the previous evening after he had behaved in such ungentlemanly fashion. He’d climbed into his wife’s bed late into the night, long after she’d fallen asleep. Alys was, thankfully, not a light sleeper, so his tossing and turning had not seemed to trouble her. When he woke, she was already out of bed. He suspected she still kept bakers’ hours and it would take time for her to be able to stay awake for social events and then sleep later in the morning. Since farmers’ hours were not so different than bakers’ hours, it wouldn’t be a problem in the country. No doubt she had already ordered an earlier breakfast. When he arrived downstairs after giving his valet orders, he discovered the sideboard in the dining room held the usual bacon and eggs and rack of toast, but nothing whatsoever in the bun family. He bit back a savage curse and dumped so much sugar into his tea that the brew was fouled beyond his ability to drink it.
