“Harry.” He felt Lady Georgina’s fingers on his bare shoulder. “What—?”

“Granville House is burning.” Bennet. Panic, pure and instinctual, flooded his veins.

Lady Georgina gasped. “Oh, my dear Lord.”

Harry whirled and caught his shirt, flinging it on. “I need to go. See if I can help in any way.” Was Bennet asleep in his father’s house tonight?

“Of course.” She bent to pick up his breeches. “I’ll come with you.”

“No.” He snatched the breeches from her hand and tried to control his voice. “No. You must stay here.”

Lady Georgina frowned in that stubborn way of hers.

He didn’t have time for this. Bennet needed him now.

“But I—” she began.

“Listen to me.” Harry finished tucking in his shirt and grabbed his lady’s upper arms. “I want you to do as I tell you. Granville is dangerous. He doesn’t like you. I saw the look he gave you when you took me from his tender care.”

“But surely you’ll need me.”

She wasn’t listening to his words. She thought herself invincible, his beautiful lady, and she was simply going to do as she pleased. Regardless of what he thought. Regardless of Granville. Regardless of the danger to herself and the babe.

Harry felt fear build to an unbearable level inside him.

“I don’t need you there.” He shook her. “You’ll only get in the way. You might get yourself killed. Do you understand?”

“I understand you are worried, Harry, but—”

Would she never give up? “Goddamn it!” He frantically looked around for his boots. “I can’t fight the fire and you at the same time. Stay here!”

There they were, half under the bedskirts. He pulled his boots out and stamped them on, then snatched up his coat and waistcoat. He ran to the door. No use going out the window again—all of England would know soon enough that he’d been in his lady’s bed.

He twisted at the door to repeat, “Stay here!”

On his last glimpse of her, Lady Georgina seemed to be pouting.

He thundered down the stairs, pulling on his coat. He would have to do a lot of apologizing when he returned, but he didn’t have time to think of that now. His brother needed him. He dashed to the front door, waking a sleeping footman as he passed, and then he was out in the night. Gravel crunched beneath his boots. He ran around the corner of Woldsly. He’d tied the mare not far from his lady’s window.

Come on. Come on.