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 Pendletontout 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.
