How old could he be? Ten perhaps?
“Good day, Mr. Percy. I bet you know London well. Would you mind if I accompanied you to see where your deliveries are?”
“Are you new here, my lord?”
Charles smiled at him. “No, but perhaps I can lend a hand. I shall be cooped up the rest of the day, and it would be nice to have a stroll first, assuming you were planning on walking.”
“I was, my lord.”
Charles looked up to see the other ladies watching their exchange. “You had best load us up,” he told them. “With Mr. Percy’s strong arms and my assistance, we shall have no trouble.”
Finally, Miss Charlotte gave him a watery version of her former smile, and he wished he knew her well enough to ask her about her troubles.
“WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF that?” Beatrice asked after the viscount and the boy had left.
“Surprising,” Charlotte said, watching them saunter down the sidewalk, “but nice. Lord Jeffcoat seems a bit serious. Being with a child might do him good, and I’m sure Edward has never walked beside a viscount before.”
When she turned around, her family, all three women, were staring at her. “What is it?”
“Did that young man go in the back room?” her mother asked.
Charlotte wondered at her mother’s question. “Of course, he did. You were back there with him.”
“No, dear girl, theotheryoung man. Did Lord Jeffcoat go into the back room? With you?”
“Mother! Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?”
“No reason,” Felicity said, but Beatrice grinned.
“Because our dear mother thinks any man who goes into the back room with you is destined to be your husband.” Bea laughed a moment. Then abruptly stopped. “Actually, she was right.” Turning to their mother, she asked, “How on earth could you have been right about that?”
Amity added, “Yes, Mother was right. So just take care with whom you go into the workroom.”
Charlotte gasped, raising her hand. “Oh, no! Too late!”
“What do you mean?” Amity asked, and Bea and her mother stared with interest.
“It’s fate. Irrevocable destiny. I was in the back with Edward Percy this morning.” She let them all think on that. “At least he’s off of leading strings.” Then she tried to laugh, but the rock where her heart used to be wouldn’t let her do more than shrug at her own jesting words.
“Silly girl,” said Bea, returning to the back to make toffee, followed by Amity.
“I like the young man,” her mother said.
“Now which one do you mean?” Charlotte asked, glancing around the shop to make sure everything was ready.
“Our new employee. I recall he was in here yesterday,” she said.
“Yes, something about him touched me, I confess. I’m glad you let him stay.”
“We certainly have plenty for him to do. Speaking of which, don’t you have marzipan to make?”
Someone tapped on the glass behind her. “And you might as well turn the sign around,” her mother added. “Maybe it won’t be such pandemonium in here if we let the customers start early.”
Her mother was wrong about that. As soon as Charlotte indicated they were open, a steady stream of people came in all morning. She fit in making marzipan bunnies and eggs with chocolate centers when there were lulls that her mother could handle by herself. At some point mid-morning, Edward returned, and when Charlotte glanced up, Lord Jeffcoat raised a hand in farewell outside the shop window but didn’t enter.
“How did it go?” she asked the boy.
“Well, miss. Everyone was ever so nice, although it could be because of the company I kept.”
