin as he imagined Harriet Pomeroy in command of one of His Majesty's ships of the line. She would look quite arresting in a naval uniform, he decided. Based on what he had observed thus far, he was willing to wager a sizable sum that Miss Pomeroy's derriere would do interesting things to a pair of breeches.

"Yes, just like on board ship," Harriet said. "Well, in this household, that someone who makes the decisions is generally me."

"I see."

"Now, then. I seriously doubt that you have come all this way from your estates in the north simply to satisfy your curiosity about a female who wrote you in somewhat forceful terms. You do care about matters here in Upper Biddleton, my lord. Admit it."

Gideon shrugged, inserting the letter back into his pocket. "I will not argue the point, Miss Pomeroy. I am here, so let us get on with the matter. Perhaps you will be so kind as to tell me exactly what thisdark menaceis that you alluded to in your letter and why it must be handled withgrave discretion?"

Harriet's soft mouth curved wryly. "Oh, dear. In addition to sounding somewhat peremptory, I did express myself in somewhat sinister tones, did I not? My letter must have sounded like something out of one of Mrs. Radcliffe's gothic novels."

"Yes, Miss Pomeroy, it did." Gideon saw no reason to mention that he had reread the letter on several occasions. There had been something about the spirited appeal for assistance and the lively, if overly dramatic turn of phrase which had made him very curious to meet the author in person.

"Well, the thing is, sir, I wanted to be certain to get your full attention."

"I assure you that you have it."

Harriet sat forward again, clasping her hands in front of her once more in a businesslike manner. "To be perfectly blunt, my lord, I have recently learned that Upper Biddleton is apparently being used as a headquarters for a ring of dangerous thieves and cutthroats."

Gideon's wry amusement dissolved. He wondered suddenly if he was dealing with a madwoman. "Perhaps you would care to clarify that observation, Miss Pomeroy?"

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