The Governess Club: Louisa by Ellie Macdonald

think,” he said. “I don’t think my stomach has been this happy since I bought the inn.”
    Louisa smiled at him and sat back down at the desk. “Yes, she is working out fine.”
    Mr. Taylor pointed to the door. “Well, I am going to help with the delivery.” He turned and moved to the door.
    “Mr. Taylor,” she called out, stopping him. When he looked over his shoulder, she said, “About the ale . . .”
    “Yes?” He sounded wary.
    “I think the brewer is cheating you. Us, I mean.”
    “How so?”
    She indicated a pile of receipts. “Based on what we are paying, the quality does not appear to match.”
    “What do you know of ale?”
    His comment held a note of teasing, but she bristled at it still. “Enough to know when it tastes good or not. I am surprised the men don’t complain about that horse—”
    He held up his hand. “I will look into it.”
    Louisa nodded, grateful he had saved her from another less than ladylike display. When he disappeared from the doorway, she sat back in the chair and wondered why she was concerned about appearing a lady for him. It had been years since she thought of herself as such and to have the idea resurrect itself now was unsettling.
    L ouisa fell into bed, willing to lose the battle against exhaustion. Oh, but it was a good exhaustion. Two weeks had passed since she and Mr. Taylor began their partnership and the improvements were already noticeable. The rooms were clean with new linens on their way; the carpenters had repaired all the pub furniture and were now making a new large hidden closet on the sleeping floor to store linens and cleaning supplies so the maids would not have to fetch these things from the ground floor; the new cook, Maisie, was proving to be worth the price it took to lure her away from the large house; and the new maids were settling in decently well.
    She and Giant Johnny had not fought since that first time; disagreed, yes, but no outright fights or arguments. One that she was glad to have won was in regard to the services the maids were to provide. Insistent upon the inn not being labeled a brothel, Louisa had convinced him that any such services would be at the maid’s own discretion and preference, and not promoted by the inn. Even that had been a compromise, as he had pointed out that the possibility would draw male customers. After their decision, she had spoken with both Rose and Fanny individually, emphasizing the matter of their choice and that they would have the protection of the inn should they refuse such attention at any time. Giant Johnny had not been privy to that aspect of their agreement, but she felt confident he would agree if he knew.
    But her days were long. Not as physically demanding as when she was working as a maid, but more required her attention, from the accounts to menus to supplies to training and directing employees. It seemed that from the moment she left her room, people were demanding decisions from her.
    It was lovely, having people look to her for leadership and seeing the inn evolve under her guidance. Under their guidance.
    She could not in good conscience deny the efforts John Taylor was contributing to the inn. Now that he was free of the paper encumbrances of management, he was flourishing even more in regard to customer satisfaction. He had consented to putting a sign in the window stating that the Beefy Buzzard was home to the Five Hit Wonder and already business had increased. They even had their first overnight guest this evening, a well-heeled gentleman traveling to London. The gentleman had appeared to enjoy his evening in the pub, listening to Giant Johnny regale them with a story of one of his early victories, blow by blow. Not that she would admit it to him, but she had enjoyed watching him tell the tale, if not the tale itself. He had become so animated, using his fists to punch the air in embellishment. A part of her had been mesmerized, rooted to the spot where she could watch him in his