The door opened and Mother bustled in, a rustling of silks and lace, her cap plopped unceremoniously on her head. The second her gaze fell on Harriet, she said in a breathless voice, “There you are, dear! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Harriet frowned. “You knew where I—”

“Yes, yes, of course!” Mother paused just inside the door. “And there is that sweet Mr. Gower with you.”

Sweet? How about rude and overbearing? “Mr. Gower was just telling me that he had to leave.”

“Before meeting Captain Frakenham?” Mother said, all smiles. “Surely not.”

Harriet opened her mouth. Then closed it. Captain Frakenham? Goodness, had Mother gone stark, raving mad?

Harriet stole a peek at Mr. Gower and noted with some satisfaction that he looked as thunderstruck as she felt.

“Captain Frakenham,” the banker said slowly. “Mrs. Ward, there is no Captain Frakenham.”

“No?” Mother asked, blinking in apparent astonishment.

In that instant, Harriet knew where Sophia had gotten her passion for acting.

“Mr. Gower,” Mother said with some asperity, “you are sadly mistaken! There is indeed a Captain Frakenham. In fact, here he is now.” With that, Mother stepped aside.

A broad-shouldered figure filled the doorway to the sitting room. Harriet’s heart pounded an extra beat. There stood their patient. He appeared pale, the bandage still wrapped about his head. Harriet’s gaze moved slowly over him, noting the way his coat hugged his wide shoulders then tapered to a narrow waist. His waistcoat was an understatement of elegant simplicity, his snowy white cravat tied in a fascinating array of twists and knots. She had to admire his taste; it was impeccable.

Harriet tried not to look directly at him as he walked forward, every step holding a liquid grace that was somehow salaciously delicious.

If he’d been dangerously attractive lying prone in bed, he was lethal striding across the room, moving with all the grace of a very large, very masculine cat. Harriet found that she could not look away. Could not help but notice the way his powerful thighs moved beneath the material of his breeches. Could not help but feel a little breathless when his deep blue eyes rested on her, and her alone.

“My dear,” he murmured, on reaching her side. He took her unresisting hands in his and brought them, one at a time, to his warm lips. “How is my lovely fiancée this morning? I trust you slept well?”

Heat shivered up her fingers, through her arms, and directly into the pit of her stomach. Her whole body tightened in response.

She blinked up at him. “Captain Frakenham? But—”

“Harriet!” her mother said firmly. “Pray ring the bell for some tea. I’m certain Captain Frakenham is in need of nourishment.”

“So I am,” the captain easily agreed, smiling down at Harriet. Though his expression was schooled into a mild greeting, Harriet was all too aware of a devilish gleam in his eyes. He was laughing at her. He knew she had to respond to his overture in front of Mr. Gower. And the wretch was enjoying every minute.