Harriet’s gaze was locked on his chest. Chase looked down and remembered something else. When he’d crawled into bed, he’d decided he was too tired to wrest on a sleep shirt, so he’d gone to bed naked.

He supposed he should find better cover than that afforded by the thin sheet that pooled in his lap. But no. He wasn’t the one who had stormed into someone’s bedchamber in the middle of the night, determined to wreak havoc and mayhem. So instead of pulling the cover up, he leaned back against the headboard. “Very well, Harriet. What’s this all about?” As he spoke, he shifted slightly and the sheet fell an inch more.

Her gaze widened as she stared at his bare chest, her gaze dropping lower…lower.

Chase grinned. “You burst into a man’s private chambers and there’s no telling what you might see.”

Her gaze jerked up to meet his, her cheeks flushing a bright red. “This is an emergency or I would have never entered your room.”

“An emergency? What’s wrong now?”

“Stephen.”

She said the word as if it should mean something. “What about Stephen?”

“What did you say to him in the library before dinner?”

“Say? I didn’t—” Oh, yes. He had said something. Something quite brilliant. “We talked about women and—” What else? Chase couldn’t seem to remember the particulars. “Why?”

“Don’t try and act the innocent with me,” Harriet snapped. “You know very well what you’ve done. After listening to you and your asinine advice, Stephen stormed over to Strickton House and attempted to abduct Miss Strickton.”

Chase blinked. “He did what?”

“Don’t act surprised. You gave him the idea.”

“I did no such thing! What was the boy think—” Chase closed his eyes. That fellow on the white horse. Of course. “What a fool.”

“Yes, you are. You have ruined any chances that Stephen might have had with Miss Strickton.”

That seemed unnecessarily harsh. After all, most women dreamed of being swept up on a white horse and trotted off to some castle.

Chase glanced around the rather plain room. Not that Garrett Park was a castle, but it had to be a better pile than anything Miss Strickton was used to. “It does sound as if Stephen acted a bit rashly, but he didn’t do anything all that serious. All he did was attempt to swoop her into his arms and ride with her into the sunset. What’s the harm in that?”

“Miss Strickton did not enjoy being snatched up, dragged across a smelly horse, and then carried off like a sack of potatoes. Her gown was ripped, she lost her pearl necklet, and they had to cut brambles from her hair where she fell off the horse into a very muddy field.”

That didn’t sound good at all. Chase shook his head. “I hate to say this, but your brother has no finesse.”

Harriet’s face reddened. “Finesse? What does finesse have to do with anything?”

Chase leaned back against the headboard, adjusting his pillows to a more comfortable level. “It sounds to me as if the problem was more in the execution. As a rule, women enjoy being made a fuss of.”