The maid appeared, having the sense to knock softly and close the door softly when Ethan permitted her to enter. She bore clean sheets and some buttered toast.
“No food.” Miss Portman waved a hand weakly when the maid had left again. “I cannot, Mr. Grey.”
“Yes, you can,” he corrected her, taking the cloth from her forehead. “Just a bite or two, washed down with some tea. I’ll help.” She managed a very weak glare at him, which suggested the patient would live. He gently hefted her up, and while holding her forward against his shoulder, he arranged pillows at her back.
He straightened, looking her over as he did. “You did not threaten me with dire punishments for my presumptions, so you must allow you are not yet feeling quite the thing.”
“I am making allowances for your unfamiliarity with compassionate impulses.” The words held only a fraction of her usual starch.
“Two sips.” Ethan held the glass to her lips, thinking it odd that now that he had a moment to order her around, he dearly wished she wasn’t permitting it.
“I’ll do it,” she muttered against the rim of the glass, wrapping her hand around his much-larger one.
“And now your toast.” He set the glass down and picked up the plate, tearing her off a bite right over the plate so the crumbs wouldn’t get on the bedclothes. He held it to her lips, and she took it from him with her hand.
“You are surprisingly solicitous,” she said, munching the toast, “if inclined to managing.”
“Chew,” he ordered, smiling slightly. “To be accounted managing by one of your standards makes my day complete. Two more sips.”
She complied without argument. He suspected she knew that goaded him too.
“The maid will be back shortly to do up your braid, change these sheets, and remove the tray. Remain silent, Alice Portman, and do not fuss.”
He reached for her hand, which was cool in his grasp.
“Now,” he went on, keeping his fingers wrapped around hers, “you will not exert yourself for at least the rest of this day. I will keep the boys out of trouble, but I will also check on you, to make sure you are sipping your tea, resting, and eating enough to keep a bird alive. If that featherbrained young lady serving you does not report to my satisfaction, you will find yourself bearing more of my company.
“You are a disgrace, Alice Portman,” Ethan informed her, “to get into such a state and not even ring for a damned maid. I am not happy with you.”
He was pleased, though, for some unfathomable reason. He was pleased she was tolerating his fussing and scolding. Pleased to be of some
“You are excused from tonight’s meal,” he said very sternly. “And henceforth we will have water on the table at all times. You will rest, and you will acquaint yourself with your surroundings. Write the loved ones you miss, and otherwise take one day to adjust to your new surroundings. Do I make myself understood?”
She nodded when she probably wanted to dump her tea over his head. It was time to go, before he provoked her into a display of vinegar for his own reassurance. Still, he held her hand a moment longer.
It would be a good moment to tell her about his willingness to give parenting his children another try—a better try—but he kept his peace, even as he marveled at the delicacy of the bones of her hand. All women were small to him, given his height and muscle. Alice was taller than most, and yet to him, she was delicate and diminutive. And up close, she smelled good, of lemons and sunshine.
“I’ll leave you in peace now.” Ethan turned her hand loose and wrung out another cold cloth. “You sip tea, nibble toast, and let the maid brush your hair for hours on end. If you don’t behave, I’ll thrash you silly.”
“I’ll behave,” she replied, smiling at him faintly. “My thanks for your assistance, Mr. Grey.”
He rose from the bed and glared down at her. “Would you call me Ethan if I asked you to?” He should not ambush her in a weak moment, but there was no point trying to ambush her in any other kind of moment.
He’d asked. He’d actually put his wishes into the form of a question. This was a measure of his panic at seeing her ailing, though try as he might, he couldn’t resent her for it.
“I would allow it, under certain circumstances, if you asked politely. Any governess worth her salt knows to reward proper manners, particularly when the result is such a marvelously nonplussed expression.”
Her smile had nothing in it of buns, spectacles, or sensible shoes. Her smile was pure, lovely female benevolence, and it inspired Ethan to a reckless display of his best manners.
“I am asking, most politely, for the honor of my given name from you.”
Because she’d back down. He knew she’d back down, plead her diminished capacity, and otherwise let him call her bluff.
Her smile grew yet more brilliant. “When circumstances don’t require otherwise, I shall call you Ethan.”
He smiled back—let her have a taste of her own good manners rewarded—then made a bid to knock her off her governess pins by leaning over and brushing a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll stop by after lunch, and you had best be napping, or at least on the mend, or there will be unpleasant consequences.”
He finished with an admonitory scowl, thinking this scolding business was almost fun. No wonder Miss Portman—who was looking gratifyingly, no,
“Good morning.” Ethan frowned down at them. “Gentlemen.” He added it as an afterthought, and it earned him a wary exchange of looks from his sons. “Miss Portman is not faring well today, so we are cast upon one another’s company. I am charged to get the both of you outside before it gets too hot, and then we will visit Miss Portman at midday. Now then…” Ethan’s sons were gazing at him with disconcerting stillness. “What had you planned for the day?”
Joshua shrugged his little shoulders. “Nothing.” He shot a puzzled look at his older brother. “Well, we didn’t.”
“Miss Portman said we’d have to see where we were,” Jeremiah offered hesitantly. “She said there should be time for a ride and would discuss it with you.”
“A ride might be just the thing.” He’d ridden with them before, though the last time was months ago, and it was by happenstance. Still, it was a good place to start.
And it went surprisingly well, the ponies having been kept in work by the grooms during the boys’ absence. Ethan rode Argus, who was too tired from his travels to provide his usual brand of entertainment, and the boys largely absorbed each other’s attention as they walked and trotted their mounts through the woods. They were all headed back to the barn at the walk, the heat building, when Joshua turned to his brother with a questioning look, though no inquiry had been voiced.
Jeremiah shook his head emphatically, which inspired Joshua to stick out his tongue then whack his pony one stout blow with his crop. The little beast shot forward, Jeremiah’s mount did the same, and Ethan and Argus were left to bring up the rear at a canter.
Shouting wasn’t going to help. Ponies were wily little things, and these two were both sane, sittable, and sure-footed. His sons were standing in their stirrups, clearly accustomed to a hearty gallop from time to time. When Joshua aimed his pony at a stile, though, Ethan felt his heart rise up in his throat.
“Joshua, no!” Ethan bellowed, but the pony had seen the objective and wasn’t to be pulled off his fence. At a dead run, the animal charged up to the fence and sailed over, Joshua grinning like a fiend on his back. Jeremiah cleared the same obstacle, but had the sense to shoot worried glances over his shoulder as Ethan popped the jump easily behind them.
Only when Joshua drew his pony up did he glance at his father. His grin evaporated as he recalled who their groom was that morning, though he patted his pony, who was rudely cropping grass after its exertions.
Ethan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Who taught you to jump like that?”
“Nobody taught us,” Jeremiah piped up, ever protective. “The ponies just know, and it’s shorter to get home if you hop the stiles. Shorter to get to the village too.”
“So you
“We canter them,” Jeremiah said, his chin coming up. “Mostly.”
So they’d cantered them the first time, and gone screaming over forever after. Ethan did not know whether to
