“I will be.” Amity took Beatrice’s hands. “Mr. Cole and I do suit one another, and he loves me.” Then she paused. Jeremy had not actually said he did, but she assumed he wouldn’t have asked her to marry him if he did not.
Releasing one of Beatrice’s hands, Amity opened her other arm wide for Charlotte to step into the sisterly circle.
“I won’t have to worry about what I call my husband or what his friends think of me or whether I am fit for their company.”
Charlotte shook her head. “It was merely a terrible mistake,” she began.
“That’s just the thing,” Amity protested. “The mistake wasn’t so terrible, was it? Calling a man by ‘lord’ instead of ‘grace’? Yet Lady Madeleine carried on so, and in public, with one mean-spirited end in mind — to humiliate me although I couldn’t possibly be any threat to her. She made it seem as if I had mortally wounded one of her own.”
Beatrice made a sound of disgust. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to tell her off.”
Amity chuckled. “I didn’t see it, but I know our Charlotte did that quite well.”
Their youngest sister beamed at them both. “I did,” she confirmed.
“Think how difficult such a life would be for someone of our class to be thrust into it unprepared,” Amity reminded them. “Not that I even had that option. It was not as if I had a choice between the Duke of Pelham or Mr. Cole.”
They all nodded sagely. “Besides,” Amity reminded them, “the duke is now officially engaged to the person most suited to him.”
Still, she allowed herself a little wisp of if-only for the man who had completely charmed her — and stirred her emotions. Somewhat painfully, Henry Westbrook, Duke of Pelham had tugged at her heartstrings, even if he hadn’t intended to do so.
“Most importantly, as a duchess, I would not be able to make chocolates anymore. And I simply must do this one thing for nothing else gives me more pleasure than being with the two of you and crafting confectionery.” No need to mention how Jeremy had mentioned opening her own store, for she had no intention of doing so. “So please, stop your reticence and don’t send my fiancé sideways glances. He will be family soon, and I will have a happy life.”
Unfortunately, the very next day, over a lunch of cold pork, bread and butter, and large helpings of bubble and squeak, Jeremy suddenly took it upon himself to announce how Amity would, in all likelihood, give up making chocolate.
Her father frowned and sent her a searching look. Bless his heart, she thought. He wanted only to know if it were her decision. However, all traces of happiness vanished from her mother’s and her sisters’ countenances.
“Why on earth would Amity not want to make chocolate?” Felicity Rare-Foure demanded, looking not at her future son-in-law but at her eldest daughter.
“Well, Mother, of course I want to continue. Mr. Cole means that my wifely duties, and later my maternal ones, might occasionally get in the way.”
“I have both, have I not?” her mother reminded her. “Nevertheless, I continued to run the store and make confectionery until you three were old enough to take over.”
Amity frowned. That was true. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She looked to Jeremy for an answer.
“With all due respect, Mrs. Rare-Foure,” he began, “you were working for the good of your family, and once married, Miss Rare-Foure should work for the good of ours.”
Amity’s father coughed politely to break the tension as his wife began to sputter. Her sisters were no help, staring angrily at Mr. Cole. She should have spoken to her family first and warned them about his strong views.
“We will all be one family,” her mother protested.
“Except she ought to enrich the Coles, not the Rare-Foures.” He stated this as he reached for a slice of apple cobbler.
This made Armand Foure sit up. “I say, will she need to work? Do you foresee being in such circumstances?”
Jeremy had the grace to flush slightly. “No, sir. I am sure we shall live well on my income. All the same, if Amity wants to make chocolates to bring in extra money, I would expect her to make them under her new name.”
Amity feared for her mother’s health when she went quite red in the face.
“Now, see here,” Felicity began, but Amity’s father patted his wife’s hand.
“Do not trouble yourself, my love. Perhaps an easier way would be to give Amity and her new husband a share in the shop.”
Her mother didn’t look the least bit thrilled, but she also did not dismiss the notion out of hand. And while Amity wasn’t keen on the idea of her parents giving away ownership of Rare Confectionery, not even to her new husband, if her father arranged it so she could continue to work with her sisters, she wouldn’t protest.
To her amazement, Jeremy shook his head. “That’s very generous of you, but she would still be thought of as a Rare-Foure and not a Cole.”
“Is that so terrible?” Amity asked, speaking for the first time, since it was her future they were discussing.
Jeremy stared at her, looking slightly wounded, and she reminded herself this was the man with whom she would spend her life, give over her well-being, and to whom, on her wedding, she would agree day to obey.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “When I am your wife, I do want to be Mrs. Cole first and foremost.” But she was positive she could convince him to allow her to make chocolate at Rare Confectionery.
He beamed at her, and she remembered how amenable he had always been.
“All I’m saying,” Jeremy continued, “is I think Amity should get used to her duties as a wife before she commits to continuing to go to the shop daily. She may find there are other things she prefers to do, for that matter, rather than make chocolates.”
There was silence. Amity shook her head slightly. Jeremy did not understand their passion for confectionery, but he would learn.
“Above all, we want you to be happy,” her mother said to her, and they exchanged a smile.
Amity decided to let her future husband know her thoughts right away. “I believe I shall only be happy if I continue to make confections with my family.”
Jeremy looked thoughtful and nodded. “After a brief break while we become used to our married life, you must continue to make chocolate, for your happiness will be my continual goal for the remainder of our lives.”
Bless his heart! She had known he would be a sweet and understanding husband.
“Perhaps the shop can be renamed,” he suggested, “as Rare & Cole Confectionery.”
“Mr. Cole!” Amity protested, thinking he was taking advantage of her parents’ kindness, but to her amazement, her father smiled.
“This young man will go far, I warrant.”
And with that statement, everyone’s feathers were soothed, and they finished eating in a more jovial atmosphere.
THE RAIN WAS ENDLESS, and Henry was glad of a well-constructed carriage. Even so, the dampness seeped in. His coachman, despite an awning to keep him protected, also needed his India rubber-cloth rain slicker.
Having left the city early, it was mid-afternoon when he arrived at Coggeshall and was directed toward the hamlet where the Rare-Foures had a house. His horses pulled his coach onto a tidy piece of land by the River Blackwater where a two-story brick home rose up to greet him.