Page 56 of Ravished

"You do not need to concern yourself with fashion, Harriet. You will set your own style."

"It sounds to me as thoughyouare trying to set my style." Harriet turned her head to avoid the frank gaze of a man on horseback. She was sure he said something quite odious to his friend as they passed the phaeton. An unpleasant laugh drifted back on the breeze.

"I am trying to avoid trouble," Gideon said quietly. "You are a sensible woman, Harriet. You have trusted me before and you must trust me again. Stay clear of Morland."

"Why?" she demanded baldly.

Gideon's jaw tightened. "I do not think it is necessary to go into the reasons."

"Well, I do. I am not a green chit fresh out of the schoolroom, my lord. If you wish me to do something or not do something, you must explain why." A thought struck her, squelching her incipient defiance. She smiled tremulously. "If you are jealous of Mr. Morland, I assure you, there is no need. I did not enjoy dancing the waltz with him nearly as much as I enjoy it with you."

"This is not a question of jealousy. It is a question of common sense. Need I remind you, Harriet, that we are in our present situation precisely because you did not follow my instructions on another occasion?"

Harriet winced, momentarily subdued by guilt. She could not deny that it was her failure to stay safely at home on the night the thieves had been trapped that had led to Gideon's proposal. She tried to rally her spirits.

"I admit I am somewhat at fault, my lord. But if you had included me in your plans as I requested, I would have been more cautious that night. You have a tendency to be very autocratic, sir, if you do not mind my saying so. It is a most unpleasant habit."

Gideon glanced at her. One dark brow rose. "If that is the only fault you can find in me, then I think we shall deal very well with each other, my dear."

She gave him a disgruntled look. "It is a major fault, sir, not a minor one."

"Only in your eyes."

"My eyes are the only ones that matter," she retorted.

A slow, faint smile curved Gideon's mouth. "I'll grant you that much. Your eyes are, indeed, the only ones that matter. And you have very beautiful eyes, Harriet. Have I told you that?"

She warmed instantly to the compliment. "No, sir, you have not."

"Then allow me to do so now."

"Thank you." Harriet blushed as the phaeton moved on down the park path. She was not accustomed to being told she had any fine points. "Felicity said the color of this bonnet would bring out my eyes."

"It does indeed." Gideon was obviously amused.

"But do not think that gallantry will make me forget your odious tendency to issue orders, sir."

"I will not forget, my dear."

She slid him a calculating glance. "Are you sure you will not tell me why it is you wish me to avoid Mr. Morland?"

"Suffice it to say he is not the angel he appears."

Harriet frowned. "Do you know, that is exactly what I thought he looked like last night. An archangel out of an old painting."

"Do not confuse appearances with reality."

"I will not, my lord," she said stiffly. "I am not a fool."

"I know," Gideon said gently. "But you have a tendency to be rather obstinate and headstrong."

"It seems only fair that I should have a flaw or two equal to your own," Harriet said sweetly.

"Hmm."

Harriet was about to pursue the subject of Bryce Morland when a familiar face appeared out of the crowd of riders on the path. She smiled in welcome at Lord Applegate, who was riding a sleek, prancing black gelding. The animal was fashionable in all the ways that Gideon's horses were not. It had a fine-boned, high-spirited elegance which perfectly complemented its rider's equally elegant attire.

"Good afternoon, Miss Pomeroy. St. Justin." Applegate guided his graceful gelding alongside the yellow phaeton. His eyes lingered wistfully on Harriet's face framed in her ruffled turquoise bonnet. "You are looking exquisite today, Miss Pomeroy, if I may say so."

---