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did anyone in London. If it were up to her, she would keep it that way.
    Which meant that she would continue with her tasks as if she were like any other young woman—strong, capable, and completely unaffected by the memory of his touch.
    L iam did not know what to think about Lord Boswick. By all accounts, he was just as informal as his daughter, immediately asking Liam to abandon all the Lord Boswick nonsense.
    â€œYou may address me as Boswick, Pimm, or even Serge if it suits you,” he said a few moments ago, during his examination. And when Liam asked if he was a physician, he went into a lengthy explanation of an Uncle Peirce, listing all of his accomplishments.
    Liam still didn’t know if Boswick knew what he was doing. Or if he was a well-enunciating lunatic. Members of Liam’s coterie did not poke and prod each other in order to heal a wound. They hired physicians for that sort of thing. Nor , Liam thought, embarrassed, did they tend to a guest’s chamber pot. Not even his own valet would have done so. Then again, Neville was rather squeamish.
    And while none of his acquaintances had daughters of two and twenty, he was certain they would never allow their offspring to play nursemaid.
    â€œHave you no servants, Boswick?” he asked when his host returned to the room, clipped, heavy footfalls announcing his approach.
    The baron stopped beside the bed and audibly slid the pot underneath—likely so that Liam would not have to hunt around in the dark for it.
    â€œI do,” Boswick said. “Unfortunately, the servants were first delayed by a storm and now—for I received word just this morning—due to a broken strut on the carriage.”
    Which meant they would both be forced to endure this intimacy a short while longer. Though Liam had to wonder if it disturbed Boswick at all. He certainly never let on that he was inconvenienced in any way. That notwithstanding, most members of the ton knew how to feign sincerity. They could smile behind their fans just as easily as plunging a dagger into your back without even a twitch in their countenance.
    Yet with Boswick, there was no underlying tone of falsity or derision. In fact, he made Liam feel almost . . . welcome. What an odd fellow.
    â€œAnd to answer the next obvious question,” Boswick continued, “yes. I realize my practices and even my mannerisms are rather unconventional by society’s standards. After all, I spent the first years of my life with nannies and tutors, like any young man who expected to inherit a barony. I saw my parents once a week for the required recitation of my studies, as is commonplace. At ten, I went off to school and returned home only for holiday. I barely knew my parents before they died. And in the years that followed, I discovered that the person who’d made the biggest impact on my life had not been my father but my—”
    â€œUncle Peirce,” Liam interjected, coming to something of an understanding of his host. In fact, Liam’s father had shared similar stories of his own upbringing. Perhaps that had been the reason his father had taken on the role of Liam’s tutor himself. Liam had not known until he’d gone to Eton how unconventional that had been.
    â€œWhy, yes. An astute observation. My uncle’s less formal demeanor left its mark upon me, I’m afraid,” Boswick said from across the room. By the sound of it, he was pouring liquid into a glass. “I hope you forgive me if I made you uncomfortable. I’m not one to stand upon ceremony, but I will respect your wishes if you’d rather have your own physician. However, I do recommend that you remain here for another day, at least. Your injuries are severe enough that any strenuous activity might worsen your condition.”
    The news sent a fresh spear of alarm through Liam. And even more disturbingly, his first impulse was to wish for the sound of Adeline’s voice— correction