Page 71 of Dearest Beast
“After I returned to your guest chamber last night, I was thinking…” Those were always dangerous words. “I know it is not my place given the limited nature of our intimacy, but I—you need to tell them,” she whispered, her voice grim.
“Tell who and what?” he asked, his mind searching for a possible meaning regarding her words. Other than the obvious. Which was not possible unless the woman had gone completely mad.
“The children. About Miss Teres,” she hissed.
Roger frowned. Not the topic he’d been expecting. Not at all. Especially as it was most certainly well beyond the boundaries they’d erected—that the woman seemed so keen to maintain.
“Beg pardon?” he asked.
“That they shall have a stepmother in the next few weeks.” She huffed, as if his confusion was unwarranted. “They need to know,” she insisted.
“Which they shall,” he told her. Obviously. “Once matters are settled.” Still the most prudent course of action.
“That’s a mistake,” the woman returned.
He stared at her. “Beg pardon?” he repeated.
Miss Adler pursed her lips. “Even happy change can be difficult,especially if it’s not in one’s control,” she said rather slowly. “Matters generally go a great deal more smoothly if the possibilities are discussed beforehand.”
Irritation flared in him. How dare she, a woman with no children of her own, imply that he was mismanaging his own?
Did she think so poorly of him?
Everything within him wanted to strike back at her with a smart quip.
Even if it was beneath him.
And unfair to her. She might still think poorly of him, but he did not think poorly of her. Not in the slightest. Not because he was blinded by their physical relationship. No, he genuinely enjoyed her company, and while she might not always be correct, no one could accuse the woman of being foolish. Which made the matter more upsetting, compelling him to listen instead of react.
“And you’ve come to this conclusion, how?” he asked, keeping his voice even.
“From years of caring for people on the cusp of dramatic change that also includes risk to their person,” she replied.
“That’s not even remotely similar,” he pointed out as gently as possible.
“Not on the surface,” she said after a beat taking an audible breath. “Just consider the matter,” she told him, her voice soft.
And that made Roger pause. In her mind, this was important enough for her to attempt managing him to get her point across.
He stared at her another moment, then nodded. “All right,” he agreed.
And he was rewarded with a small smile, thankfully fortifying him for what came next.
The trouble started prior to their first bites of food, when he’d asked his son to say the blessing out loud instead of in their heads as they did when gentiles were present.
Michael opened his mouth but was interrupted by his sister.
“He doesn’t know it,” Fannie declared, sticking her small nose in the air.
“I do so,” his son insisted, balling his fists.
His daughter made a noise, but Roger held up at hand to halt the brewing argument.
“Excellent.” He turned to Michael. “You may begin,” he told him.
Glancing up at him with his large dark eyes, his son took an audible breath. “Baru atah Adonai elohainu meleh ha’olum, hamotzi lechem in ha’aretz,” the child recited rather quickly before grabbing a bun from the center of the table.
“It’s ‘Baruch,’ ” Fannie corrected, emphasizing the “chet” at the end of the word. “And ‘min,’ not ‘in.’ ” She raised her little chin.
