“Miss Rare-Foure,” the teacher prompted again.
Even if she hadn’t been on the brink of tears to match Viola’s, she had no intention of displaying herself in the center of the art students. Her mother would never forgive such vulgarity.
“No, thank you,” she’d said. “I am not staying.”
The teacher sighed, and asked another female student on the other side of the room, and all the focus turned away.
“Areyoustaying?” she’d asked Viola.
“No, I came only to tell you,” she said, gesturing with her hands to show that she had no supplies with her. “When you weren’t here on time, I thought perhaps you had gone with him and I’d been mistaken about the model.”
Charlotte shuddered again at the notion. She would never do something so rash!
As she put the key in the lock of Rare Confectionery, Charlotte’s heart ached at the thought of Lionel and his blonde model taking the train from Charing Cross station and then the ferry across the Channel to start a new life. Viola said he’d left their parents a note stating he wanted to practice his art amongst the old masters and ancient ruins of Europe.
Pushing open the door, she stepped inside and instantly the walls closed around her, leaving her feeling trapped and ... abandoned. Lionel could have simply gone to one of their London museums and set up his easel among their grand collections of Dutch and Flemish oils, not to mention the Elgin marbles for inspiration.
She would never see him again!That terrible thought stopped her in the middle of the wooden floor, tears pricking her eyes as they’d done all night.How would she bear the loss of him and his kisses?She thought of Viola’s momentary concern that Charlotte had been the one to go with him.
Despite hearing the bell tinkle behind her, lost in a fanciful game ofwhat-if, she didn’t turn. Deep down in her bones, Charlotte knew she never would have done such a selfish thing to her family. Not even for Lionel.
“Miss, excuse me, miss?”
“We’re not open yet,” she said, her voice choked with emotion.
“I know, miss. You said to come back.”
All at once, she remembered — Edward Percy. Taking a deep breath, collecting herself, she turned to face the boy who’d touched her heart. In that instant, seeing him, hat-in-hand, wearing the same clothes as the day before, with his hair combed under his worn cap, his face obviously scrubbed clean, she recalled life was far bigger than her obsession with Lionel Evans.
“Hello, Edward,” she began, trying to put her thoughts in order. “You are certainly prompt.”
“Yes, miss. I wouldn’t take lightly the offer of work.”
Ah, yes. Her offer of a job. After the heartbreaking debacle at the academy, Charlotte had gone home and directly up to her room. She hadn’t asked her mother’s permission about employing young Edward. Indeed, she’d forgotten all about him. However, it was decidedly Felicity’s shop, not hers nor her sisters’ and not even their father’s. What her mother said was law at Rare Confectionery, and it had always been that way.
But things had been changing, and quickly. Her mother had left the running of the shop to her grown daughters for the past few years, coming in for a few hours as it suited her. Amity wasn’t there as often since becoming — of all incredible things — a duchess in February of the prior year. And Beatrice, who had married Mr. Carson just last autumn, sometimes kept shorter hours. Only Charlotte’s role had remained the same.
The truth of the night’s heartbreak crashed in upon her once more. To think, she had brought it upon herself — believing he cared for her when she hadn’t meant a thing to him. It had been all on her side, in her own head. Through the entire Season the year before, she hadn’t truly considered anyone with whom she’d met and danced, because Lionel had taken up all the space in her heart and her mind. All for naught. Just wishful thinking.
And then he’d started to kiss her...
Not only that, ever since The Langham, London’s most opulent hotel, had contracted with them the previous summer to provide all their confectionery, others had taken notice. Rare Confectionery now had weekly deliveries to The Grosvenor Hotel at Victoria Station and The Great-Western Hotel at Paddington, as well as at The Albion, a restaurant in Covent Garden, and the Gaiety Restaurant on the Strand.
Charlotte, her mother, and her sisters hadn’t had a discussion yet, but they would soon need help to fill the orders as the demand was more than the three of them could produce, especially while also keeping the shop stocked—and if they wanted to continue to expand their business.
Did they?Perhaps her family was moving on to other interests. With Amity due to have a child in a few months, everything would change drastically again. While her sister pledged her continued support of Rare Confectionery and her desire to be their chocolatier, she’d already cut back on her hours.What would they do if she couldn’t make chocolates for an extended period of time?
And Bea and her husband had found time to go to their country home in Scotland just once since their marriage, and Charlotte knew they were dying to go back and work on the farmhouse.
If both her sisters moved on with their lives, how would the confectionery continue?One thing Charlotte was certain of — she ought to dust off her skills making both chocolates and toffee. Anyone could run the front counter, but the lessons and recipes they’d learned from their mother to make delicious confectionery were special.
At that particular moment though, all Charlotte wanted to do was close the shop entirely, go home, and bury her head under her pillow. But here she was, faced with the eager Edward.
“Do you have a certificate of standard saying you don’t have to be in school?” she asked.
He hesitated, either because he hadn’t expected such a question or because he was about to lie to her.
“Yes, miss, at home. Anyways, I’ll be thirteen in six months and then they can’t make me go back.”
