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alive, he would tell ye 'tis all true. He knew what had happened to the
    Reverend Rushton's daughter, right enough. But he kept his silence about it because he did not think it a
    proper sort of subject to be discussed in front of you two young ladies. When he told me I could
    continue in my post, he warned me I wasn't to speak of it. I've kept my silence, I have. But I cannot keep
    it any longer."
    Aunt Effie nodded in agreement. "No, of course you could not, Mrs. Stone. Now that St. Justin has
    returned to the neighborhood, all decent young ladies must be on their guard."
    "Ravished and abandoned." Felicity shook her head, awed. "Just imagine."
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    "Dreadful," Aunt Effie said. "Absolutely dreadful. Young ladies must be so very, very careful. Felicity,
    you are not to go out alone while the viscount is in the neighborhood. Do you understand?"
    "Oh, rubbish." Felicity appealed to Harriet. "You are not going to keep me a prisoner in my own home
    just because St. Justin happens to be visiting in the district, are you?"
    Harriet frowned. "No, of course not."
    Aunt Effie grew stern. "Harriet, Felicity must be careful. Surely you see that."
    Harriet looked up. "Felicity is a very level-headed female, Aunt Effie. She will not do anything foolish.
    Will you, Felicity?"
    Felicity grinned. "And lose my chance for a Season in Town? You may be certain I am not such an idiot
    as that, Harriet."
    Mrs. Stone's mouth tightened. "St. Justin has a taste for beautiful young innocents, the great, ravening
    beast. And now that your papa is no longer around to protect you, Miss Felicity, you must be careful."
    "Quite right," Aunt Effie agreed.
    Harriet arched a brow. "I take it neither of you is as concerned for my reputation as you are for
    Felicity's?"
    Aunt Effie was immediately contrite. "Now, dear, you know it is not that. But you are nearly
    five-and-twenty, after all. And the sort of lecherous rake Mrs. Stone is describing does tend to go for
    young innocents."
    "As opposed to old innocents such as myself," Harriet murmured. She ignored Felicity's teasing grin.
    "Ah, well, I suppose you are correct, Aunt Effie. I am hardly in danger of being ravished by St. Justin."
    She paused. "I seem to recall telling him as much earlier."
    "What on earth?" Aunt Effie stared at her.
    "Never mind, Aunt Effie." Harriet started toward the open door of the study. "I am certain Felicity will
    keep her head and anything else that is of any importance to her should she happen to find herself in the
    company of Viscount St. Justin. She is no fool. Now if you will excuse me, I must finish some work."
    Harriet made herself walk sedately into her small refuge and calmly close the door. Then, with a heartfelt
    groan, she sank into her chair, propped her elbows on the desk, and dropped her head into her hands. A
    deep shudder wracked her body.
    It was not Felicity who was the fool, she decided grimly. It was she, Harriet, who had been the foolish
    one. She had summoned the Beast of Blackthorne Hall back to Upper Biddleton.
    Chapter Three
    «^»
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    The thick gray fog that had rolled in from the sea during the night still clung tenaciously to the shore at ten
    o'clock the next morning. Harriet could not see more than a few feet in front of her as she made her way
    down the cliff path to the beach. She wondered if Gideon would keep the appointment she had set up for
    them to view the thieves' cavern.
    Harriet also wondered uneasily if she truly wanted him to keep the appointment. She had lain awake
    most of the night worrying that she had made a dreadful mistake in sending the fateful letter to the
    notorious viscount.
    Her sturdy leather half boots skidded on some pebbles as she hurried down the steep path. Harriet took
    a firmer grip on her small bag of tools and reached out with her free hand to balance herself