“What is it, sir? Are you hurt?” He was lying back against his pillows, looking languidly handsome as ever, but his face wore a scowl. “No, but I bloody well will be if I can’t get you to answer the bell. I’ve been ringing for the last forty minutes.” “I’m sorry. I’ve been seeing the boys off to school. There was an urgent crisis involving Roy’s spelling book.” “Are you free now?” he demanded. He flicked disconsolately at his bed sheets, and began to push them aside. He wore only a white cotton undershirt and a pair of stripy pajama trousers. “Yes, I am.” Katie knew she should look away as his lordship maneuvered himself to the edge of the bed, hauling first one leg and then the other with his hands until he was sitting on the edge of the mattress. He had long, slim legs, obviously wasted from six months lack of use. The pajama trousers were loose and baggy on him. He stopped. He glanced up at her with reluctance and uncertainty in his blue eyes. A hint of color crept across the lean angles of his face.
