“My goodness. You’ve shadows under your eyes,” her mother said at breakfast. I thought the country air would be invigorating.”

“So much has happened, Mama, I’m not sleeping well.”

“Yes I agree. It does disturb one, being here under these circumstances, although the constable is here every day, and the house locked up tight at night. He assures us we are in no danger. Perhaps I should get a draught made up for you when we return to London.”

“No. Please don’t, Mama. I only need a good night’s sleep.”

Her mother placed her hand on Harriett’s forehead. “No fever. Put out your tongue.” As Harriett obliged, Gerard walked into the room. He paused on the threshold with a wicked grin that sent her emotions tumbling out of control. Her mother felt her cheek. “You do look flushed.”

“I’m fine, Mama. Please don’t fuss. Good morning Gerard.”

Her mother turned. “Oh. Good morning, Gerard. Have you eaten?”

“I’d be grateful for a cup of tea; I’ve been up since dawn.”

Harriett doubted he’d ever got to bed.

Her mother removed the warmer and poured him a cup. “What have you planned for today?”

“Just to make sure life at Pendleton goes on as normally as possible. I’ll question the staff. Some may want to find another position. Then I must return to my own work.”

“You could employ someone to do the work for you at Foxworth, surely?” Mama said, pouring him a cup of tea.

He took the cup and saucer with a nod of thanks, and popped in a lump of sugar. “I could,” he said, stirring it. “But I enjoy physical labor.”

“Most gentlemen of our acquaintance ride and box and those other manly pursuits, but few appear quite as fit as you.”

When Gerard put down his teacup, her mother rose from the table. She bent and gathered up her cashmere shawl and lorgnette, failing to catch Gerard’s wink at Harriett and Harriett’s grin in response.

“We shall leave you to your inquiries. Come Harriett. I want to visit the kitchens.”

An hour later, Harriett saw     Gerard leave for Foxworth. He’d been very firm about them not meeting at night again, but she wasn’t going back to London without carrying out her plan. She’d have to be more resourceful.

Harriett had no idea how he planned to catch the murderer, he’d flatly refused to tell her. Called into service by her mother, they performed an inventory of the house from the linen cupboards to the pantry, and directed the staff to clean and air rooms that had been shut up for years. In a house of Pendleton’s size, this proved an enormous task.

A letter from Leonora set their mother into whoops of delight. She was enjoying her stay in London immensely. She’d hastily scrawled details of her new fringed, hand-painted silk parasol, and the stylish jockey cap she’d bought while shopping in New Bond Street. She’d danced with a viscount, the eldest son of a duke, twice, at Almack’s, and set all the mamas talking. He had driven her and Aunt Georgina down the South Carriage Drive at Hyde Park in his barouche, where the haute ton came to be seen. He knew positively everyone. He was quite old though, and not terribly handsome.

“How old, I wonder?” Mama asked rhetorically.

It seemed unlikely to Harriett that Leonora would choose him rather than Gerard, duke’s heir or no.

At luncheon, her father announced that the constable had finished interviewing the staff. Now that Mama had the house running smoothly, he saw no reason for them to remain here longer than the end of the week. They need not return for the inquest.

She chewed her lip at the renewed sense of urgency. “Oh, but Father, surely we should attend?”

“There’s no need. The magistrate will send me the findings.” He smiled. “Although I must say I’ve enjoyed country life again.”

Her father now had a ruddy complexion, he’d spent most of each day out of doors, riding around the estate. Although the inheritance of two thousand pounds hardly brought long term relief to the family, it paid some urgent bills, and banished the anxiety from his eyes.

He put down his coffee cup and rose from the table, smiling at her mother. “I believe I’ll take an afternoon nap. Will you join me, Rebecca?”

Mama flushed. “Yes, I have been working hard all morning.” She glanced at Harriett. “I’m sure you’ll find something useful to do, dear.”

“I might take a walk,” Harriett said.

Swamped with a sense of yearning, she watched her parents mount the stairs, her father’s arm around her mother’s waist. She wanted a marriage like theirs, but it seemed unlikely. She wasn’t prepared to settle for second best. Harriett grew even more determined to have her one moment of passion with the man of her dreams, to warm her through the long years ahead. She must act quickly, for time was now of the essence, with their departure only days away.

She put on her bonnet and walked into the garden. It was a perfect, warm summer’s day. As she tramped along, her spirits, which could never stay low for long, lifted as she plotted her next move. Walking helped her to think, her plan still in its infancy. First, she’d have to find a way for her and Gerard to be alone again. At night, preferably. A seduction should take place at night as bright daylight might prove to be embarrassing. She wasn’t entirely sure how one went about seducing a man, although kissing appeared to be a good start. He seemed more than willing to kiss her. She wished she had been able to observe the lovers more closely. Their love-making took far less time than she would have expected. Perhaps she might find a helpful book in the library. The manor library contained a huge number of tomes. But would Harrison have read such books? She shrugged. He had turned out to be someone quite surprising. It could account for what Aunt Elizabeth saw in him all those years ago, when as the daughter of a duke, she’d created a family brouhaha by marrying an earl’s second son with no estate.

Harriett returned to the house and entered the library. She wandered around the shelves crammed with books on almost every conceivable subject. Her mother had the servants tidying and dusting in here earlier, but they’d now moved on to other rooms. Surprising that they’d left such a mess. There were books stacked on tables and a pile of papers scattered untidily over the big, leather-topped desk. Some papers had fallen to the floor.

She roamed along the row of ancient poets, but found none translated into English, and she hadn’t been taught Greek or Latin. There were many historical books featuring battles and others on the Law. Discovering one on human diseases, she sank down onto a leather chair to scan it. It was filled with alarming drawings and she hastily snapped it shut. Considering her next move, she stared up at the chandelier hanging from the domed ceiling, then down at the massive, gold-and-blue Persian rug which covered the parquetry floor. A handsome room. The oak woodwork intricately carved.

Harriett jumped up. It was hard to believe that somewhere behind one of these walls a tunnel lead to the temple of Venus. She gasped. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? The temple was the perfect place. Was it not designed for love? But how could she manage to entice Gerard there at night?

She went to the desk, found notepaper amongst the mess, seized a quill and dipped it into the crystal ink well. She began to write him a note, an awful lie, which made her flinch. But facing the years ahead with him as her brother-in-law would be far more bearable with a delicious secret. She allowed herself to think of how his strong, hard body felt under her hands, his soft lips on hers, gentle, but commanding. She sighed. Her hand shook and she had to calm herself before continuing. She wrote that she’d made a discovery and would meet him at the temple of Venus at eleven o’clock. She signed it Harriett, and blotted it, then folded it twice. That would surely intrigue him enough to want to investigate.

She walked to the stables and found the stable boy polishing the leather saddles. “I want you to ride over to Foxworth, Jed.” She handed him the note. “This is to go into the earl’s hands, and only his. Understand?”

“Yes, Lady Harriett.”

Harriett returned to the library. She didn’t have long to find that tunnel before her mother came looking for her.

She pressed ever bit of the decorative molding on the oak paneling along the south wall, which she considered the most likely, but found nothing. Moving on, she spied an irregularity. The molding appeared slightly different on this section of wall; an extra acorn added to the design. She ran her hands over the acorns pressing each in turn. She’d almost covered the length of wall, and was about to give up when with a soft groan, an entire section, bookshelves and all, opened, causing her to step hurriedly back. Harriett gasped. She poked her head into the dark, cobweb-encrusted corridor. The rank smell of damp, dust and other unpleasant odors wafted out. Steps led down into darkness. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she pressed the acorn again and the panel snapped shut. She had no desire to investigate further. It would be prudent to walk over the grounds to the temple first and become more familiar with it. Then she could leave the house from the library tonight, without being seen.

A domed affair supported by four marble columns, the temple of Venus sat on a rise with steps leading up to it. A statue of Venus, the Roman goddess of love, stood in the center of the floor, boldly naked apart from marble drapery gathered around her hips. It offered a breathtaking view over formal gardens to the fountain on one side, and a long stretch of manicured lawn to the house on the other. It was befitting of her first and perhaps last experience of love, except for the stone floor which was cold and hard, but one couldn’t be too choosy. Surely, in the throes of passion one might ignore such a thing. It would appear premeditated if she were to bring a cushion. She walked down the steps again. Beneath the temple stood a solid wooden door. She found it bolted, but no matter, she could open it from the library end. Gerard had suggested the tunnel was meant to represent a part of Venus’ body. Her heartbeat racing, she walked back to the house, unsure her plan would work. Gerard was not a man she might easily bend to her will.

If only she had Leonora’s looks. The thought surprised her. Although she admired her sister’s beauty she’d never wished for it herself. She wasn’t a beauty, she was unfashionable tall, and her mouth was too big. Some men didn’t like how she looked down on them when they danced. But she’d always been confident of her strengths and abilities, aware of her good points: her sense of humor that her father appreciated, and her inquiring mind, as well as her more troublesome flaws, her impatience with arrogance, intolerance and stupidity, which she’d regrettably discovered amongst some of her suitors. Curse her sharp tongue; she could be too honest, too blunt. She did try to master those faults, however.

Harriett suffered the first prickles of unease. Although Gerard had someone in mind to marry, either Leonora or some lady he hadn’t mentioned, the worry that he might reject her, caused knots to form in her stomach. Shakespeare had been right when he said ‘The course of true love never did run smooth.’ True love? She was fooling herself. For the first time, she felt a little sorry for Mr. Ducksworth.

♥♥♥

Dammit, the temptress was at it again. Gerard had torn the note into strips and sent the stable boy back to Pendleton tout de suite. As the rhythmical motions of the plough allowed him to think on it, he realized it would be dangerous to ignore her request. He wished he hadn’t been so quick to destroy the note. What were her exact words? Something about having news and wishing to meet him at the temple of Venus at eleven o’clock. Would she go alone, expecting to find him there? Yes, she would. Cursing, he wiped the sweat from his brow, and still with half a field to plough, the horses had stopped to tug at a crop of grass. His work was suffering.