Eliza slips into Harrington's room to find Helen kissing her son's hand and Penny holding the other to her face. They all look towards her as she enters, she flushes.

"Sorry." She apologises, "I'll come back.

"Nonsense, we were just leaving," Helen says sweeping the tears from under her eyes. "The doctor said to feed you soup so I'll go and organise the kitchen to make you some." She tells Jasper, kissing his cheek.

"I don't want to go, I want to stay with Eliza and Jasper," Penny complains scrunching up her nose and crossing her arms moodily.

"Penny, you can see him later," Helen takes hold of her daughter's hand.

"Bye." She says giving him a small wave before she is dragged her out the door, Eliza closes the door behind them. Eliza notices Jasper's sheets have been changed and he has a fresh shirt on. Colour has returned to his cheeks, well but tired.

"You didn't come back," Jasper says accusingly watching her sit in the chair next to his bed, she rolls her eyes at him.

"I thought you could use some privacy." She replies pointedly, he grumbles in return.

"What did the doctor say, I must have missed him on his arrival." She presses.

"Nothing to worry about," Harrington says gruffly.

"I don't think that is quite what he said."

Harrington remains silent, not looking her in the eye.

"I'll just ask your mother if you don't tell me." Eliza presses with a smug smile.

He groans "Fine, minx, the wound is not infected, I just need plenty of rest and....soup."

"I can't make soup," Eliza confesses.

"That doesn't surprise me." He says.

"What on earth do you mean by that?" She demands, irritated.

"Eliza, you hunt, and are currently wearing men's clothes, I don't think cooking is high on your priority list."

"Hmmm, I could learn." She says thoughtfully.

"Why are you wearing men's clothes?" He asks confused, observing her outfit.

"Long story, James let me borrow them."

"What?" Harrington whispers, deadly quiet, "You wearing James's clothes?" His voice has become dangerously emotionless.

"Yes..." Eliza says unsure.

"Take them off!" He demands reaching for her.

"I will not." She says, jumping off the chair and slipping away.

"You are my fiance, you should not be wearing men's clothes let along someone else's," Harrington says forcefully.

Eliza stands in the corner, far away and scoffs, shaking her head fervently.

"I am wearing these clothes because I arrived here in the middle of the night in a soaked nightgown, was lent a dress that didn't fit, rode to Jame's without shoes and he was kind enough to lend me something that doesn't crush my ribs."

"You came here in a nightdress?" Harrington asks surprised. "In the middle of the night?"

"Of course, I came as soon as I knew," Eliza says. " I only left because I was so angry at Dominic I needed to do something."

"Was angry?" He notices the past tense.

"You can't be angry at the dead."

"He's dead?" Harrington sits up in disbelief.

"He died while I was with James."

"Does my mother know?" He falls back onto his pillows.

"Only James, you and I," Eliza says slowly.

A thought crosses her mind as she watches him process her news. "What do you think drove Dominic to challenge you?"

"He didn't." He replies.

"I am sorry?" She must have misheard.

"I challenged him." He states.

"Are you insane? What on earth made you do such a thing?" She yells.

"You."

"What?"

"He insulted my fiance." He says like it is an obvious reason.

"And I hit him, all was settled!" She shouts

"Not for me." He insists, "He insulted your pride."

"So you challenged him to duel." She says exasperatedly.

"It was the only logical explanation."

"No, it wasn't!" Eliza cries, "I almost lost you because of your pride, not mine."

"I was defending you! Any gentleman would have done the same." He yells back

"Jasper, I don't need you to defend me." She says softly, she sits on his bed. "However heroic and brave you are, please don't almost die on me again." She places her hand on his face.

"Fine." He concedes. Eliza breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"I remember you saying Charlotte is pregnant," Harrington says, recalling what he first heard when he woke up.

"Might be, but it's a secret so shush." She puts a finger to her mouth.

Harrington raises his eyebrows.

"I thought you were unconscious." She says defensively.

"Our wedding has been moved up then? To next week?" He asks

"Oh well, do you think you will be strong enough then?"

"It's just a wedding," He says breezily.

"You won't be that confident when you see Charlotte's plans, they gave me a headache just looking at them." She says knowingly.

"I'll be there, headache and all." He promises.

"I think it will either be the Friday or Saturday, so you have a week or so. Is that enough time for you to recover your strength?"

"He'll be fine." Helen says bustling with a tray of soup and tea, "Sorry I heard you through the door and I may have been listening." She says guiltily putting the tray next to the bed. "Get plenty of this chicken soup down you and you'll be perfect to get married."

"I brought you a glass of ginger beer." She says to Eliza who accepts the glass.

"Thank you, mother," Harrington says sitting up properly, he lifts the floral china bowl from the tray, places it on his lap and picks up a spoon.

"Supper will be ready at 7 if you would you like to eat something," Helen says to Eliza.

"Thank you." She replies, sipping her ginger beer.

"Eat it all Jasper," Helen calls to him as she closes the door.

"That smells really good," Eliza says breathing in the sent of chicken and rosemary.

"It is." Harrington agrees, sipping the steaming soup. Eliza's stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly, she blushes and he pauses his spoon halfway to his mouth and stares at her stomach with amusement.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, laughter in his eyes, she puts the glass on the side table.

"Maybe." She says looking at the clock, 6:15, an excruciating 45 minutes before supper. Harrington returns to his soup.

"This soup is good." He says unapologetically.

"Share?" Eliza asks hopefully.

"Hmmm." He tilts his head in thought. Taking advantage of his distraction she steals the spoon from his hand and dips it into the soup, she gulps it down and relishes the tasty food even as it burns her mouth and throat.

"You're right," She says, "It's good."

Harrington stares at her in shock with no hint of anger but a slight slip of annoyance.

"I am the injured patient and you are stealing my get better soup." He snatches the spoon from her.

"True but I am hungry," Eliza says with a grin. He sighs defeatedly and offers her a spoon full, she looks at him warily but opens her mouth and he feeds her the soup.

"Thank you."

"It makes me sick to see Harrington trying to be nice."

"James!" Eliza leaps from the bed and hugs him. "I wondered when you were going to arrive."

He pats her on the back.

"You alright?" He asks Harrington.

"Yes." He says rigidly, Eliza lets go of James and shifts awkwardly.

"I should go, let you talk." She goes to leave but James touches her shoulder.

"No, stay." He says, Harrington nods in agreement.

"James, there's something I need to ask you and I need you, to be honest." He says seriously, his face drawn.

"Of course." James looks nervous and Eliza feels just as anxious at Harrington's expression.

"I am getting married next week, will you be my best man?"