The next morning Harriett came downstairs to an uproar. Servants hung around the great hall, their jaws slack with shock as the constable bundled O’Hara out of the house.

Harriett joined her parents in the breakfast parlor. Her mother’s disjointed explanation faded away when Gerard appeared.

“Fancy it being O’Hara.” With remarkable calm, her father tucked into a kipper.

Her mother gasped. “And under our roof, all this time. We might have been murdered in our beds. You never can be sure of staff, and an Irishman to boot. I’m surprised Harrison took him on without suitable references. Do you know,” she said, her cup halfway to her mouth, “I’m still not sure why he killed Harrison, are you, Gerard?”

“He’s refused to say. But I believe robbery was the motive,” Gerard said, his eyes on Harriett. “Perhaps Harrison caught him pilfering, and O’Hara grew angry after he was fired. We’ll never know for sure.”

“And how did you discover it was O’Hara?” Her father asked.

“I’ve been carrying out surveillance for the constable. Wandering the grounds at night.”

“How very noble of you, Gerard,” her mother said. “I would have been overjoyed to know you were out there while we slept.”

Harriett met Gerard’s amused gaze. She pressed her lips together to stop herself from breaking into laughter.

After breakfast, she walked with him through the gardens.

“I have to go to London tomorrow.”

“Oh, well, perhaps we won’t see each other again,” she said as a pain clenched her heart.

“You will, Harry.”

They strolled, barely speaking, until they found themselves not far from the spot where Kyle and his lover had met. They hurried on, as if putting distance between them and that tainted memory. “What was O’Hara searching for? Was it the message you were to pass on?” she asked, as he helped her over the stile.

“No, not that.”

Ahead, the river wound away into the distance, through a band of poplars.

Gerard pulled off his coat and lay it down on the grass. “Shall we sit?”

She joined him amongst the daisies and cowslips. An inquisitive cow lumbered over to the fence to stare at them, as Harriett tucked her feet up under her dress.

He leaned back on his elbows and spread his long legs out over the grass. “Harrison had a list of British spies operating in the area. O’Hara would have been instructed to get hold of it.”

“Why would he stoop so low as to spy for the French?”

Gerard shrugged. “He had no loyalty to King George or the Regency. I found a uniform in his bedchamber. It was green with a yellow collar and cuffs. That was the uniform of the Legion Irlandaise.”

“Who are they? I’ve not heard of them.”

“The legion was put together by Napoleon. It was made up of disgruntled Irishmen who had a hatred for Britain. A motley group, they fought in a number of Napoleon’s campaigns. I imagine some of them became spies for France. Including O’Hara.” He widened his blue eyes. “Harry, how did you know that he would come to the library? There was nothing on the desk of importance.”          Harriett’s cheeks grew hot. “I didn’t. It was purely a guess.”

“Then why did you bring me there?”

“I…I planned to seduce you.”

Gerard’s eyes widened. He gave a slow grin, his eyes on her mouth. “Seduce me?” He leaned over and cupped her chin in his big hand, searching her eyes. “A well brought up lady like you?” His lips briefly touched hers. “Have I corrupted you, Harry?”

Harriett bit her lip. “Your interest lay with Leonora. And I wanted to have a memory of you I could cherish.”

“I’m to marry Leonora, am I?” The look in his eyes made her tremble. He purposefully untied her bonnet strings and threw her straw hat onto the grass without a care to its preservation. “What made you think that?” His eyes looked a deeper blue than the sky as they searched hers.

Harriett swallowed. “You paid her a lot of attention.”

“As you would to one who will quickly become known for her beauty. Leonora expects such attention, Harry.”

“So beautiful, she can have anyone she wants. And if she’s in her right mind she will want you.”

Gerard laughed and slipped his arm around her waist pulling her hard against him, causing what was left of her breath to desert her. His face was so close she could marvel at his thick dark lashes. “Leonora is in no way as beguiling as you, Harry.” His eyes roamed her face and centered on her mouth. “I was waiting until this business had been cleared up before I asked you.” He sighed. “You’ve been on my mind for some years, you know. You were such a little firebrand.” He fingered a curl. “Racing about the place with your red hair all a tumble, and your eyes flashing green as grass. Then, when I saw you all grown up, climbing that tree with your long, bare legs, I knew I wanted you in a very different way.”

He traced her mouth with his finger. “Such a nice bottom lip. And the top one curls so delightfully when you smile, I want to kiss it.” Gerard bent his head and carried out his threat. “You are the one I wanted from the first, Harry, but I had little to offer you except an old title, a farm and a string of debts, that is, until Harrison generously left me his money.”

She breathed in his sweet breath, as he nipped her bottom lip, sending a wave of heat rushing through her. “Marry me, please, Harry. I loved having you at my side, as we worked to solve the mystery. But you’ve been a dreadful torment. I love you to distraction. I can’t kiss you and not make love to you, it’s killing me.”

“Yes. Oh, yes.” Harriett gazed deeply into his eyes. She could hardly fathom that this gorgeous man, the subject of all her dreams, wanted her. Desire warmed her body and made her weak, and she fell back on the grass. “It kills me too, and I’m sure I don’t know half as much as you about…um.”

He leaned over her, his smile a sensual promise that made her senses reel. “You will, Harry. As soon as the bans are read, we shall marry. And I promise I’ll teach you all that I know. And pleasure you to the best of my ability.”

“We can risk a small kiss or two now, then, can’t we?” Harriett raised herself on her elbows and fluttered her lashes in invitation.

Gerard laughed softly. “Lady Harriett, how I do want you,” he murmured. He pushed her back on the grass and kissed her.

His kisses caused a lurch of excitement. She’d dreamed about such kisses yearned for them. His tongue gently probed hers and a stream of warmth traveled down her throat to engulf her breasts, causing her nipples to throb. Her stomach clenched. She curled her arms around his neck, longing for him to touch her. And she wanted to touch him, to discover more of his hard body pressing against her most sensitive parts through her clothes.

His hand on her leg drew her skirts and petticoat up her thighs, exposing her garters, and his breath grew heavier. His lips left hers to nibble at her earlobe. Then he pushed away and sat up, leaving her panting, her body pulsing with need.

“Oh God, Harry.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Let’s call a halt to this. I need to ask your father’s permission to marry you.”

Harriett wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down again. Now she had him she wasn’t about to let him go. “Kiss me.”

“Harry, have a heart!” he whispered, hovering over her resting on his elbows.

Harriett’s breathing quickened. She was sensually aware of everything, his sandalwood soap, the sweet smell of honeysuckle that climbed a fence nearby, the rasp of his chin when she pulled his face down to hers.

With a moan, Gerard’s mouth covered hers hungrily as his hands roamed over her bodice, rubbing her taut nipples through the material. “Your beautiful, Harry,” he murmured.

That he wanted her so much, made her feel powerful. She raked her fingers though his thick hair and swept a hand down his back to the strong curve of his buttocks. Not many men that she’d seen could claim such a physique, and certainly not Mr. Ducksworth. She gathered his shirt in her hands and pulled him against her, reveling in the evidence of his desire.

“Harry!” Gerard groaned. He swept up her gown, his fingers trailing over her skin. At the apex of her thighs, his gentle touch on that most feminine part of her caused a murmur of pleasure in the back of her throat. He continued to stroke the sensitive nub, making her moan. As sensation built to an uncomfortable pitch, she tried to push him away.

“No, sweetheart.” He continued to caress her, with drugging kisses, and she hovered on the edge of something urgent, that she began to yearn for. And then she didn’t want him to stop. She cried out, urged him, as her hips rose to press against his hand. She tumbled into an explosion of warmth and feeling. Her cry rang out as her body turned to warm honey.

“Oh, that was lovely.” She collapsed back on the grass. “I just want to lie here for a while in the warm sun.”

“Well, I’m not about to take you here on the grass, not your first time, my love. You’re a temptress.” His lips curved in an endearing smile. “I suspect you saw more the other night than you admitted.” He jumped to his feet and reached down for her hand. “That’s enough education for you today.” Pulling her to her feet, he kissed her nose. “There’s so much more to lovemaking for us to enjoy once we’ve tied the knot.”

With Gerard’s arm around her waist, they wandered back toward the house, Harriett trailing her ruined bonnet by its ribbons.

As they approached the house, Gerard stopped and framed her face in his hands. He kissed her again, a tender, loving kiss. “Do you want to live here at Pendleton? It is a very fine house.”

Her fingers tidied his curly black locks. “I will do what you wish, but I don’t much like the manor right now.”

“I’ll lease it for now. There are sad memories here, and Foxworth is my home.”

Harriett glanced up into his face, and found what she’d suspected, a look of relief. Her aspirations for their future matched his. The wife of a country squire, and Foxworth filled with the sweet voices of their children.

A very grand royal-blue carriage with a ducal crest on the door panel stood in front of the house. a liveried groom at the head of four matched greys. They found the family in the Red Drawing room, where Leonora, Aunt Georgina, and a gentleman dressed in the first stare of fashion, drank tea with her parents. Her mother’s face looked pink beneath her lace cap.

Leonora was holding court. “I know exactly the gown I want, Mama, I saw it in La Belle Ensemble. It was silver lamé on net, over a silver tissue slip.”

“My dear, I don’t think that quite suitable...,” her mother began.

When Harriett and Gerard walked into the room, Leonora jumped up and danced over to them. She looked breathtaking in a new white muslin gown with Grecian patterning round the hem, her hair twisted in an artful Indian knot.

“Harriett! Frederick has asked Father for my hand.” She held up her hand and a huge diamond ring flashed. “We went to Rundell and Bridge at Ludgate Hill for it. Isn’t it beautiful? We’re to marry in a month’s time.” Her lovely violet-blue eyes shone. “At St Georges, in Hanover Square.” She put a hand on Harriett’s shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Frederick has eight thousand pounds a year.”

Her future husband had risen to his feet and gazed indulgently at Leonora. She went to tuck her arm through his. “I’d like to introduce my fiancé, Frederick, Viscount Northwood, only son of the Duke of Debnam. Frederick, this is my sister Harriett and Gerard, Earl of Foxworth.”

Frederick bowed. He would be in his mid-thirties, she surmised. He smiled warmly, his curly chestnut hair brushed artfully over his forehead. She found she liked his gentle grey eyes and noted that Leonora already had him wrapped around her little finger. That he was destined to stay that way for all of their lives, and be quite happy with it, she felt sure.

After she and Gerard offered their congratulations, Harriett made an announcement of her own. “Gerard wishes to speak to you, Father.”

Mama gasped. “You can’t mean...you and Gerard?” She stared at her husband. “You’re not in the least surprised, Edgerton,” she admonished him.

“I confess I’m not.” Father rose to seize Gerard’s hand and pump it. “No need to ask, my boy. You’re the perfect man for Harriett, thought so from the first.”       

“I plan to get a special license, and we’ll be married in two weeks if that suits.” Gerard raised Harriett’s hand to his lips.

“Such haste, Gerard.” Her mother groped for her fan. “I shall need at least a month to organize Harriett’s trousseau.”

Harriett wanted to argue, but bit her tongue. She was learning to curb her impatience it seemed. But it was dreadfully difficult. She was determined to choose her wardrobe at as little cost to her father as she could manage.

Leonora’s delicate brows rose in astonishment. “Don’t you wish to wait and have a big London wedding, Harriett? I most certainly do!”

“A simple wedding at Gerard’s church will suit us perfectly,” Harriett said, smiling at Gerard.

“We shall need to have a wedding gown made.” Despite her furious fanning, her mother’s cheeks bloomed like a crimson rose. “You have nothing suitable.”

“I shall buy one.”

“What! Store bought?” Mama looked so shocked; Harriett might have uttered that swear word that she’d heard in the stables.

Harriett wasn’t about to delay her wedding for the sake of a gown. She gazed at her handsome husband-to-be. “Store bought will do nicely.”

Surprisingly, her mother didn’t argue. She rose to her feet, her expression absorbed, as if constructing an invisible list. “Still, we must return to London tomorrow. I have a good deal of shopping to do.”

Harriett was aware of her father’s sigh of resignation, but when she gazed at him, he was smiling.

♥♥♥

The next morning, as Gerard was preparing to leave for Town, a horseman rode down the lime walk. As he came closer, Gerard saw it was the Parish constable.

He dismounted looking flustered. “My lord. I have disturbing news. The magistrate wanted you advised. There will be no need for a trial.”

“Why, what has occurred, Cutler?”

“When I was transporting O’Hara to the county jail, a rifle shot rang out. Hit O’Hara in the head, milord, killed him stone dead.”

“Did you see who it was?”

“No milord. They were hidden amongst the trees. I heard them ride away. Two men. I consider myself lucky to be here on God’s earth.”

“Indeed. A strange business.”

Cutler removed his hat and scratched his head. “Can’t imagine what, milord.”

“Perhaps the Irishman was part of a band of robbers,” Gerard suggested.

“Yes, that occurred to me, too. Didn’t want O’Hara spilling the beans,” he said. “Well, it tidies the matter up neatly and saves the cost of hanging him. Would have liked the names of the rest of the gang though.”

“Yes. A Pity.”

He watched the constable ride away. British agents had acted swiftly, and it appeared that his involvement was at an end.

All to the good, he thought, as he mounted his horse. He could return to being a country squire again. And enjoy life with his new wife. He grinned, and nudged the horse’s flank.