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When she finally reached his door, she drew a steadying breath and knocked.

“Enter,” came his deep voice.

Oh, Lord. Honoria quietly stepped into his chamber, the warm air instantly rushing at her cheeks and making them burn even more than they were before. The fireplace crackled happily, as if mocking her trepidation.

Lord Caldwell stood by the window, dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, his hair still damp but combed neatly. Honoria couldn’t help but see the outlines of his well-muscled body beneath the thin fabric. How had she never noticed that before? A part of her wished she didn’t notice it now.

The earl turned as she entered, his expression as unreadable as ever as he took in her appearance.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could speak, he asked, “Why are there dead flowers in my room?”

Honoria blinked, momentarily disoriented by the unexpected question. Her eyes darted to the vase of bright yellow daffodils on his dressing table.

“Dead flowers?” she echoed. “They are not dead. They are freshly cut.”

“Perhaps, but they are not getting their nutrients from the ground, so they are deprived of the opportunity to grow further. I concede they are not yet dead, but they will be in a few short days,” he countered, his tone matter of fact.

She frowned, stumbling over her words before finding her voice. “T-they are beautiful. They bring color into your dark bedroom.” And every other room in the house. “And once they wither, I will replace them with—”

Lord Caldwell stared at her as if she was talking about killing puppies. Without finishing her sentence, Honoria walked to the dressing table and lifted the vase into her arms.

“Anything else?” she asked, confused, but slightly relieved that this was the reason he’d called her into his room.

“No.” He shook his head, already turning back to the window.

Honoria cleared her throat, her emotions leveled out by the odd conversation that had nothing to do with her seeing him naked just a few minutes ago. Did she have to remind herself of that? “I’ve hired a live-in governess for Elise,” she said, before she lost her nerve again. “She is starting tomorrow morning unless you say otherwise.”

“Did Elise speak to her?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Did she like her?”

Honoria thought the question over. As much as one can like a person after a twenty-minute interaction. “It seems so, although it is hard to determine within a short interview. Mrs. Winters seems very knowledgeable and compassionate.”

“I suppose we can give Elise time to figure out whether she likes her. It usually becomes obvious within a month.”

A small smile touched her lips. She liked that he considered the children’s feelings when making decisions about their lives. And then a tiny dread found its way into her chest. It usually becomes obvious within a month. Was that the same time period he had given Honoria? Was she still being observed?

She nodded and turned to leave, the vase clutched to her chest.

“Hart,” he called as she reached the door.

Hartwell. She didn’t correct him, just tensed, worried this was when he would finally remark on her behavior by the stream. “Yes?”

“In your opinion, are the children settling well?”

Honoria paused by the doorway, millions of thoughts rushing through her mind. Did the earl not interact as much with the children? Or did he worry about them and wanted to have another’s thoughts? “In my opinion, they are settling as best as they can considering the situation.”

“What can we do to make it easier for them?”

Warmth bloomed within her chest. That little show of kindness didn’t help the physical infatuation she was already developing toward the earl. “Just give them time, my lord.”

The earl frowned at that. It was obvious he was hoping for a different answer. Which one? Honoria couldn’t guess.

“Thank you, Hart.” He turned away, dismissing her.

Hart. She could get used to that.