Ravished Read online

  “Then, as there are two innocent young ladies present, perhaps we should cease discussing it,” Effie suggested mildly.

  “I will only say this,” Mrs. Treadwell plowed on determinedly, “the man is a menace to all innocent young females. He is called the Beast of Blackthorne Hall precisely because he is responsible for the ruination of another young woman who once lived in this very house. She took her own life because of him. On top of that, there were even rumors of murder when his older brother died. Do I make myself clear, Mrs. Ashecombe?”

  “Perfectly, Mrs. Treadwell. Perfectly. Will you have some more tea?” Effie picked up the pot.

  Mrs. Treadwell glowered at her in frustration. She put down her cup and saucer with a clatter and stood up abruptly. “I have done my duty. You have been warned, Mrs. Ashecombe. You have the responsibility for these two young ladies on your shoulders. I trust you will attend to that responsibility.”

  “I shall endeavor to do my best,” Effie said coldly. “Good day to you, Mrs. Treadwell. I do hope that the next time you come to call you will give us some notice. Otherwise you might not find us at home. I shall summon my housekeeper to show you to the door.”

  The hall door opened and closed a moment later and Harriet breathed a deep sigh of relief. “What a meddling creature. I have never liked that woman.”

  “Nor have I,” Felicity said. “I must say, you handled her very well, Aunt Effie.”

  Effie’s lips pursed and her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “It was a nasty little scene, was it not? I dread to think what is being said in the village this morning. No doubt every shopkeeper is discussing last night’s assembly with every customer who walks in the door. I was afraid of this, Harriet.”

  Harriet poured more tea for herself. “Really, Aunt Effie, there is nothing at all to concern you. It was only one dance and, as I am very much on my way to becoming an old maid, I cannot see that it matters so very much. The excitement will all pass very soon.”

  “Let us hope so.” Effie sighed. “Here I thought I would have to worry about protecting Felicity from St. Justin and it turns out that you are the one at risk, Harriet. How very odd. According to his reputation, he prefers very young girls.”

  Harriet remembered the confrontation with Gideon that morning. She knew she would never forget the rage and pain in his eyes as he had lashed out at her on the subject of lost honor. “I do not think we should believe everything we hear about St. Justin, Aunt Effie.”

  Mrs. Stone appeared in the doorway, her doleful eyes full of righteous warning. “Ye had best believe it, Miss Harriet, if ye know what’s good for ye. Mark my words. The Beast will not hesitate to ruin another young lady if he gets the chance.”

  Harriet got to her feet. “You will not refer to his lordship as a beast again, Mrs. Stone. Do you understand? If you do so, you will find yourself looking for another position.”

  She walked to the door and went down the hall to her study, ignoring the startled silence behind her. Safe in her own personal refuge once again, she closed the door and sat down behind her desk. Absently she picked up a savagely grinning skull and turned it over in her hands.

  Gideon was no beast. He was a man who had been badly scarred by life and his own fate, but he was no beast. Harriet knew she would stake her life and her own reputation on that.

  Late that night Gideon put down a volume of history he had been attempting to read for the last hour and poured himself a glass of brandy. He stretched his legs out toward the fire and contemplated the flames over the rim of the glass.

  The sooner this business of catching thieves was finished the better, he thought. The situation was getting dangerous. He knew that, even if Harriet Pomeroy did not. If he had any sense he would get out of the neighborhood as quickly as possible.

  What the hell had he been thinking of last night when he had swept her into that waltz? He knew damn well people would talk, especially when he did not bother to ask any other woman in the room to dance.

  Another rector’s daughter had danced with the Beast of Blackthorne Hall. Was history about to repeat itself?

  Something about Harriet was definitely making him reckless. Gideon had tried to tell himself she was an annoying little bluestocking whose only passions were reserved for old bones. But he knew that was untrue.

  Harriet had more than enough passion to satisfy any man. Even if he had not experienced it in her kiss that morning in the cave, it had been crystal clear in her eyes last night when he had taken her into his arms to dance the waltz.

  He had walked out of the assembly rooms shortly thereafter because he had known that if he stayed he would have provided the village gossips with even more grist for their mills. It was Harriet who would have to endure the speculation and chatter after he was gone. She might think it would be a minor trial, but she was naive. It could be hell.

  Gideon warmed the brandy glass in his hands. It would be best if he left the vicinity soon, before he was prompted into one of his more outrageous actions again.

  But he knew that a part of him was hoping it would take a good long while to trap the thieves.

  He leaned his bead back against the chair and thought of how it had felt last night to hold Harriet in his arms. She had been warm and sleek and she had responded beautifully to the dance. There had been a delightful eagerness in her. She had taken an unabashed delight in the wickedly sensual waltz. Gideon knew she would make love with the same sweet responsiveness.

  The lady was, after all, nearly twenty-five years old and definitely strong-minded. Perhaps he should stop trying to be noble about the whole thing and let Harriet worry about her own reputation.

  Who was he to refuse the lady the right to play with fire?

  * * *

  Three nights later Harriet found herself unable to sleep. She tossed and turned restlessly for two hours after going to bed. A sense of uneasiness was plaguing her. She felt anxious and alarmed for no apparent reason.

  She finally gave up trying to pretend she was going to get any rest and got out of bed. When she opened the drapes she saw that clouds were partially obscuring the moon. The tide was out and she could see the swatch of silvered sand at the bottom of the cliffs.

  She saw something else as well. The flicker of a lamp.

  The thieves had returned.

  Excitement swept through Harriet. She opened the window and peered out to get a better look. Another flash of distant flame indicated a second thief. That made sense. There were generally two, although sometimes three men had appeared on the beach.

  Harriet watched for a third lamp for another moment or so and then decided that this time the third man had not accompanied the others.

  She wondered if Dobbs, the Bow Street Runner, had gone into action yet. He was probably signaling to Gideon even now. Harriet nearly fell out of the window in her effort to get a better view of what was happening.

  There was no doubt that this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. Harriet’s chief regret was that she was not going to be able to see exactly what occurred when Dobbs made his arrests.

  She recalled Gideon’s stern lecture and his admonition to stay away from the cliff caves. How typical that the men would get to experience all the excitement firsthand while she, the one who had alerted everyone to what was going on in the first place, was obliged to hang out a window in order to view the proceedings.

  Harriet waited eagerly to see if she could spot Gideon when he arrived to join Mr. Dobbs. But the fitful moonlight made it difficult to see much of what was taking place on the beach.

  It occurred to Harriet that she would have a much better view if she went to stand at the top of the cliff path.

  It took only a few minutes to dress in a warm woolen gown, lace up her half boots, and grab her cloak and gloves.

  A short while later, the hood of her cloak pulled up over her head to shield her from the brisk night air, Harriet let herself out of the house and made her way to the top of the cliff pat
h.

  From her new perch she could see a wider stretch of the beach. The band of sand was growing almost imperceptibly narrower as the tide slowly began to turn. In another half hour or so seawater would be starting to wash into the caves.

  The thieves would know the timing of the tide to the precise minute, Harriet thought. They had done this many times before. Gideon and Mr. Dobbs would also be aware of it. They would have to move quickly, as the thieves would not be lingering long tonight. If they did linger, they would be trapped inside the caves by the rising sea-water.

  Harriet caught a glimpse of a shadowy movement down on the beach. Two shadows, she realized. Neither was using a lamp to light his way. Gideon and his butler responding to Dobbs’s signal, no doubt.

  Harriet stepped closer to the edge of the cliffs. She was suddenly consumed with worry. The thieves were no doubt armed and they would be emerging from the caves at any moment.

  For the first time it occurred to her that Gideon might be in actual danger. The thought unnerved her, completely swamping her earlier sense of excitement. She realized she could not bear the notion of him being hurt.

  The shadows that Harriet was certain were Gideon and his butler joined with another shadow that must have been Mr. Dobbs and took up positions behind some boulders.

  At that moment a gleam of light appeared at the entrance to the cave. Two men emerged and were hailed by Dobbs. Harriet could just barely hear the little man’s authoritative shout above the sounds of the sea and the wind.

  “Stop, thieves.”

  There were startled cries from down below. Harriet tried to get a better view of what was going on, but a man’s long arm coiled suddenly around her throat from behind, pinning her. She froze with shock.

  “And just what the devil do you think you’re doin’, Miss Pomeroy?” Crane hissed softly.

  “Mr. Crane. Gracious, you startled me.” Harriet thought quickly. “I could not sleep and was merely taking a late-night walk along the cliffs. What are you doing here?” Harriet silently congratulated herself on her commendable aplomb.

  “Keepin’ watch, Miss Pomeroy. And a good thing I did, isn’t it? Else I might have been caught like those poor, stupid coves down on the beach.” He let her feel the point of a knife against her neck.

  Harriet shivered, aware of the unpleasant smell of the tall, gangly man as much as she was of the strength in his snakelike arm. “I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Crane. Is something happening on the beach tonight? I thought we were long since finished with smugglers in this region.”

  “Never mind the fancy lies, Miss Pomeroy.” He tightened his arm, almost cutting off her air. “I can see for myself what’s goin’ on down there. My associates have been caught in a trap.”

  “I have no notion of what you are talking about, Mr. Crane.”

  “Is that a fact? Well, you’ll find out real quick when we go down there ourselves in a few minutes.”

  Harriet swallowed. “Why are we going down there?”

  “I’m going to wait until that bunch down below has moved off and then I’m going down to grab what I can. The authorities will be along at first light to collect the goods in the cave and haul it away. Got to get what I can now. As for you, you’re coming along as a hostage. Just in case someone tries to stop us.”

  “But the tide is coming in even as we speak, Mr. Crane,” Harriet said desperately. “You will not have much time.”

  “Well, then, I’ll just have to hurry, won’t I? And so will you. Move quickly, now, Miss Pomeroy. I’m warnin’ you, if you call out, I’ll put this knife through your throat.”

  Crane shoved her toward the cliff path. Harriet glanced down and saw that Gideon and the others had completed the task of apprehending the thieves. They were taking the villains off down the beach to one of the other cliff paths. If any of them chanced to glance back, they would probably not be able to see Crane and her descending to the beach in the shadows.

  In another few minutes Gideon and the others would be out of earshot.

  Chapter Six

  THE TIDE WAS COMING IN swiftly. Harriet saw the waves lapping hungrily at the sand as she scrambled awkwardly down the cliff path. Her progress was unsteady because Crane had his hand wrapped around her upper arm and his knife at the back of her neck.

  When they reached the bottom of the path, Harriet looked down the length of the beach, praying that Gideon or Dobbs would turn around and see what was happening behind them. She could barely make out their retreating figures in the fitful moonlight.

  “Remember, not a word out of you.” Crane wrapped his arm around her throat again when they reached the beach. “I got more’n a knife. I got a pistol in my pocket. If you get away from the knife, I’ll put a bullet into you. I swear it.”

  “If you fire your pistol the others will be bound to hear it,” Harriet warned him. She was shivering with fear.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. The waves are getting loud. Don’t push me, Miss Pomeroy. Just keep moving. Hurry.”

  Harriet suddenly realized that she was not the only one shaking with fear. Crane was agitated, too. She could feel the tremors in his arm where it touched her throat. And she could smell the growing fear in him. He reeked of it.

  It was more than the time factor that was making Crane anxious, she realized. She sensed that he was struggling with a terror of the caves themselves.

  It was not an uncommon fear. As she had explained to Gideon, many people would not go into the caves.

  Harriet glanced down and saw that the sea foam was already lapping at her boots. It gave her an idea.

  “There is no time, Mr. Crane. You will be trapped in the caves. If you do not drown, you will end up spending the night in the very darkest cavern. I doubt that your lamp will stay lit very long. Just imagine the oppressive, crushing darkness, Mr. Crane. It will be like the Pit itself.”

  “Shut your damn mouth,” Crane hissed.

  “All the authorities will have to do is wait until morning when the tide retreats. You will rush straight out into their arms. Unless, of course, you have gotten lost in the caves. That is always a possibility. People have disappeared forever in these caves, Mr. Crane. Just think of the feeling of being trapped in the darkness.”

  “I can be in and out of that cavern in ten minutes. I have a map. Move, woman.”

  Harriet heard the escalating tension in his voice. Crane was very frightened. He knew as well as she did that there was very little time left.

  It would be his growing agitation that would provide her with an opportunity. Harriet tried to think quickly. It would be pitch-dark inside the outer cavern. Crane would need to stop and light a lamp. He would be nervous and his fingers would be unsteady. He would not be able to hold the knife to her throat while he lit the lamp.

  If she moved swiftly, she could be into the corridor at the rear of the cave before he could drag the pistol out of his pocket and fire.

  She glanced once more down the night-shrouded beach and knew a deep despair. Gideon and the others were very far away now and getting farther away by the second.

  If she screamed quite loudly Gideon might still be able to hear her above the sound of the rising surf, but Harriet was not certain he would realize what was happening.

  She was going to have to manage her escape on her own.

  Harriet made her move just as Crane shoved her through the cave entrance.

  “Doesn’t look like I’ll be needin’ you as a hostage, after all, Miss Pomeroy. They’re long gone. I might as well be rid of you now. Christ’s blood, but it’s dark in here. How did they stand it?”

  Harriet deliberately stumbled and fell to her knees as Crane fumbled with the lamp. The movement jerked her free of his temporarily loosened arm.

  “Gideon.” Her scream filled the cavern, but she had no way of knowing if it could be heard out on the beach. She kicked out at the lamp and missed.

  “Shut your mouth, you little bitch. Damnation.’”

  Crane
was between Harriet and the entrance. She would never be able to get past him. She turned and fled blindly into the black depths of the cavern, hands outstretched, fingers searching for the stone wall. Behind her she could hear Crane cursing as he struggled to light his lamp.

  “Come back here,” Crane yelled.

  At that instant his lamp finally flared to life, bathing the cavern in a golden glow. Harriet saw that she was less than a yard from the tunnel entrance. She dashed straight toward it.

  A shot roared through the cavern, echoing horribly. But Harriet did not look back. She was already into the tunnel, careening into fresh darkness.

  “Damn you,” Crane called furiously. “Goddamn you.”

  Harriet crouched in the tunnel out of range of the lamp. She could hear him pounding after her. She had hoped he would panic and give up his plan to grab what he could from the treasure room. Unfortunately, it appeared his lust for his ill-gotten gains was stronger than his fear of the caves or of being caught.

  Harriet edged farther back along the ink-black corridor, feeling her way with her gloved hands. A ray of light from Crane’s lamp warned her he was still in pursuit. His footsteps sounded on the stone floor. She could hear his labored breathing.

  She drew back into the tunnel. Something scuttled across the toe of her half boot. A crab, no doubt.

  The deadly game of hide-and-seek went on for what seemed like an endless time, forcing Harriet to retreat farther and farther into the corridor. The roar of the sea was louder now. She knew the fierce waves were starting to surge into the outer cavern, slowly but surely cutting off escape. In a matter of minutes the way out of the caves would be too treacherous to attempt. It might already be too late.

  “Bloody damn hell,” Crane screamed. “Where are you, you stupid woman?”

  Then Crane shrieked, a ghastly sound of pure animal terror that reverberated through the passageways.