Temptation and Surrender by Stephanie Laurens Page A

and warehouse the company built at Axmouth to receive and store the goods, and from there distribute the tuns and kegs to the taverns and inns round about.”
    Brows rising, she looked ahead; he wasn’t surprised when she grasped the central point. “So creating the company was a stabilizing influence, but it’s subsequently grown beyond that.”
    More statement than question; she seemed to be turning the concept over in her mind—and approving.
    Well and good. The garden gate of the rectory appeared before them. Jonas opened it and stood back, waving Henry through in Emily’s wake before stepping through himself and relatching it.
    Em looked up at the rectory, still a little way above them. “What’s Filing like? How old is he?”
    “He’s in his early thirties—a sound man with an excellent education. We think ourselves lucky to have him. He more or less inherited the living, and found he liked the village and so he’s stayed.” Tallent directed his answer more to Henry than her; Henry nodded, grateful for the information. Tallent eyed her brother curiously, no doubt speculating on what business she with Henry in tow might have with the curate, but he said nothing more—asked no leading questions.
    Of course, as he was following them up the steps to the rectory porch, he was going to get answers soon enough.
    At her nod, Henry tugged the bellpull.
    The door opened with an alacrity that suggested the man holding it had seen them climbing to his porch.
    Em found herself looking into kindly blue eyes set in a pleasant, pale, aesthetic face. Filing—she assumed it was he—stood a little over average height, not as tall as Tallent at her back, and was somewhat slighter. His hair was a very light brown; both hair and attire—a gray coat and plain waistcoat over tan breeches—appeared fastidiously neat, their style conservative as befitted a man of the cloth.
    “A sound man,” Tallent had said; Em could see no reason to question that assessment.
    She nodded politely. “Good morning. Mr. Filing, I presume?”
    When he inclined his head in a half bow, regarding them all with an expectant air, she continued, “I am Miss Beauregard.” With one hand, she waved vaguely over her shoulder—encompassing both Tallent and the inn below. “I’ve taken the position of innkeeper at the Red Bells, and wondered if I might talk to you about tutoring for my brother, Henry.” Another wave indicated Henry beside her.
    Filing smiled. “Miss Beauregard.” He looked at Henry and offered his hand. “Henry.”
    After shaking hands, Filing returned his gaze to her. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Beauregard. Please come in, and we can discuss your brother’s requirements.”
    He stood back to let her and Henry enter; as she moved forward into what appeared to be the rectory’s sitting room, Filing looked at the gentleman behind her. “Jonas. Thank you for coming.”
    “Joshua.” Clasping Filing’s hand, Tallent stepped over the threshold.
    When Em turned around, he was looking at her.
    He smiled at her, but spoke to Filing. “I’m in no hurry, so by all means deal with Miss Beauregard first. I know she has a lot on her plate.”
    Something she could hardly deny, especially not to him. Em felt her eyes narrow fractionally as they rested on Tallent’s too-handsome face, but arranging tutoring for Henry was hardly a highly confidential matter, and Tallent already knew why they were there.
    Rather frostily, she inclined her head. “Thank you, Mr. Tallent.” Giving her attention to Filing, fixing it there, she launched into a description of Henry’s studies to date and what they hoped to achieve over the next several years.
    Her opinion of Filing escalated significantly when, after taking in all she said, he turned to Henry and questioned him directly about his likes, dislikes, and aspirations.
    Initially reserved, Henry quickly lost his diffidence; silently observing, listening to Filing solicit