The Earl's Honorable Intentions by Deborah Hale Page B

lordship’s. Besides that, there was a disturbing undercurrent of tension between her and the earl that she could not comprehend. Did it spring from her aversion to the man...or feelings that were quite the opposite?
    Hannah dismissed that ridiculous notion before it was fully formed in her mind. Instead she turned her thoughts back to the children. It was on their account she welcomed the opportunity to supervise their father’s recovery.
    Just because his lordship had assured the doctor that he would stay quiet and not overtax his strength did not mean he would be able to keep his promise—especially if the hours dragged by too slowly or he received upsetting news from the Continent. If he took it into his head to disobey his doctor’s orders, none of the servants would have the nerve to intervene. But she would, in order to preserve his health for the children’s sake.
    She had another aim in mind, as well. No matter how difficult it might be, she intended to win the earl’s trust so he would never consider replacing her as his children’s governess.
    Fearing that might be a task beyond her ability Hannah knelt by her window for a moment, clasped her hands and gazed up into the serene blue of the summer morning sky. “Please, Lord, help me to get on well with the earl and make his healing time pass as quickly as possible.”
    It wasn’t often she pestered God with pleas on her own account. Past experience had taught her to be self-reliant and do for others. But surely it was no great failing to ask for a little help now and then. She hoped her Heavenly Father would appreciate that this was a request of particular urgency and grant it.
    The very act of phrasing her prayer gave Hannah a boost of energy and optimism. With divine assistance nothing was impossible, though she feared that keeping Lord Hawkehurst amused for a fortnight might come close.
    Firmly dismissing that thought, she practiced smiling in front of the looking glass. The expression she managed to produce looked more bilious than cheerful.
    “For the children,” she reminded herself. Closing her eyes, she pictured young Peter, Alice and Arthur.
    When she opened her eyes to peer in the glass again, Hannah was relieved to find her features relaxed in a doting smile.
    “Thank You, Lord,” she breathed. “Now I suppose I’d better not delay any longer. It won’t improve his lordship’s temper if I keep him waiting.”
    She discovered just how truly she’d spoken when she entered the earl’s bedchamber a short while later.
    “What kept you?” he demanded. “You claimed to be so eager to be of service and yet you have left me lying here with nothing to occupy me. I am only hours into this wretched convalescence, yet it already feels like a week.”
    All Hannah’s good intentions evaporated in a flare of annoyance. “At least you are alive and have all your limbs and senses about you. Rather than bemoaning two weeks’ rest, you ought to be thankful your wound will heal that quickly!”
    Though she meant every word of it, inwardly Hannah cringed at her shrill, priggish tone. What was it about this man that brought out the worst in her? She spun toward the window and yanked open the curtains so the earl would not witness her grimace of regret. Not that it mattered. He would likely order her out of his presence after such an insolent outburst. She would be fortunate if he did not dismiss her from his service on the spot.
    She heard him inhale sharply at her rebuke and braced for the counterblast she knew would come. One she deserved, no doubt.
    “You are right, Miss Fletcher.” Those were the last words she expected to hear from Lord Hawkehurst. Could her ears be playing tricks on her?
    “I...I am?” She turned back toward the bed, fighting to rally her composure.
    “Of course you are.” There could be no mistaking the earl’s tone of chagrin. “You need not have been so brutally blunt about it, but that does not make you wrong. When the