Page 65 of A Rogue to Ruin
John cracked a smiled. “I won’t spoil the specifics. Suffice it to say that all the help you’ve given is now being directed back at you.”
Oh God, what did that mean? And why was John clearly amused by it?
“I see.” Except he did not. But he planned to.
Rafe stalked to the back of the shop. There was a storeroom, an office, and a sitting area near the stairs that led up to the apartments upstairs. It was in the latter where he found Anne, along with three boys, two of whom still lived upstairs and one who had moved out nearly a year before. He’d taken lodgings in Cheapside where he’d become a tailor’s apprentice. The lad was quite skilled with a needle. Rafe had kept in contact with him and had even commissioned his shop to make some of his clothing for the Season.
“Daniel,” Rafe said, extending his hand to the sixteen-year-old with thick russet hair and sizing him up. “You’re looking taller. What brings you here today?”
“I, ah, had the afternoon off, sir. Charlie and Bart invited me to come by.”
Rafe looked around the room and noted a table and two chairs had been set in the center. The table was adorned with a nice but simple cloth, and a complement of mismatched dishes.
He looked at Anne, who was seated in one of the chairs. “Where’s Annie?”
“She went to fetch tea,” Anne replied.
The youngest of the boys, Charlie, dashed up the stairs while Bart went to hold the other chair. “Will you sit, sir? We have tea and cakes for you and Mrs. Dazzling.”
“Mrs. Dazzling.” Rafe blinked at Anne, who lifted a shoulder. “Mr. Entwhistle told you her name?” Rafe asked Bart, a lad of thirteen with dark blond hair and an eye that didn’t track normally, always straggling behind the other when his gaze fixed on a subject.
“Yes, sir,” Bart said. “Will you sit?” he repeated.
Rafe went and took the chair. “Thank you.” He leaned toward Anne. “I thought you were going to discuss the book with Annie.”
“I thought so too.” Anne lifted a shoulder, looking as bewildered as he felt. “I showed her how to curtsey, but then she insisted I sit.”
John’s words came back to him—they were trying to help him? How?
Annie came down the stairs bearing a teapot wrapped in a cloth. She set it on the table as Charlie followed her with a plate of biscuits.
“Thank you,” Anne said. “This looks lovely. Won’t you be joining us?” she asked the children.
They all shook their heads, with Daniel answering, “No. This is for you. In fact, we’ll leave you alone now.” He looked to the others, and they began to file up the stairs, starting with Charlie.
Anne turned in her chair, looking at Annie. “I thought we were going to discuss the book.”
“I, er, I didn’t finish it.”
“You said you did,” Anne said with a slight, confused frown.
Annie gave her a sheepish look. “I forgot.” She ran up the stairs, prohibiting further discussion.
Daniel was the last to go, but before he got out of sight, Rafe called out to him. “What are you really doing here? If it’s to see me, going upstairs is not the way to do that.”
Pink swathed Daniel’s cheeks. “I forgot something. I’ll be back down shortly.” He ran upstairs, leaving Rafe and Anne alone.
“Have you any idea what’s going on?” she asked.
“No.” He again thought of what John had said. Rafe took in the nicely set table, the biscuits, the tea. Could they be trying to play the role of matchmaker?
“Would you care for tea?” Anne asked, picking up the pot.
“Yes, please.”
She poured their tea and then added sugar to hers. “Sugar?” At his nod, she finished his cup.
He picked it up and took a tentative sip to gauge the warmth. Nicely hot, but perhaps the weakest tea he’d ever tasted.
