Page 97 of Ravished

A surge of elation went through Gideon. For a moment he could not think coherently. "Harriet."

"Yes, yes, I know, it is a nuisance for you and I am well aware that you do not love me," she said swiftly. "That is not the point. The point is that we have agreed to make a go of this marriage and if we are to do so, then you will have to respect my wishes in certain matters."

"Harriet—"

"And this is one of those matters, my lord," she concluded fiercely. "I will not allow you to go about fighting duels on my behalf. Sooner or later someone will get hurt."

"Harriet, will you kindly hush for one moment?"

"Yes," she retorted. "Yes, I will hush. As a matter of fact, I shall give you perfect silence, if that is your wish, my lord."

"Excellent."

" In point of fact, sir, I am not going to speak to you until you have put an end to this foolishness. Do you understand me, my lord?"

Gideon narrowed his eyes. "Not speak to me? You? Keep silent for more than fifteen minutes? That should be amusing."

"You heard me. Not one more word. As of this moment, I am no longer speaking to you, sir."

Harriet swung around on her heel and marched out of Gideon's bedroom.

Gideon stared after her, torn between a mad desire to shout for joy and an equally strong wish to turn the little shrew over his knee.

She loved him.

Gideon hugged the knowledge close to his heart, the way he held Harriet herself in the middle of the night.

Chapter Seventeen

The gossip about the rumored challenge between Gideon and Morland was almost overwhelmed by the gossip about what soon came to be known throughout thetonas the Quarrel.

All of Society, much to Harriet's disgust, appeared to be fascinated by her refusal to talk to her husband. Word spread like wildfire that evening at the ball. The Bride of the Beast of Blackthorne Hall was giving her lord the cold shoulder. Speculation was rife concerning the cause of the Quarrel.

Ultimately Harriet's reasons for refusing to talk to her husband were far less interesting to Society than the fact that the Quarrel itself was proving such delightful entertainment.

Harriet soon learned it was exceedingly difficult to ignore Gideon when he chose not to be ignored. And he seemed to delight in baiting her in public.

She was involved in an absorbing conversation with a group of fossil enthusiasts at the ball when Gideon appeared. He had been mercifully absent all evening until now. But at eleven o'clock he strode through the door and made his way straight toward Harriet. As usual, he did not bother to greet anyone along the way.

"Good evening, my dear," he said calmly as he came to a halt in front of her. "I believe they are about to play a waltz. Will you dance with me?"

Harriet lifted her chin and turned her back to him. She plunged back into the conversation as if her very large husband were not looming directly over her.

The group of people around her made a valiant effort to continue the discussion of marine fossils, but it was obvious no one could concentrate on it now. They were all far too curious about this latest development. Harriet might be able to ignore the Beast, but no one else could.

Gideon did not appear to notice that he had been rebuffed. "Thank you, my dear. I knew you could not refuse a waltz."

Harriet gave a muffled shriek of surprise when Gideon's massive hands closed around her waist from behind.

He picked her up and carried her effortlessly out onto the floor amid a flood of stifled giggles and disapproving gasps. He set her on her feet, took her into his arms, and swept her into the waltz. There was no escape from the gentle prison of his arms.

Harriet glowered up at him.

Gideon smiled down at her. His tawny eyes gleamed. "At a loss for words, my dear?"

She longed to lecture him, but could not. To do so would be to break her vow of silence. There was nothing for it but to finish the blasted waltz. Harriet was acutely aware of the fascinated stares and murmured comments from those around her.

What a delightful tidbit this little scene was going to make for the gossips tomorrow morning, Harriet thought resentfully. The ballroom was already humming with the tale.

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