Page 33 of The Tantalizing of a Scandalous Rake

He set about readying the inn for the day, moving through the chores with practiced ease. He opened the shutters to let the faint trickle of morning light slip into the darkened taproom and paused to eye the empty room. Maybe his mother would be shocked enough to see him taking pleasure in such simple actions that it would be worth letting her know she had won.

Of course, he still had to persuade Rosie of such matters but after last night, surely it was obvious? He was no believer in fate, but they were meant to be together.

As he finished preparing the morning meal, Rosie hastened into the kitchen. Strands of hair were stuffed wildly into a ribbon and a red crease lingered on her cheek. She paused in the doorway to eye him setting out the toast.

“What is going on?”

“I think you should recognize breakfast, Rosie.”

She rubbed a hand over her face. “It is late. I am late. We need to—”

“Everything is done, do not fear.” He drew out a chair and motioned for her to sit then poured a coffee.

She eyed him for several moments then slowly eased onto the chair. “What are you—”

“Have some toast.” He set a piece on the plate in front of her.

She took the toast and stared at him as though he had sprouted an extra head while nibbling on the corner of it.

He chuckled, added a sausage to the plate and shoved coffee in front of her before joining her on the opposite side of the table. “I do not know about you, but I am famished.”

“Yes,” she said vaguely. She stilled, set down the toast and eyed the door to the taproom. “You know I really should—”

“It is done.”

“The ale is ready?”

He nodded.

“The oven is fired up?”

“Indeed.”

“The clean tankards and jugs?”

“All set out.”

“I shall have to purchase ale from Fred again today.” She wrinkled her nose. “Or see if Gerald has ceased watering down his ale.”

“The blaggard likely was the one to damage your barrels yesterday.”

“Yes, though it still seems strange to me he did not do more damage.”

Adam lifted a shoulder. “He is not the brightest of men. Besides, I have an answer to your ale problem.”

She blinked at him. “You do.”

He tugged a letter out of the inner pocket of his jacket. “I received this response from London only yesterday but I did not have time to...well...I was a little distracted.”

Her cheeks turned a delightful pink color as she took the letter from him and scanned it. “This man wants to open a brewery? Here?”

Adam nodded. “He has good success in London and I can vouch for the quality of his ale. You have the space and the means. If you were to go into business with Franklin, you would have your own ale and complete control over it.” He eyed her raised brow. “You would see increased profits. The numbers are there.” He nodded toward the letter.

Rosie lowered the letter slowly, her posture stiff. “I do see.”

“But you are not happy about it?”

“Adam, you could have at least discussed this with me.”

---