“My brother is fine. And he is as much a St. John as I.”
Pound wisely did not say a thing and they had soon resumed their game.
But Devon found that he could not pay attention, a strange sense of unrest flickering through him. Where was Chase? And what did his recent disappearance have to do with Harry Annesley?
Devon stifled a sigh. Over the last year, Chase had become something of an enigma, disappearing for days on end, usually in the company of an actress or some other equally unworthy female.
Except, of course, when he’d taken up with the Viscountess Westforth. That relationship had proven itself to be something different—a foray into true friendship—although no one had realized it until they’d sent Devon’s older brother, Brandon, to buy off the lady.
Something had happened in that meeting and a short time later, Brandon himself had married the woman. Devon thought about his sister-in-law, and smiled. Verena was as strong-willed and intelligent as they came, and she was every bit as in love with Brandon as he was with her. All told, the marriage promised to be as interesting as it would be lasting.
It was a pity Chase had not found such a bride. Of course, since Brandon had tricked Chase into accepting the infamous St. John talisman ring, chances were high that Chase might find his own true love. Or he would if he didn’t leave Harry Annesley kicking his heels all over town, hinting to whoever would listen that Chase St. John had not honored a debt.
Such a thing had been known to ruin a man. To his surprise, Devon won yet another hand. He tossed his cards onto the table and called for his coat and horse.
Damn it all, where the hell is Chase? And why did he leave town after signing a note to Annesley?
Chapter 9
Starch makes the man.
The rather decrepit Lord Kilturn to his valet, Hobart, while standing before the mirror adjusting his cravat the evening of the Brookstone soirée
Harriet could only stare at Mr. Gower. Surely the man didn’t mean to suggest that—he couldn’t possibly mean to say that he and she could—that they would one day—“You must be jesting!”
Mr. Gower’s smile never wavered, but his eyes narrowed unpleasantly. “I meant every word. I have carefully considered all the available choices, and I have decided that you would be the most beneficial bride for a man in my position. Your connections could be just the thing to help my career.”
Harriet couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I don’t wish to—”
“Please. Don’t answer yet. I can see that I have startled you. But once you think about it, I believe you’ll agree that a marriage between us would be beneficial.”
“Mr. Gower, I do not wish to marry!”
Mr. Gower raised his brows. “No? What about the supposed Captain Frakenham?”
Oh piffle! Harriet’d let her astonishment freeze her brain into a block of useless ice. “I meant to say that I don’t wish to marry you,” she qualified. “Captain Frakenham is another matter altogether. Of course I wish to marry him; I’m engaged to him.”
“Indeed.”
It was one word, but the disbelief Gower managed to impart with that one word made Harriet pause. Oh dear no. If Mr. Gower suspected that there was no Captain Frakenham, everything was lost. For all that Harriet deplored Mother’s invention of a suitor, the thought of losing Garrett Park just before the last payment was too galling for words.
Harriet smoothed her skirts nervously. “Speaking of Captain Frakenham, did I mention that he sent some silk to Mother?”
Mr. Gower lifted his brows. “Did he? How nice for your mother.”
“A very nice length of it. He sent me some pearls and two strands of shells for Sophia and Ophelia, as well.”
“Hmmm. I would love to see these items. Could you fetch them?”
Blast it, what was she to do now? She hadn’t expected him to be so rude, but something seemed to have come over Mr. Gower.
Harriet managed a shaky laugh. “Of course you may see them! I’m not sure where Mother put the silk, and the pearls are safely locked away. Perhaps when you come to visit another time, I will have them all out for your perusal and—”
The banker shook his head, smiling. “Harriet, you should know that I have wondered about this Captain Frakenham from the beginning.”
She tried to swallow but could not. “Oh? Wondered what?”
“I do not believe that you are indeed engaged to a Captain Frakenham or that he will arrive with a hold full of gold and save your family from further embarrassment.” Mr. Gower’s smile bordered on the insulting. “The other officials at the bank may believe what they will, but I am not so gullible.”
“Mr. Gower, I assure you that I am indeed engaged to Captain Frakenham. How dare you insinuate that—”
“Nonsense. Harriet—Miss Ward—let us be plain. There is no Captain Frakenham. As far as I can ascertain, there never was.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“I believe the falsehood began with your mother. I was curious from the first, so I wrote to London and made inquiries. There is no record of Captain Frakenham or his ship.”
“Your research is incorrect, for I can assure you that—”
“You can assure me nothing.” Mr. Gower captured her hand in his, his grip more than firm. “Harriet, I have been very patient with you and your family. You may rest assured that I have encouraged my superiors to accept your preposterous story about the good captain, and I will continue to do so.” His thumb stroked a path over her knuckles. “For now.”
Harriet barely contained a shudder. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” She tugged on her hand, but he held it firmly. She wondered what he would do if she were to scream, jump out of the window, and make a mad dash for freedom through the garden below.
“Harriet, listen to me.” He stepped closer. “I may not have been born a gentleman, but I will be one before I die, as will my sons. I am asking you to marry me. You have everything to gain in this bargain.”
“What? After next month, Garrett Park will be ours.”
“Yes, but what will you do then? How will you provide for your family?”
She tried again to loosen his grip, tugging futilely. “Please, Mr. Gower—”
“You have the birth and connections I need to truly establish my name. I am willing to overlook the fact that your family is not financially responsible and that your brothers behave deplorably.”
She stopped tugging on her hand, her irritation fanned into pure anger. “What about my sisters? Do you have anything ill to say of them?”
Mr. Gower regarded her gravely. “I’m certain that with a little guidance, they will learn some proper decorum. In time.”
Harriet thought she would explode. How dare this man come to her home and insult her and her family in such a way? Especially after he’d spent the last year demanding payments and being such a nuisance that the sight of his carriage rolling down the drive made poor Mother ill with apprehension.
Harriet gave her hand one last yank, freeing it from his damp grasp. “Mr. Gower, I didn’t wish to say this, but you have forced me. Sir, you are a pain in the a—”
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.
Harriet pulled her hands free, then, for good measure, tucked them behind her back. For a mad moment, she wondered what would be worse—having to pretend to be on an intimate footing with the peacock who stood before her, grinning as if delighted to have the opportunity to torment her, or listening to more of Mr. Gower’s asinine declarations.
“Oh dear!” Mother said. “I am so horrid at making introductions. Captain Frakenham, this is Mr. Gower, an officer from our bank. Mr. Gower, this is Captain Frakenham, Harriet’s betrothed.”
As Mr. Gower reluctantly took the captain’s hand and the two exchanged greetings, Mother gripped Harriet’s arm and whispered in her ear, “It was the only thing I could think of.”
“How did you convince him to help?”
“I didn’t. I just…told him he was Captain Frakenham.” At Harriet’s astonished look, Mother blushed. “He doesn’t remember who he is, so what difference will it make?”
Harriet blinked. “But…what if he remembers his real name?” If he doesn’t already know it. Blast it, what is Mother thinking?
Mr. Gower looked as if he wasn’t sure if he was upside right or upside down. He kept shaking the “captain’s” hand, over and over as if unable to stop.
Chase didn’t know what he was enjoying more, the obvious shock the banker seemed to be experiencing or the look of pure chagrin on Harriet’s face. It was amazing, but Chase was beginning to believe he might actually get a little enjoyment out of this charade.
Truly, there was much to be said for assisting the Wards. For one thing, he was no longer a sanctioned member of society. He was free for once of the onerous St. John name. For this instant, he was a sea captain come to visit his beloved. An earthy, common sea captain, full of tales of excitement and derring-do, as far away from the confining restraints of what Chase St. John really was.
Chase’s heart took flight. He was going to enjoy this very, very much. He grinned at the banker. “Mr. Gower, I’ve heard quite a bit about you. I’m delighted we finally meet.” Chase looked down at where the banker was still mindlessly shaking his hand. “Would you mind releasing my hand? I may need it sometime in the near future.”
Gower reddened and stepped away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you—Captain—I cannot believe—that is to say, I didn’t think you—”
“Didn’t think I what? Would return for my Harriet?” Chase reached over and slid his arm about Harriet’s waist, grinning when he heard her sharp intake of breath. She was a tightly made little bundle, he realized with some pleasure as his hand grazed her hip. “How could I leave such a tasty morsel alone?”
Dead silence met his pronouncement.
Mrs. Ward laughed a little uncertainly. “Captain Frakenham, the things you say!” She fanned herself a little. “The captain has been at sea a very long time.”
“Indeed,” Gower said, his jaw set, his brows lowered. His gaze roamed over Chase a moment, then stopped on the bandage. “I see you are injured.”
“A mere scratch.”
“How did you get it?”
“Pirates,” Chase said blandly.
At his side, Harriet stiffened, and he was hard-pressed not to laugh. Instead, he nodded safely. “A battle with pirates off the coast of India. Nothing serious, of course. We routed them in thirty minutes and captured their cargo.”
“Cargo? Was it a rich prize?”
“Mainly slave women.”
Harriet pinned him with a hard glare. “Slave women?”
“Harem girls, actually.” He held Harriet a little tighter, then winked over her head at Gower. “A healthy prize indeed, a hold full of slave women.”
A sound suspiciously like a snort came from Harriet, who was still being held prisoner against Chase. He blinked innocently down at her. “Did you say something, dear?”
“No,” Harriet said flatly, her brown eyes sparkling with indignation. “Not yet.”
Mother leaned toward the banker. “You’ll have to forgive Captain Frakenham’s boisterous spirits. He’s been at sea for months and months and—”
“Almost a year,” Chase agreed, tugging Harriet a little closer until her hip rested against his. “And I thought of nothing but you, my little flower.”
That seemed to raise some hackles. Harriet’s smile, already patently false, grew more strained and she said through her teeth, “It’s a pity you’ll be returning to your ship so quickly, Captain Frakenham.”
“Return?” Chase said, feigning bewilderment. “Oh no, sweetheart. I have no plans for returning to the sea for a while yet. In fact”—he released her and went to the settee, where he lay down, crossed his ankles on a small pillow and tucked his hands beneath his head, and said, “I plan on enjoying your hospitality for weeks and weeks to come.”
His gaze found the empty tea tray and he frowned. “Speaking of which, I am famished. Harriet, my love, bring me something to eat, would you? But no tea. I prefer stronger spirits. Some brandy would not be amiss.”
A choked exclamation came from Harriet.
Mrs. Ward quickly intervened. “I will be glad to ring for a nice light luncheon. Meanwhile, I daresay Mr. Gower must be on his way. He’s a very important man and cannot linger for hours on end.”
From his position on the couch, Chase gestured magnanimously. “Of course he can’t! Anyone can look at him and see that he is not your average banker, by any means. Mr. Gower, I wish you good speed on your tasks today. May you foreclose on at least three separate properties.”
Mr. Gower tried to smile, but failed. “I do not think I will be foreclosing on anyone today.”
“No? Perhaps tomorrow then. Good day.”
Mrs. Ward opened the door. “Mr. Gower, let me walk you out. Harriet can take care of the captain.”
Gowe
r did not seem to like that arrangement. He looked meaningfully at Harriet. “I will speak with you again, Miss Ward. Soon.”
Chase watched closely. Something passed between the two…irritation on Harriet’s part, and something else on Gower’s. Had that been a warning? Chase frowned, determined to question Harriet the second he had her to himself.
Gower turned from Harriet to bow in Chase’s direction. “It has been a pleasure meeting you, Frakenham. I hope I get to see more of you before you leave again. When is your ship due to sail?”
“Not anytime soon. It is in port with repairs.”
“Is it? Do you mind my asking which port?”
Chase didn’t even pause. “Whitby.”
“Ah yes. I’ve been there. And the name of your ship?”
“Really, Mr. Gower,” Harriet said, an air of tension clinging to her. “There’s no need to question our guest as if he—”
“Nonsense,” Chase said easily. “My ship’s name is The Tempest. She’s a three-masted rig, just returned from India.”
Gower managed a more genuine smile, his eyes narrowed. “Thank you. Good day, Captain.”
“Good day, Mr. Gower.”
Gower bowed once to Harriet, then followed Mrs. Ward out the door. And for the first time since he’d assumed the role of Captain Frakenham, Chase found himself alone with his fiancée.
Chapter 10
His lordship tells me the other day that starch makes the man. But let me tell you, ’tis silver that provides the starch. And that’s where my heart lies.
Lord Kilturn’s valet, Hobart, to Ledbetter, the Earl of Greyley’s valet after a chance meeting at the tailor’s
Harriet eyed the man lying on the settee. He hung over both ends, his arms behind his head, his ankles crossed on one of the good cushions. Not that he seemed to care. He was too busy watching her through narrowed eyes, tension evident in his biting blue gaze.
Harriet sniffed. “You, sir, were impolite.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
How to Treat a Lady Page 9
