"I see."

"If you are concerned about the proprieties, my lord, I fear I cannot help you," Harriet continued in a chatty tone. "My aunt and sister have walked into the village to shop. My housekeeper is around here somewhere, but I doubt she would be of much help in the event you did threaten to ravish me. She tends to succumb to the vapors at the least hint of a crisis."

"You are correct in that," Gideon said. "She was certainly not of much assistance to the last young lady who lived in this house."

Harriet looked briefly interested in that topic. "Oh, you have met Mrs. Stone?"

"We were acquainted some years back when I lived in the neighborhood."

"Of course. She was the housekeeper for the previous rector, was she not? We inherited her along with the rectory. Aunt Effie says she is extremely depressing to have around and I quite agree, but Papa always said we must be charitable. He said we could not turn her out because she was unlikely to find work elsewhere in the district."

"A very praiseworthy attitude. Nevertheless, it does leave you saddled with a rather grim housekeeper, unless Mrs. Stone has changed considerably over the years."

"Apparently not. She is very much the Voice of Doom. But Papa was a kind man, even if he lacked a sense of practicality. I do try to continue on as he would have wished, although at times it is exceedingly difficult." Harriet leaned forward and folded her hands. "But that is neither here nor there at the moment. Now, then, if I may return to the subject at hand."

"By all means." Gideon realized he was actually beginning to enjoy himself.

"When I said I could not be too careful, I was referring to the necessity of protecting something infinitely more important than my reputation, sir."