Stranger in My Arms(44)

“No!”

Lara winced inwardly as she saw the disapproving look that flitted across the footman’s face. Eggs were considered a luxurious treat by the servants, never to be wasted. Although they were too well trained to show open disapproval, some of the servants did not want to wait on a boy of Johnny’s unsavory background. However, the boy could help matters by behaving himself and showing due appreciation for his new circumstances. If he could manage to endear himself to the servants-indeed, to the master-of the Hawksworth household, his position would be far more secure.

“I’m sure you could manage just one little bite,” Lara coaxed, scooping up a bit of egg in a silver spoon.

Johnny shook his head violently. “More chocolate,” he commanded, evidently having no plans to be endearing this morning.

“Later,” Lara said firmly. “Here, take some of this toast. And a bite of ham.”

His gaze met hers, assessing her determination, and he capitulated suddenly. “Awright.” He held a piece of toast in both hands and bit off a corner, chewing enthusiastically. Eschewing the fork near his plate, he tore a chunk of ham with his fingers and stuffed it in his mouth.

Lara smiled, resisting the urge to lean over and crush him with a hug.

For now she just wanted him to eat until his scrawny frame had filled out. The proper use of table utensils would be addressed later.

Even with the time she had spent at the orphanage, she had never been able to oversee a particular child’s daily routine and enjoy interactions such as these. She found it unexpectedly satisfying. For the first time in her life, the burden of barrenness didn’t seem so crushing. Even if she couldn’t have her own flesh-and-blood child, she could create a family.

As Lara speculated silently on her husband’s possible reactions to the idea of taking more children into their home, Hunter entered the breakfast room, looking uncharacteristically subdued.

“Good morning,” Lara said cautiously.

Hunter made no reply, only cast a loathing glance at the sideboard laden with food. Looking pale beneath his tan, he turned to the waiting footman. “Tell Mrs. Gorst to make some of her witch’s brew,” he growled. “And bring a damned headache powder while you’re at it.”

“Yes, milord,” the footman said, complying hastily. The recipe for a special “morning after” remedy had been in the family for years, but only Mrs. Gorst knew what was in it.

Johnny watched with wide eyes as Hunter poured himself a glass of water. The child looked at Lara questioningly. “Is ‘e a duke?”

“No, darling,” she replied, amused. “He’s an earl.”

Clearly disappointed, Johnny continued to stare at Hunter’s broad back, and tugged at Lara’s sleeve.

“What is it?” she murmured.

“Is ‘e going to be my papa now?”

Hunter choked on a mouthful of water. Lara’s lips quivered before she managed to reply. She stroked his black hair soothingly. “No, Johnny.”

“Why doesn’t ‘e say nothing?” the boy piped in a voice that seemed to grate on Hunter’s nerves.

“Hush, darling,” she whispered. “I think he has a headache.”

“Oh.” Abandoning his interest in Hunter, Johnny looked down at the crumbs on his plate. He heaved a sigh. “I wonder how Mousie is.”

Lara smiled, considering how to distract him from thoughts of his lost pet. “Why don’t you visit the stables today?” she suggested.

“You can pet the horses and feed them a carrot or two.”

“Oh, yes!” He brightened at the idea, and wriggled eagerly atop the pile of books.

“Wait,” Lara cautioned, removing the napkin from around his neck.

“First I’ll send for Naomi, and she’ll help you to wash your hands and face.”

“But I washed yesterday,” came the indignant reply.

Lara laughed and dabbed at his sticky face with the napkin. “You must remove the chocolate stains before you visit the stables, or you’ll attract every fly in Market Hill.”

After Johnny had been dispatched with Naomi, and the footman had brought a glass full of the mysterious remedy, Lara turned her attention to Hunter.

“Do sit down,” she invited. “Perhaps a slice of toast would help you-” “God, no.” The suggestion made Hunter wince. He sipped the remedy cautiously, and set it aside after finishing half the glass. Standing by the window, he cast Lara a brooding glance. It seemed that he had difficulty meeting her eyes, almost as~...

It couldn’t be that he was embarrassed by his drinking spree of the previous night, could it? Lara rejected the idea immediately. There was no shame in a man drinking too much. In fact, Hunter and his peers considered it a masculine ritual to pour as much liquor down their throats as they could hold.

Puzzled, Lara stared at his averted profile. At first she had taken his mood for surliness, but on closer inspection he wore the expression of a man with an unpleasant duty to perform. Her curiosity grew until she finally gestured to the footman to leave, and he slipped from the room to allow them privacy.

Lara stood and wandered to the sideboard with an air of casual unconcern, while the silence thickened.

It occurred to her that Hunter might be discomfited by the memory of intimacy between them, the things he had said, the way he had touched her… A bloom of heat spread over her face at the recollection.