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exclaimed.
    Mrs. Stone nodded mournfully. "Abandoned her straightaway, he did, even though he knew she was carrying his babe. Told her that now that he was Viscount St. Justin and would someday be the Earl of Hardcastle, he could do better than a poor rector's daughter."
    "Good grief." Harriet recalled the calculating intelligence in Gideon's tawny gaze. Now that she considered the matter, she had to admit it was difficult to see him as one who would be swayed by the gentler emotions, at least not if he had other goals in mind. There was something quite unyielding about the man. She shivered. "You say he knew Deirdre was with child?"
    "Yes, damn his soul. He knew it." Mrs. Stone's hands clenched and unclenched. "I sat up with her the night she realized she was carrying the babe. I held her while she cried all night, and in the morning she went to see him. And when she came back from the great house, I knew by the look on her face that he had cast her aside." The tears welled up in Mrs. Stone's eyes and trickled down her broad cheeks.
    "What happened next?" Felicity asked in a stunned little voice.
    "Miss Deirdre went into the study, took her father's pistol down from the wall, and shot herself. 'Twas the Reverend Rushton, poor man, who found her."
    "That poor, ill-fated child," Aunt Effie whispered. "If only she had been more cautious. If only she had had a care for her reputation and not put her trust in a gentleman. You will remember this story when you get to London, won't you, Felicity, dear?"
    "Yes, Aunt Effie. I'm not likely to forget it." Felicity appeared genuinely impressed by the harrowing tale.
    "My God," Harriet murmured. "It is all so unbelievable." She glanced into the fossil-littered study and swallowed hard as she remembered the way St. Justin had leaned over her desk and put his powerful hand under her chin. "Mrs. Stone, are you absolutely certain of your facts?"
    "Absolutely. If yer papa was still 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."
    "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