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right along with her, though of course he would be snatched up in the first week.
    And Aunt wasn’t going to interfere, which was a relief. Worse than Hannah’s limp would be the immediate perception that her only relation was dependent on tinctures and medicinal tots from day to day.
    “You’re falling asleep.”
    Hannah opened her eyes slowly. “I’m enjoying the story, thank you. If you’d like to leave, I’m sure a maid will be along shortly.”
    “Of course.” He put the book aside and tugged on the bellpull. “ Now a maid will be along shortly. Let’s get you to bed, shall we?”
    Before Hannah could protest, he’d scooped her up against his chest. Without winter clothes between them, the embrace was more intimate than it had been earlier in the day.
    “Arms around my neck, Boston. We can’t court further mishap with you already injured.”
    She complied, feeling the heat of him and that wonderfully spicy scent wrapping around her.
    “I can’t believe you agreed to my request without making some tart protest,” he said as he crossed the room with her. “I’m heartened is what I am. Cheered even.”
    “Cheeky is what you are, isn’t that the English word?” she said as they moved into the bedroom.
    “For God’s sake, why wasn’t the fire lit?”
    He lowered her to the bed and saw to the oversight, pumping the daylights out of a set of bellows to get a roaring blaze going.
    “Here.” He lifted her up and sat her in a rocking chair near the fire.
    “I am not a piece of masonry, to be hoisted about without my permission.”
    “I’m running the warmer over your sheets, Boston. Perhaps you’d rather get into a cold bed in a cold room and try to manage on your own?”
    Must he sound so amused? Must he be so thoughtful? “The maid can see to my sheets.”
    “Now that somebody has considerately rung for a maid.”
    He disappeared into the other room and came back with the afghan. The afghan he’d warmed and wrapped around her foot with such care and comfort Hannah had been hard put not to melt. It almost, not quite but almost, had served as consolation for the loss of his warm hands wrapped around that same foot.
    “Up you go.” He lifted her again, and she participated to the extent her arms were around his neck. He set her down on the bed and delivered another magnificent scowl.
    “You do that so well, sir.”
    “Hoist you about?”
    That too. “Frown, express displeasure, disapproval.” She shifted on the mattress, because it was cold. Blasted cold.
    “I don’t want to leave you until the maid comes along,” he said, hands on hips. “And I don’t think for a minute a nibble of cheese toast was an adequate meal.”
    “So I should have supper in bed?”
    She was hungry, but God was in charity with her, for her stomach didn’t rumble very loudly.
    “You should be spanked soundly,” he said on a sigh.
    Step-papa would certainly have agreed.
    The maid appeared in the doorway, a hefty young woman with a clean, full-length apron to her credit and her cap neatly tied.
    “You’ll get Miss Hannah tucked in, please,” the earl said. “And mind her foot is injured, and her sheets cold. In future, her bedroom fire is to be lit when we get up from table, the same as every other bedroom.”
    The maid bobbed a curtsy. “Of course, milord.”
    He left on that grouchy little scold, and Hannah felt abruptly both the fatigue of a long day and a mild throbbing in her right os whatever .
    He’d been right about that too: she’d barely twisted her ankle, but the wrench to her hip and back had been as significant as the injury to her dignity.
    “I can stand beside the bed while you use the warmer,” Hannah said. “The room really is a little chilly.”
    “It is,” the maid said, “and I do apologize, mum, but your aunt is still in the dining room, enjoying an aperitif, and we typically don’t see to the bedrooms until the ladies have arisen from the table. Saves on coin that way. Shall I