Summer's Distant Heart - Laura Landon Page 0,28

my intentions are both principled and honorable.”

“Very well,” she answered. “But be warned. It shall go badly for anyone who causes her harm or distress.”

“Then I have no cause to fear you, my lady. I have no intention of hurting her.” Hunter rose. “Now, if you will excuse me, I will meet your nephew for breakfast to discuss what needs to be done should my father’s threat become imminent.”

Hunter excused himself, then left Lady Collinson.

A smile crossed his face as he descended the stairs. The dowager Viscountess Collinson was as formidable a threat as his father. He was thankful she was on his side instead of working against him.

Chapter 9

Lia had been desperate for a change of scenery after several days in bed, and when the doctor gave permission for her to spend several hours in the solarium, she was thrilled. Restricted to reclining on the chaise as she was, her favorite distraction was the few hours Frannie brought little George to see her each day. She played with him and talked to him to give Frannie a break, yet the maid didn’t seem to mind being with George all day long. She seemed as attached to him as Lia was.

Lia had held the babe until he fell asleep and was about to call Frannie to put him in his cradle when footsteps sounded on the cool tile. Lia looked up as Hunter Montclaire neared the chaise.

With each step he seemed to survey her wellbeing and judge it acceptable, which made her oddly happy. She took delight in the hint of a smile that tipped the corner of his mouth. His handsome good looks had not ceased to affect her, and today there was such an ease about his gait and posture that he quite took her breath away. She’d never met such a fine specimen of male perfection. Rarely had she even seen a fellow so perfectly formed, with such broad muscular shoulders and thighs. Rarely had her eyes had the opportunity to linger on a face so strong and perfectly chiseled. Even though she tried not to let him affect her, just looking at him stole her breath.

“May I join you?”

“Of course.” She pointed to the chair nearest the chaise.

“I see he’s asleep,” he said, lowering his gaze to where little George lay peacefully tucked beside her.

“Yes, I was just about to call Frannie to put him down for his nap when the little rascal nodded right off.”

“Allow me.”

Hunter Montclaire rose to tug at the bell pull, and moments later a footman appeared. “Send Frannie to us, if you would please,” he said.

He turned to retrieve the infant’s rattle that had fallen to the floor and Lia could not help but reward him with a smile. Most men would have merely kicked it away. “Thank you, my lord,” she said.

“Hunt,” he corrected, turning to her with his eyebrow cocked in a winsome way. “You promised to call me Hunt.”

She blushed. It was true. She had promised. But each time her tongue sought to form the familiar name, such amorous feelings cascaded across her mind that she found herself blushing furiously.

With great effort, Lia swallowed her hesitation. “Yes. Hunt. Thank you.” She found it quite exhilarating to speak his name, and her smile broadened further at the small joy.

“Ah,” Frannie said as she scurried into the solarium. “You tuckered the lad out, my lady. I’ll see him to his cradle. Hopefully he’ll sleep for a long while.”

“Yes, Frannie.”

The nursemaid picked George up and carried him from the room.

“How do you feel?” Hunter asked when they were alone.

“I’m much better. Completely recovered, I must say.”

“Are you?” he asked with a questioning voice and inquisitive look.

“Yes. Truly, I am. And I daresay it’s none too soon, if you intend to keep up your witty midnight repartee.” She grinned when he flinched dramatically.

“Alas, I fear it is I who cannot keep pace, my lady. You are far too quick-witted for me.”

Their laughter echoed happily in the high-ceilinged room, a welcome sound that almost seemed to startle them both.

The Earl of Atherton stretched his muscular legs out before him and relaxed against the back of his chair. “I’ve been wondering, my lady. That is…Lia. Was your sister’s coloring the same as yours?” he asked.

Lia couldn’t stop the smile from lifting the corners of her mouth. “Goodness, no. She was as light as I am dark. The babe is a replica of his mother, with hair of gold and eyes as blue as the