The Earl's Honorable Intentions Read Online Free PDF

conferred certain obligations and rights regarding the child’s upbringing, especially if one or both parents were deceased. It was an honor usually bestowed on a relative or close friend of the family. Among the nobility, it was common to ask someone of higher rank. Certainly not a mere governess.
    “Did she, indeed?” There could be no mistaking the earl’s disapproval as he scowled down at his beef tea. “I suppose there was no one more suitable at hand. How have the little ones been faring? Are they well?”
    Hannah gave a stiff nod. “As well as can be expected, I believe. I placed them with wet nurses. They seem to be thriving.”
    “Very good. And Lord Edgecombe?”
    “Your son is well enough in body, sir, but very much affected by the loss of his dear mother, as you may imagine.”
    The earl would have to imagine his young son’s feelings, for Hannah was under no illusion that he shared them. From the moment he regained consciousness, Lord Hawkehurst had shown far more interest in whether Bonaparte lived than the fact that his wife had died.
    “Indeed.” His lordship’s voice sounded suddenly weary. His hand sank onto the bedcovers, the spoon lightly grasped between his fingers. “I have had enough of this beef tea. Kindly take it away.”
    Hannah doubted he’d managed to feed himself as much as he might have been able to eat if he’d accepted her help.
    “Is there anything else I can fetch or do for you, sir?” she asked as she retrieved the bowl and spoon. “A clean nightshirt?”
    The instant she asked the question, Hannah wished she could take it back. She had not been able to resist the urge to remind Lord Hawkehurst that if he’d accepted her help, he might not have ended up with a damp, stained garment. As a consequence, she had left herself open to a most awkward possibility. If his lordship agreed to her suggestion, she would either have to go wake the footman or assist the earl herself.
    “That will not be necessary,” he replied, to her vast relief. “It can wait until morning. Then I will want a footman to help me wash and shave.”
    “I will make the arrangements, sir.” Hannah returned to the bed to help him lie down again, but he warned her away with a stern look.
    With obvious effort, he inched down in the bed until he lay nearly flat again. By the time he was settled, his eyelids were beginning to droop.
    When Hannah resumed her accustomed place beside his bed, he cast her an exasperated glance. “I have no intention of dying, Miss Fletcher, so there is no need for you to watch over me. Go to your own bed and get a proper sleep. You look as if you could use it.”
    By the time the earl finished speaking, his eyes were closed.
    “I will, sir.” Hannah did not budge from the chair. “If you insist.”
    As she expected, no such insistence came. The earl’s fierce features gradually relaxed and his breath soon came in slow, deep waves.
    An answering sigh escaped Hannah’s lips. In part it expressed her relief and gratitude that Lord Hawkehurst seemed likely to live. But it also contained a note of frustration. Now that he was conscious, she feared the earl’s stubborn independence might be the greatest obstacle to his recovery.
    * * *
    Gavin could not remember closing his eyes. But when he opened them again the room was bathed in muted red-gold light. This waking did not disorient him as the last one had. He recalled his late-night conversation with his son’s governess and his pitiful effort to feed himself.
    “Good morning, sir.” Hannah Fletcher’s greeting made him start, and that provoked a sharp twinge in his wounded side.
    Had she deliberately tried to startle him in retaliation for catching her sleeping last night? “What are you still doing here, Miss Fletcher? I thought I ordered you to bed.”
    “You did mention it, sir.” She tried to smother a yawn but failed. “I asked if you insisted, but you did not.”
    Gavin scowled. As colonel of a regiment, he was