Her chin lifted another notch. “Look, Mr.—”

“Captain.”

She closed her eyes for a long moment, her jaw clamped tightly. “Captain,” she managed to grit out. “You and I were engaged, but not…not anything else.”

He sighed as if disappointed. “I see.”

“I believe we’ve said enough on this topic. Mr.—Captain, if you will excuse me, I have things I must see to. Please make yourself comfortable. Mother should return shortly.”

Chase didn’t want to move, but he could tell Harriet meant business. There was a definite glint to her eyes that told him she’d reached the end of her rope.

He moved out of her way and with that, Miss Harriet Ward gave him an infinitesimal nod, then swept from the room.

Chase had to stifle a grin. She really was a bundle of fire and sparks, this seemingly meager woman. He wondered how her barely contained passion would translate in his bed. The thought hung in his head, tantalizing him with images of what could be, what might be.

At that moment, something clicked into place. It was as if the stars had aligned themselves for this one moment. Chase had been on his way out of the country, leaving behind all he held dear. Yet here he stood, cast in the guise of a carefree sea captain, arguing with a blessedly logical female about his own identity.

Perhaps he wasn’t meant to leave England yet. So long as no one in this little community knew he was a St. John, his brothers would never be the wiser. The thought of his brothers made his throat tighten…he had to leave. Had to spare them from the scandal his actions had caused.

All of his earlier amusement fled. He would stay long enough to help the Wards convince the bank that there really was a Captain Frakenham, and then he’d be on his way.

After all, what difference could a few days make?

Chapter 11

I thought I was in love once. Turned out it was just some bad mutton. Unfortunately, by the time I’d ascertained the true cause of my distress, I was already wedded, bedded, and headed for the worst ten years of my life.

The valet, Ledbetter, to his employer, the Earl of Greyley while helping that stalwart individual into his new coat

Harriet retired to her room. Located on the second floor, it was pleasantly, if somewhat sparsely, furnished, the bed old but serviceable, the dresser and washstand faded from so much waxing, the wardrobe mismatched. But the rug was thick and warm, and the curtains on the windows were new, presents from Ophelia and Sophia from a Christmas not long past.

Normally, Harriet took comfort in her room. But this time her heart was beating too thunderously for her to do more than stomp across the floor, drop onto her bed, and fall back against the coverlet.

Captain Frakenham—or whatever his name really was—was the most exasperating, overbearing, and arrogant man she’d ever met. He was also, she had to admit, a remarkably good actor. He’d taken to the part of Captain Frakenham with astonishing ease. Almost with joy.