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Harry stood very straight and tall, his expression calm and confident. There was no deference or apology in his demeanor, and Mariah had a sudden fear that it would provoke her father. Papa was usually extraordinarily even-tempered, but she had known all along he would be furious if he discovered her clandestine affair with Harry. And once Papa got really truly angry...

“My name is Henry Sinclair,” Harry began.

“Papa, I am in love with him!” Mariah burst out.

Papa put up one hand and shot her a stern glance. “And who is this man, Mariah? Not one of the eligible gentlemen who called on you”—his lip curled as he glared once more at Harry—”properly.”

“No,” Harry agreed. “I called on her most improperly.”

Her mother gasped. Mariah blushed and forced an uneasy smile. Papa’s eyes flashed; he took three steps across the room, drew back his fist, and punched Harry. Harry made no effort to defend himself, but absorbed the blow in silence.

Mariah gasped. “Papa, stop!”

“How dare you,” said her father in a venomous tone.

Harry held up one hand to stay Mariah as she reached for him, gingerly touching his jaw. “I deserve that,” he muttered before looking back at Papa. “I should not have done it. But...” He glanced at Mariah, standing wide-eyed with her hands clapped over her mouth. “But I found myself utterly unable to obey my own sense and stay away. I have fallen completely in love with Lady Mariah.”

And her heart soared. She beamed at him.

“I see.” There was pure contempt in the earl’s expression. “You’re one of those vile fortune hunters, luring a respectable young woman away from her family and friends, seducing her out of her innocence.”

“Papa!”

“And who are you, sir?” Doncaster went on. His eyes raked over Harry, in his worn linen shirt and plain woolen coat. “Who are you to raise your eyes to her? You have the look of an adventurer about you, a rogue. Plotting to elope with my daughter! To steal her away from her family! I should have you arrested.”

“Papa!” Mariah slapped her hands on her hips. “He saved your life, and mine!”

“Mariah, be quiet. One of our own footmen shielded me from the blast⁠—”

“And who protected me? Who alerted the footman there was a bomb?”

A tense silence fell over the room. All eyes turned on Harry, who tightened his jaw but said nothing.

“But how did you meet him, dearest?” The countess joined the conversation at last, turning the talk away from any virtue Harry might have.

“I—I met him at our ball, Mama.”

Her mother looked puzzled, then her face went blank. “The elusive Harry, I presume?”

Mariah’s face felt hot. “Erm... Yes.”

Lady Doncaster turned to inspect Harry with cool eyes. “You were not on our list.”

He met her gaze directly. “No, madam.”

“He was,” said Mariah at the same time. “But under a different name.”

Harry closed his eyes as if he hadn’t wanted to reveal that. Mariah felt a twinge of panic. She hadn’t expected her parents to accept her decision with calm good grace, but she could see Mama’s instinct to support her was weakening. The shock was wearing off, and she was beginning to agree with Papa. Mariah had to explain everything quickly, or at least as much as she knew—although now she realized she didn’t know everything about Harry and what he’d been up to⁠—

Harry touched her arm. “Mariah,” he murmured.

She turned to him, frustrated and anxious. He smiled a little and her frown faded. Yes, she really should let Harry explain. He gave her a small nod before turning back to her father. “I should begin at the beginning, sir.”

Papa’s expression did not look inviting, to say the least, but before Harry could begin, there was a thump on the door. Almost immediately it opened and a footman stepped into the room, bareheaded and wearing mismatched shoes, his nightshirt stuffed into his breeches.

“Viscount Camden, sir,” he announced breathlessly.

Her father growled in displeasure, a flicker of fury passing over his face as he turned, but another man already stood in the doorway. It was past one in the morning; why on earth would anyone be here now? Mariah took a closer look at the footman—Jameson, she realized, the one who had told her where to find Harry. And when she swung around to see Harry’s response, his still posture and expressionless face spoke volumes. He was the reason Camden was here.