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hint of pear. Liam drew in a breath, feeling his chest expand more than before. He told himself that it had nothing to do with her presence, but more to do with the scent he caught. His stomach growled.
    â€œSince you noticed that our guest was awake and still bustled in here without a word of greeting or to ask for an introduction,” Boswick chided, “I can only assume you’ve already exchanged pleasantries.”
    That wry grin tugged at Liam’s lips once more. Their pleasantries had been somewhat varied. He preferred the ones from the beginning of their acquaintance, rather than after their introduction. In fact, he would feel more at ease if he still thought she was a servant’s daughter.
    â€œOf sorts,” she answered, her tone clipped. “The earl awoke briefly—only long enough for a drink of water. Since he seemed ill-suited for company, I did not want to wake you, Father.”
    Knowing that pain awaited him should he laugh, Liam fought the urge. Gentleman’s daughter or not, he liked her razor wit.
    Boswick cleared his throat. “Our guest might have required my assistance.”
    â€œI sent her away with a desire for solitude,” Liam said in her defense. Though why he bothered, he didn’t know. He should have let her be chastised by her father. After leaving Liam to suffer an unquenched thirst, she deserved it.
    â€œAh, that explains it then. I imagine you were in even more pain earlier, Wolford,” Boswick said, the gruffness gone from his tone. “Which leads me to my errand. I’ll send a missive to Rendell posthaste.”
    As Boswick’s footsteps moved toward the door, Liam felt the ghost of an old manipulation rekindle his ire. Miss Pimm had not been told to leave the room. “Surely it would not be appro—”
    â€œFather,” she interrupted, her voice turning colder by degree. “His lordship is worried that he will be forced into marriage with me if we are left alone. I pray that you would ease his mind in that regard.”
    Boswick’s footfalls stopped. He was quiet for a moment. “My apologies, Wolford. With a man in your condition, the thought had not occurred to me. Nor had it occurred to me that your experience might have been otherwise. And should that be true, I am sorry.”
    The fact that Boswick read him so easily and spoke so sincerely left Liam feeling exposed. He shifted against the brace of pillows at his back.
    â€œI will tell you, however,” Boswick continued, “that my daughter is too precious to give away to just any man. I would not use her either to gain an earl for the family or for any reason.”
    Liam suddenly felt like a speck of mud. While typically an excellent judge of character, Liam might have faltered in this circumstance. The past tended to blur one’s vision, he supposed. “Forgive me, Boswick. I meant no insult. You have every right to call me out.”
    â€œNo need,” his host answered, his tone straightforward, forgiving. “It is good for men to have an understanding of each other. That is the place where trust begins.”
    Then Boswick’s footfalls started again, echoing in the hall and down the stairs. All the while, Adeline said nothing. Liam knew she was still in the room because of the crisp scrape and clack of porcelain dishes moving from one place to the next.
    It did not escape his notice that he’d insulted her as well. That was, if he chose to trust his host completely. He felt a sense that he ought to, and yet experience cautioned him from being too hasty. So for now, it would be best to pretend more faith than he could freely give.
    â€œAre you as merciful as your father, Miss Pimm?”
    â€œPerhaps.” Her tone was bland, revealing nothing. Then she hesitated, and in the pause, he heard a chair groan across the floorboards near his bedside. “I will forgive you on one condition.”
    â€œWhat would that