Page 8 of Ravished

"The demon has returned to the scene of his crime," Mrs. Stone continued.

"Who in the world is the Beast of Blackthorne Hall?" Felicity asked.

"St. Justin." Mrs. Stone moaned. "How dare he? How dare he come back here? And how dare he threaten Miss Harriet?"

Felicity glanced at Harriet, eyes wide with interest. "Good heavens. Viscount St. Justin was here?"

"Yes, he was," Harriet admitted.

Aunt Effie's mouth fell open. "The viscount was here? Right here in this house?"

"That is correct," Harriet said. "Now, Aunt Effie, if you and Felicity will kindly restrain your astonishment, perhaps we can see about getting Mrs. Stone back on her feet."

"Harriet, I do not want to believe this," Aunt Effie said in a horrified voice. "Are you telling me that the most important landholder in this district, an actual viscount who is in line for an earldom, paid a call upon us and you received him dressed as you are now? Wearing that filthy old apron and that ghastly gown that should have been redyed months ago?"

"He just happened to be passing by," Harriet explained, trying for a blithe tone.

"Just happened to be passing by?" Felicity burst into laughter. "Really, Harriet, viscounts and the like never 'just happen to be passing' our little cottage."

"Why not?" Harriet demanded testily. "Blackthorne Hall is his home and it is not all that far from here."

"Viscount St. Justin has never even bothered to come to Upper Biddleton, let alone pass by our house, in the entire five years we've lived here. Indeed, Papa said he only met St. Justin's father, the earl himself, a single time. That was in London when Hardcastle appointed him rector and gave him the living of this parish."

"Felicity, you must take my word for it. St. Justin was indeed here and it was a simple social call," Harriet said firmly. "It seems perfectly natural to me that he would pay a visit to his family's estates in this district."

"They say in the village that St. Justin never comes to Upper Biddleton. That he hates the sight of the place." Aunt Effie fanned herself with her hand. "Good heavens. I do believe I feel a bit faintish myself. A viscount here in this cottage. Just imagine."

"I would not be so taken with the notion, if I was ye, Mrs. Ashecombe." Mrs. Stone gave Effie a dark, woman-to-woman look. "He put his hands on Miss Harriet. I saw him. Thank the good Lord I walked into the study just in time."

"Just in time for what?" Felicity's interest was obviously piqued.

"Never ye mind, Miss Felicity. Ye be too young to know about that sort o' thing. Just ye be thankful I weren't too late this time."

"Too late for what?" Felicity demanded.

Harriet sighed.

Aunt Effie frowned at her. "What did happen, Harriet, dear? We were not out of tea, or anything terrible like that, were we?"

"No, we were not out of tea, although I did not think to offer him any," Harriet admitted.

"You did not offer him tea? A viscount came to call and you did not think to offer him refreshment?" Aunt Effie's expression was one of genuine shock now. "Harriet, whatever am I going to do with you? Have you no social graces at all?"

"I want to know what happened," Felicity interrupted swiftly. "What is all this about the man putting his hands on you, Harriet?"

"Nothinghappened and nothing at all was going to happen," Harriet snapped. "The man did not put his hands on me." Belatedly she recalled her chin perched on the edge of the viscount's huge fist and the grim look of warning in his tawny eyes. "Well, he may have put a hand on me, but only briefly. Nothing to speak of, I assure you."

"Harriet. " Felicity was clearly enthralled now. "Do tell us everything."

But it was Mrs. Stone who responded. "Bold as the devil, he was." Her work-worn hands twisted in the folds of her apron as her eyes glowed with righteous indignation. "Thinks he can get away with anything. The Beast has no shame at all." She sniffed.

Harriet scowled at the housekeeper. "Mrs. Stone, please do not start crying."

"I'm sorry, Miss Harriet." Mrs. Stone made another little snuffling noise and wiped her eyes with the hem of her apron. " 'Tis just that seein' him again after all these years brought back so many dreadful memories."

"What memories?" Felicity asked with avid curiosity.

"Memories of my beautiful little Miss Deirdre." Mrs. Stone dabbed at her eyes.

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