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taking
    no chances. He decided to make it plain that there was no point putting off any midnight rendezvous in
    the cliff caves.
    "You may tell her to plan for an extended stay," Gideon said. "It has been some time since I spent any
    time here in Upper Biddleton and I find the sea air extremely pleasant. I expect I shall spend the spring
    here."
    Crane's mouth fell open. He worked to close it. "The spring, my lord? The entire spring?"
    "And perhaps the summer. As I recall, the seaside was always at its best in the summer. Odd. I had not
    realized how much I missed my family's lands here in Upper Biddleton."
    "I see." Crane ran his finger around his high collar. "We are, of course, extremely pleased that you have
    found time in your busy schedule to visit."
    "Plenty of time," Gideon assured him. He sat forward, picked up the ledger, and handed it to Crane.
    "You may go now. I have spent quite enough of the day on your excellently kept accounts. I find such
    petty details extremely tiresome."
    Crane snatched up the ledger and smiled weakly as he got hastily to his feet. He passed his yellowed
    handkerchief over his damp forehead one last time. "Yes, my lord. I understand. Very few gentlemen are
    interested in that sort of thing."
    "Precisely. That is why we hire men such as yourself. Good day, Mr. Crane."
    "Good day, my lord." Crane hurried to the door and let himself out of the library.
    Gideon waited, his gaze on the steady rain outside the window, until the door closed behind the steward.
    Then he rose and walked around the desk to the small table where the housekeeper had earlier placed a
    pot of tea.
    Gideon poured himself a cup of the strong brew and sipped it slowly. He was in a strange mood and he
    knew it was because he was back at Hardcastle after so many years of self-imposed exile.
    He had made none of the estates his permanent home. He did not feel comfortable at any of them.
    Instead he moved regularly from one to the other on the pretext of wanting to keep close watch on the
    lands. But the truth was, he simply needed to keep on the move. He needed to keep busy.
    He knew who was to blame for disrupting the relentless round of mind-numbing duties he had assumed
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    five years earlier.
    Once again he recalled the scene in the cavern that morning. He pictured Harriet Pomeroy's face when
    he had withdrawn a fortune in gems from the sack of hidden loot. There had not been so much as a
    flicker of genuine interest in her eyes, let alone the lust he would have expected. Most women would
    have been riveted by the sight of a diamond and gold necklace.
    Harriet's excitement had been reserved for a chunk of stone that contained a fossil tooth.
    And for his kiss , Gideon reminded himself. A wave of heat seized him again, just as it had in the cavern.
    She had responded to his kiss with the same enthusiasm and sense of wonder that she had exhibited for
    that damn moldering tooth.
    Gideon smiled wryly. He could not decide if he should be flattered or crushed at discovering that he
    compared favorably with an old fossil.
    He started toward the window and paused when he caught sight of himself in the mirror that hung over
    the hearth. Normally he did not spend much time gazing at his own reflection. It was hardly an edifying
    sight.
    But this afternoon he found himself deeply curious and not a little baffled by just what Harriet saw when
    she looked at him. Whatever it was, it had not put her off kissing him. And he knew she had not
    manufactured that sweet, innocent ardor. It had been utterly genuine.
    No, for some unfathomable reason, she had not been repulsed by his face. It was his deliberate and
    ungentle-manly threat to strip her naked and take her there on the floor of the cave that had finally
    succeeded in making her wary.
    Gideon winced at the recollection of his own outrageous behavior. Sometimes he could not help himself.
    Something within him