“Bea,” Amity pleaded.
“You said you’d kissed the Duke of Pelham.”
“What?” Charlotte exclaimed. “How did I not know this?”
Amity glared at Beatrice. “Because it was not necessary. It was one kiss and that was it. What possible bearing can it have on my engagement to Mr. Cole?”
“When did it happen? And where?” Charlotte asked. “Did you like it? Did he ask you first? Did he taste good?” Then she gasped. “Did he force you?”
All this came out in such a rush, Amity could but shake her head. “Do you see what you’ve done?” she asked her middle sister.
“All good questions,” Beatrice said. “Why don’t you answer her before telling us why you’ve settled for Mr. Cole.”
“Settled? That’s unkind. Did you say that because he is a commoner and not a nobleman? Or because he doesn’t have a fancy house in Mayfair?”
“Neither,” Beatrice snapped. “I said it because your eyes don’t light up the way they do when you mention the duke. Because you’ve kissed both men but only dream about one. Am I right?”
“Stop it,” Amity said. “What is the point of wanting something I cannot have? Do you really suggest I become the spinster you joked about, rather than enjoy a full life with Mr. Cole? If that’s the case, I don’t think you love me as much as I love you.”
Beatrice paled, looking shocked. “That’s a terrible thing to say. I want you to be truly happy.”
“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 ofif-onlyfor 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 notwantto make chocolate?” Felicity Rare-Foure demanded, looking not at her future son-in-law but at her eldest daughter.
“Well, Mother, of course Iwantto 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 ofyourfamily, and once married, Miss Rare-Foure should work for the good ofours.”
