HENRY DESCENDED FROM his carriage and bounded across the pavement, his fingers on the door handle before he saw the notice on the shop window. The door did not open as usual with the welcoming tinkle of the bell. Looking through the window, he saw no pretty Rare-Foure sisters inside to greet him.
Drawing back, he read the message written in a no-nonsense script and hanging by a blue ribbon facing outward, against the glass:
Thank you for your custom. We are going on a brief holiday.
The remainder of our confections are for sale next door at Asprey’s.
Please excuse any inconvenience.
Frowning, he felt a twist in his gut accompanying the suspicion this was not a planned trip. Moreover, the unexpected shop closing didn’t bode well for the Rare-Foures’ bank account. He reread the message and hurried next door to the jewelry store, not to buy the remaining chocolates but to find out if the clerk at Asprey’s knew anything more.
Chapter Nineteen
Coggeshall, Essex County
Amity snapped closed Miss Eliza Leslie’s Lady’s New-Receipt Book. She’d been reading the American woman’s recipe for chocolate cake over and over without taking in a word of it. Despite it being a favorite of their cook’s and indubitably filled with good sense, the book could not hold her attention. It had been five days since the disaster at the duke’s home, and still, Amity could vividly recall Lady Madeleine’s harsh words and the duke’s look of embarrassment and disappointment.
Standing, she left the sunny window seat and decided to take a walk outside. Luckily, the weather was holding fine after a rainy spell over the prior two days. The sunshine and a long walk would undoubtedly improve her mood.
Thus, five minutes later, draped in her lightweight plum-colored cloak, she was strolling toward the River Blackwater, keeping her mind clear of thoughts of the nobility and London as much as possible. The grouse were rustling in the long grasses. Her father was not a hunter, nor did anyone else use their land, so they had an abundance of birds on the property, as well as foxes and deer.
How different would her father’s life be if he had sons? She’d once overheard him tell their mother how glad he was to have daughters for he recalled his own upbringing where he and his brothers were little terrors — loud, troublesome, and dirty.
She frowned now recalling his words. She and her sisters were not any of those things, except for Charlotte’s occasional loud outbursts. Yet Amity’s problems with the bon ton could be considered troublesome at the very least. And just like that, she was thinking about the entire mess again. Rats!
“Miss Rare-Foure,” came a male voice, startling her out of her thoughts. Whirling around, she saw Jeremy walking swiftly toward her. Her heart lifted like a sparrow on a gentle breeze.
She’d had no response from him to her letter and thought perhaps he’d washed his hands of her. Instead, he greeted her warmly, doffed his hat and replaced it, and as naturally as if they’d never been apart, tucked her arm under his. They continued together along the path. He’d visited her family’s country house once before and seemed quite at home, directing their steps toward the small bridge over one tiny tributary of the river that ran next to their land. The bridge led to a modest-sized island, and on it a small gazebo, a romantic setting that had been there since Amity was born.
“It was good of you to come,” she said and meant it.
“I should have answered your letter sooner. I had some thinking to do.”
Understandably so. Amity waited for his decision, knowing it was a good sign he had come all the way to Coggeshall.
Then he added, “Your name and the shop were in the papers for a few days.”
“How bad was it?” she asked.
He glanced sideways. “Didn’t you read them?”
She shook her head and stepped into the small structure in which a few birds had made their nests in the rafters. “Not a word. I lived it, remember?”
He didn’t smile. “They were not kind, but it seems you were in direct opposition to the beloved Lady Madeleine Brayson.”
“Soon to be the even more beloved Duchess of Pelham,” Amity added.
“Maybe,” Jeremy said, looking around, “but that wasn’t mentioned.” He rested a foot on the bench, and she stood on the other side of the gazebo, watching the river.
After a moment, he asked, “What are the plans for Rare Confectionery?”
The way he asked her sent a shock sizzling down her spine, and she whirled around. “What do you mean?”
“Will it reopen?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice calm, but the idea that their wonderful, beloved shop might close forever frightened her. “We are only here for another couple of weeks, and then we’ll go back.”
“I see.”
She took a step toward him. “Jeremy, is there something else?”
“Mostly the papers talked about you, more than the confectionery. I cannot help but wonder if you were no longer the chocolatier, might it be better for your family and for Rare Confectionery. One of your sisters could make the chocolates, or perhaps your mother.”
She gaped in dismay before closing her mouth so she wouldn’t appear as a dying fish. He spoke as if anyone could do what she did. She could no more sculpt a marzipan pig than fly, nor could she keep the treacle toffee from burning or separating.
“Why would you say that?”
He shrugged. “I merely thought if you distanced yourself, and let people think of Rare Confectionery without you, any damage that has been done to the shop’s reputation would fade.”
How badly had the newspapers treated her? She almost wanted to peek. Almost.
“Don’t look so stricken,” Jeremy said, coming toward her. “There is more to life than the back room of that shop. Which brings me to the reason I came. When you told me a couple weeks ago of your doubts regarding our future, I was hurt. Particularly as we had kissed directly prior. I thought you might have been testing me.”
She had very much wanted that kiss to be like the duke’s. It hadn’t been. Neither was it repulsive or even unpleasant. It simply wasn’t the same.
“In retrospect, I have to say I admire you for being cautious,” he continued. Then he took both her hands in his. “I hope you have had a chance to think more about whether we suit. I believe by your sending me that letter, you were inviting my return into your life. Was I correct?”
Amity nodded. That had been her intent. She needed to put aside any silly hopes she’d been nurturing over ... anyone else. “Yes, if you are amenable to such. I am glad you came, Jeremy.”
The familiar sight of him, so unexpected, had buoyed her spirits — at least, until he’d started talking of her not making chocolate.
He smiled at her words. Would he kiss her again?
“I have done a great deal of thinking as well,” he added. “And my life is emptier without you. I think you will make an excellent solicitor’s wife. Also, I believe you will be happy and fulfilled with the duties of being my wife and, hopefully someday, a mother whether or not you continue to make chocolates.”
Amity didn’t like the tack of his conversation. “I love making chocolate and spending my days with my mother and sisters.”