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going to expire, she did not want to do it cowering beneath the covers like a ninny. Using every bit of composure she could find, she managed a shaky smile. “I believe I am feeling better.”
    Alec’s silver gaze roamed across her, one brow lifting in polite disbelief. “We should send a message to your aunt. She’ll be worried by now.”
    Julia doubted if either Therese or Aunt Lydia would do more than complain about the inconvenience of her absence, but she wasn’t up to explaining such a thing to Alec. He would offer his sympathy and her tattered emotions would dissolve completely.
    “I’ll write a letter to your aunt,” he said abruptly. “I realize this is awkward, Julia. I don’t wish you to be uneasy.”
    The concern in his voice made her want him all the more. Tears welled and she pulled the covers to her face.
    “Damn!” he swore. “Where is Chilton?” Alec moved away from the bed.
    Julia waited with bated breath for the sound of his footsteps out the door. Instead, he startled her by returning to sit beside her. He thrust a bowl into her lap. “Here.”
    She dropped the covers to clutch at the porcelain basin and she found herself staring straight into Alec’s amazing silver-gray eyes. He was so handsome, smiling down at her, that lock of black hair falling over his forehead. All thought of tears evaporated. “Th-thank you,” she stammered.
    A faint smile curved his mouth as his gaze roamed over her, lingering on her mouth before coming to rest on the spill of hair over her shoulder.
    Julia knew it must look as if a bird had nested in it. If he was looking for flaws, he’d just discovered a treasure trove of imperfections. She was nearsighted, brown-haired, and square-chinned. Add to that mussed hair and horridly wrinkled clothes, and she knew she must look worse than death.
    “The rum, milord,” intoned Chilton, standing stiffly in the doorway holding a tray with two glasses. Barely a mouthful of liquid rested in the bottom of each.
    “I sent for a bottle.” Distinct reproof deepened Alec’s voice.
    The servant squared his shoulders. “Surely you didn’t need more than this, milord. Especially since her ladyship has not yet risen.”
    Julia squinted at the man. Alec caught her look and said, “I should have introduced you. Lady Hunterston, may I present Chilton, my valet. I inherited him from my grandfather.”
    It took Julia a moment to realize
she
was Lady Hunterston. She managed a weak smile.
    Chilton leaned toward her, his narrow face puckered. For a horrifying moment she thought he would cry. “My lady, allow me to be the first to tell you how much we have looked forward to the day when—”
    “Master Alec!”
    All eyes turned to the door. A stout woman, dressed in a neat, dark gown and carrying a laden tray, beamed at Julia. An impressive ring of keys proclaimed her to be the housekeeper. She bobbed a curtsey that set her brassy yellow hair into a frenzy of quaking curls. “I brought your breakfast, m’lord. I thought mayhap you and her ladyship would like to have it up here, all cozy-like.”
    The housekeeper placed the tray on the table before the fire. The pungent aroma of fresh bacon wafted across the room, and Julia clutched her bowl tighter.
    Chilton set his tray on the nightstand with an audible
thump
, his thin mouth folded in disapproval. “Mrs. Winston, I told you his lordship
preferred
to eat in the breakfast room.”
    The housekeeper sniffed. “So you did. But seeing as how his lordship is newly wed and all, I thought it best to bring it
here
.” The housekeeper plopped her hands on her hips, a pugnacious challenge in her face. “You overstep your boundaries if you think to tell me when and where to set the table, Mr. Chilton.”
    Alec caught Julia’s questioning gaze and gave a deprecating shrug. “The housekeeper, Mrs. Winston.”
    “Did you inherit her, too?”
    He nodded morosely.
    Mrs. Winston’s broad front teeth appeared in a wide smile. “I’ve