Gideon had finally caught up with them.
There was another shout from the coachman's box and a string of angry curses as the traveling coach slowed still further.
"Damnation." Applegate frowned. "Some fool is forcing us to the side of the road."
Lady Youngstreet's eyes widened blearily. "Perhaps we are being stopped by a highwayman."
Fry scowled at her. "Never knew of a highwayman who used a phaeton."
"It is St. Justin," Harriet announced calmly. "I told you he would be along as soon as he realized what was happening."
"St. Justin?" Fry looked stunned. 'The devil you say. He's found us?"
"Nonsense. Told no one what was up tonight. He could not possibly have found us." Lady Youngstreet took a deep swallow from the brandy bottle and winked slyly.
"Well, he has," Harriet said. "Just as I knew he would."
Applegate looked rather pale, but he squared his shoulders resolutely. "Do not be afraid, Harriet. I will protect you from him."
Harriet was alarmed by that bold statement. The last thing she needed now was a display of heroics from Applegate. She knew Gideon would not react well to that.
The traveling coach had come to a complete halt. Harriet could hear the coachman speaking in surly tones to Gideon, demanding to know what this was all about.
"I will not detain you long," Gideon said. "I believe you have something on board that belongs to me."
Harriet heard the ring of his boots on the pavement, a sure sign he was not in a good mood. She gave her companions a warning look.
"Please listen very closely," Harriet told the others. "You must allow me to deal with St. Justin, do you understand?"
Applegate gave her an appalled look. "I will certainly not let you face the Beast alone. What sort of man do you think I am?"
The coach door was thrown open. "A good question, Applegate," Gideon said in a dark, menacing voice. He stood there looking thoroughly dangerous. His black greatcoat flowed around him like a sorcerer's cloak. The interior lamps of the coach illuminated his scarred face.
"There you are, St. Justin," Harriet said gently. "I was wondering when you would catch up with us. I vow, I have had a most pleasant drive. Lovely evening, is it not?"
Gideon's gaze raked the occupants of the coach one by one and came to rest on Harriet. "And have you had enough of taking the evening air, my dear?" he asked.
"Quite enough, thank you." Harriet picked up her reticule and made to step out of the coach.
"Do not move, Miss Pomeroy," Applegate commanded bravely. "I will not let this blackguard touch you. I shall defend you with every drop of my blood."
"And it will be my pleasure to assist Lord Applegate in protecting you, m'dear," Fry announced loudly. "We shall both defend you with every drop of Applegate's blood."
"A pair of drunken fools," Gideon muttered. His big hands closed around Harriet's waist. He lifted her easily out of the coach.
"Stop that. Stop that, right now. I will not allow it." Lady Youngstreet threw her reticule at Gideon's chest. It bounced back onto the floor of the coach. "Put her back, you monster. You shall not take her."
"I say. We are saving her from you," Fry explained.
Harriet groaned. "Oh, dear. I knew this was going to be awkward."
"It is going to be a bit more than awkward, Harriet." Gideon started to close the coach door.
"Now, see here," Applegate sputtered, shoving the door open again. He glowered boldly at Gideon. "You cannot just take her off like that."
"Who is going to stop me?" Gideon asked softly. "You, perhaps?"
Applegate looked exceedingly stalwart. "I most certainly will. I am devoted to Miss Pomeroy's welfare. I have taken it upon myself to protect her and I shall do so."
"Hear, hear. Go to it, boy," Lord Fry roared drunkenly. "Don't let the Beast get his paws on her. Protect her with your life's blood, Applegate. I'll be right behind you all the way."
"So will I," Lady Youngstreet declared in ringing, if slightly slurred tones.
"Bloody hell," Gideon muttered.
Applegate ignored the drunken duo. He leaned forward and spoke through the open doorway. "I am serious, St. Justin. I will not allow you to take Miss Pomeroy off like this. I demand that you cease and desist at once."
Gideon smiled his slow, cold smile, the one that showed his teeth and twisted his scar. "Rest assured, Applegate, you will have every opportunity to protest when I demand satisfaction for this affair."
Applegate blinked several times as realization dawned on him. Then he flushed darkly. But he did not back down. "As you wish, sir. I am prepared to accept your challenge. Miss Pomeroy's honor is worth more to me than my life."
"It had better be," Gideon said, "because that is exactly what we are talking about. Your life. I assume you will choose pistols? Or are you the old-fashioned type? It has been a while since I used a rapier, but I distinctly recall winning my last bout."
Applegate's eyes darted to the scar on Gideon's face. He swallowed heavily. "Pistols will suit me very well."
"Excellent," Gideon murmured. "I shall see if I can procure a couple of seconds. There are always a few gentlemen hanging about the tables at the clubs who delight in this sort of thing."
"Good God." Fry was suddenly struck very nearly sober. "Are we talking about a duel here? I say, that's carrying matters a bit too far."
"What's this? A challenge?" Lady Youngstreet peered at Gideon. "Now, see here. There was no harm done. We were just trying to save the gel."
Applegate's expression was stoic. "I am not afraid of you, St. Justin."
"I am delighted to hear it," Gideon said. "Perhaps you will change your mind when we meet at dawn in a few days' time."
Harriet realized this nonsense was turning dangerous. She stepped forward quickly and put a restraining hand on Gideon's arm. "That is quite enough, St. Justin," she said crisply. "You are not to terrify my friends, do you understand?"
Gideon slanted a glance down at her. "Your friends?"
"Of course they are my friends. I would not be with them if they were not. They meant well. Now stop this silly talk of a challenge. There will be no duel over a matter that amounts to no more than a mere misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding, " Gideon rasped. "I would call a kidnapping something more than a misunderstanding."
"There was no kidnapping," Harriet told him. "And I will not countenance a duel, is that quite clear?"
Applegate lifted his chin. "It is all right, Miss Pomeroy. I do not mind dying on your behalf."
"Well, I mind," Harriet said. She smiled at him through the coach window. "You are very kind, Lord Applegate. And very brave. But I simply cannot allow anyone to engage in a duel over what amounted to nothing more than a ride in the country."
Lady Youngstreet perked up. "Exactly. Ride in the country. That's all it was."
Fry looked doubtful. "Trifle more than a jaunt, my dear. We were going to get the gel married, if you will recall."
Harriet paid no attention to Lord Fry. She looked up into Gideon's scowling face. "Let us be on our way, St. Justin. It is getting late. We must allow my friends to start back to town."
"Yes, indeed," Lady Youngstreet said quickly. "Must be off." She seized Fry's walking stick and rapped the roof of the coach. "Turn around," she called loudly. "And be quick about it."
The coachman, who had been listening to the proceedings with an air of boredom, took a last nip at his own bottle and picked up the reins. He guided the horses into a wide turn and the heavy coach moved ponderously off down the road toward London.
Applegate sat gazing wistfully through the window at Harriet until the vehicle rounded a curve and disappeared from sight.
"Well, then," Harriet said cheerfully as she straightened her bonnet. "That's over and done. We should no doubt be off ourselves, my lord. I vow it is going to be a long drive back to Town."