“You’ve signed a lease,” her sister repeated, and Charlotte wished Amity would stop doing that.
“I don’t think it’s an optimal time,” the duke pointed out. “I believe you said your business was down already.”
Amity looked alarmed, but Charlotte didn’t want her sister getting the least bit upset.
“As I said, another article, favorable this time, can bring it back up again, and all the problems that the reporter encountered have been solved. Except for being a little short-staffed.”
“Your staff is rather short,” Lord Jeffcoat pointed out. They all looked at him. Charlotte believed it was the first jest she’d ever heard him speak. While she appreciated the attempt at levity, her sister still looked concerned.
“Edward may be short, but he does the work of a full-grown man, and he’s picked up on making confectionery like a duck takes to water.”
“But ... but ... what will we do with the upstairs?” Amity asked. “How many more chocolates and trays of toffee and marzipan pears will we need? And what happened to the pillow maker.”
“Her son took her away,” Charlotte said. “I thought he was harsh at first, but he was a good man looking after his mother. Just as any of us would do. The duke for the dowager, us for our mother, and,” she paused and looked at Lord Jeffcoat, who was frowning. The duke shook his head. She continued, “And so we have all that room to create a café.”
“A café!” Amity exclaimed.
“Will there be coffee?” the duke asked, a well-known lover of the rich brew.
“Yes, naturally,” Charlotte said, “and our confectionery and pots of chocolate served just the way Amity likes and tea.” She decided to keep talking until someone said what a good idea it was. “I was thinking it would be lovely to hire apâtissier, but he or she would need a place to work. There is a kit and cargo worth of space upstairs, but as Lord Jeffcoat reminded me, we shall need plumbing and an oven if we are to have a kitchen. A pity the pillow woman never put one in. All she had was the tiniest coal stove for making her tea.”
“In a pinch, that small stove is all you need to make coffee,” the duke mused. Then he turned to his friend. “Hold on. Jeffcoat, you knew about this?”
The viscount nodded. “It was not my news to tell, Pelham, so don’t become huffish with me. You’re like a brother to me, but a woman’s secrets are her own to disclose, or not.”
Charlotte liked him all the more for saying that.
“Plumbing and an oven,” Amity echoed. “And Mother is pleased with all this?”
Charlotte pursed her lips.
“Oh,” Amity said. “I thought it was only me who didn’t know.”
Shaking her head, Charlotte explained, “Beatrice doesn’t know either, because she left for Scotland and the lease had to be signed immediately. Elsewise, our landlord might have put any type of business above our heads.”
“But now sales are down,” Amity said.
“That won’t last. And we have money in savings to create a beautiful space upstairs.”
“You and young Mr. Percy won’t be able to handle all that.”
“That’s true. We will have to hire more employees. At least one. A server to take the orders to the tables.”
“Look at her,” the viscount said. “Miss Rare-Foure, you have grown radiant with excitement.”
She put her hands to her cheeks. “I admit, I find the challenge of creating a new experience for our customers at Rare Confectionery to be beyond thrilling. Maybe we’ll even have ices like—”
“Gunter’s,” Amity filled in. “You always loved that place. We all did, but you the most.” Then she tilted her head. “But do you know anything about hiring a server?”
“No,” Charlotte said, “nor a builder.” She made a decision to put her sister’s mind at ease, even though, until that second, she hadn’t made her mind up about Mr. Tufts. “But I managed it. We now have a builder with references who gave us a good price, and he can start immediately. I think he will treat us well because he is related to Edward.”
As she’d hoped, that information caused both the duke and Amity to relax. After all, they all had acknowledged she’d done well to hire the boy. There was no need to mention she’d been unable to speak with anyone whom Mr. Tufts had worked for. She’d seen some impressive residences but had no idea what work he had done at any of them. She could hardly knock on doors — yet, in fact, she had done that at one townhouse, and the housekeeper said she thought she recognized the builder’s name. The woman had been unable to say for sure, nor did she know the scope of the work.
Every address she’d had time to investigate was tidy and well-kept. Any work he’d done must have been good if it had been accepted by those people. Then she’d stopped in at a builder’s office whose address was in an advertisement in the newspaper. His clerk had been rude as if he couldn’t believe Charlotte was in a position to hire anyone. When she’d insisted on being given a price for a staircase, he’d told her an exorbitant sum and that nothing could be done for a month.
Edward’s uncle had suddenly seemed like the best choice, all things considered. Moreover, Charlotte was pleased to be able to tell Amity she had things well in hand.
“I think we should toast to Miss Rare-Foure for what she’s accomplished,” Charles said.
