Free Ethan: Lord of Scandals by Grace Burrowes

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 usefulness to her. Pleased he knew what to do.
    “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, marvelously nonplussed—seemed to enjoy it so much.
    ***
    “Papa?” Jeremiah scrambled to his feet, dragging Joshua upright with him, their astonishment at seeing their father in the nursery suite plain on their faces.
    “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