Harriet took a deep breath in through her nose. “I am sorry I shouted, but none of you seems to realize that this is a serious situation. If we are found out, the bank will waste no time in demanding their money, and we don’t have it. And what will we do if the stranger remembers who he is?”

To dry the ink, Mother dusted sand over the letter she’d been writing. “We’ll deal with that when it happens, if it happens. Remember Mrs. Billingsworth. She never remembered who she was. It’s a pity she died.”

“Oh wouldn’t that be wonderful!” Sophia exclaimed in a dreamy voice.

“What would be wonderful?” Derrick asked, looking up from his book, a frown marring his brow. “For the poor man to die?”

“No, that he might never remember who he is. Then he would just be Captain Frakenham forever and marry Harri!”

Five pairs of eyes turned on Harriet.

She colored. “When hell freezes over.”

“Harriet!” Mother frowned as she folded the note and slid it into an envelope.

“I am sorry. It’s just that all of you are standing on the edge of a cliff, cheerily planning to jump. You don’t seem to realize how easily this could blow up in our faces.”

“How?” Stephen demanded. “What is the worst thing that could happen?”

“What if the stranger remembered who he really is? Then where would we be?”

Ophelia pushed her glasses back in place. “We’ll just have to see to it that he’s never alone without one of us present to head him off.”

“Good idea,” Stephen said. “And if he does remember who he is, he’ll just leave.”

“That’s what I would do,” Derrick said, settling back into his book. “I might say a few choice words beforehand, but nothing more.”

“Exactly,” Stephen said. “In the meantime, the captain’s presence will make the bank hold off on demanding the payment and we can get the shearing done.”

Mother wrote something across the envelope. “Here, Sophie. Pray give that to Lady Cabot-Wells with my fondest regards, and be sure you’re home by five.”

Sophia glanced over her shoulder at Derrick. “Are you coming with me?”

Derrick glanced up from his book, but remained lazing in his chair. “Where to?”

“To see Lady Cabot-Wells.”

He made a face. “The last time I saw her, she called me ‘Donald’ and asked how my cat was doing.”

“She’s an old woman, Derrick,” Stephen said, frowning down at his brother. “She’s never gotten my name right in over ten years.”

“Well, I don’t like her and so I’m not going to see her.”

Stephen’s frown deepened. “It will not hurt you to get off your a—”

“Stephen!” Mother said.

“Sorry. It’s just that I cannot abide a slugabed, and Derrick has become the worst.”

“I have not!” Derrick struggled to sit up, his face red. “I worked all morning and most of the afternoon in the barn, and all you can say is—”

“I think,” Harriet said firmly, “that Sophia should not be gallivanting about the countryside unattended. So one of you has to go.”