Tucking into his breakfast with gusto, Henry thought he’d never had a more pleasant morning. And he fully intended to enjoy the rest of his day, too. After putting his fork and knife together on his plate, he leaned back, enjoying another cup of coffee. He liked this family and wanted nothing more than to enjoy breakfast with Amity for the rest of his life and visit with the rest of the Rare-Foures whenever possible.
Out of the blue, Mr. Cole asked, “When did you say you were leaving, Your Grace?”
Henry practically heard the internal gasp of everyone else in the dining room. Mr. Cole, as a visitor, had no say in the matter, nor should he bring any attention to the timeframe of another guest’s comings and goings.
Henry paused to see how this delightful family would handle such impertinence.
The sharp middle sister, the one whom Henry had been told brooked no foolishness, was the first to respond. “Mr. Cole, I wonder that you worry over His Grace’s departure, unless you need a ride back to London. By the by, when did you sayyouwere leaving?”
Time for Henry to step in and secure his position as most gracious guest. “Now, Miss Beatrice. Please do not feel affronted on my behalf. If Mr. Cole desires to have your delightful family all to himself, perhaps I should be on my way.”
There, Henry thought, having tossed down the gauntlet, waiting for the lawyer to either come to his senses and grovel out an apology or continue along the path of pettiness and insecurity, however justified in this case.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mr. Cole flushed anembarrassed ruddy color. “I have been misunderstood. I merely wondered whether I should get a room at the local inn myself, as I had intended to stay and accompany you all back to London.” He looked nervously at Henry. “If His Grace wishes to stay until Kingdom Come, I am only too happy for him to have the guest room.”
Amity shot Henry a sideways glance.What was she thinking?Perhaps his chocolatier was regretting her agreement to marry the ninny.
“As long as no one minds, then,” Henry said, “I shall stay a day longer. The bed was so comfortable, and the room so charming. Between that and the fine dinner and delicious breakfast, I must give my sincere compliments to you, Mrs. Rare-Foure for such a well-run household. I wish my own estate near Canterbury was so smoothly managed.”
Amity’s mother nodded graciously.
“By the way,” Henry said, looking at Amity, “Chilham Castle, my country home, has a separate confectionery where they prepare the sweet treats and desserts when my family is in residence. Sadly, it is not for chocolate-making.” He paused before adding, “Yet.”
Miss Charlotte was the one who let out an ear-splitting whistle of delight. After they all cringed and regained their hearing, she said, “Oh, Your Grace! I had heard country homes had such, but you are the first to confirm it.”
“We have a small staff specially for dealing with anything sugar-based, including jellies, cream ice, sweet pastries, frozen mousses, custards, syrups, and naturally, all the patisseries. I suppose I should find out if anyone there is capable of whipping up some chocolate.”
He hoped this would duly impress Amity and that she might wish to see his home’s confectionery for herself. She definitely wore a thoughtful look upon her face, and Henry felt quite satisfied. Then, without considering his words, he turned to the lawyer.
“Where isyourcountry home located, Mr. Cole?”
The man’s eyes bugged out of his head, and, against Henry’s intentions, Amity rushed to her fiancé’s rescue.
“As Your Grace must know, most people who are not of your class, meaning those who haven’t inherited wealth and multiple estates, donothave country houses.”
