“That’s up to you.” He had a feeling he knew what she would do. “She’ll run out soon.”
Charlotte nodded. “Especially at those prices.” Sighing, she said, “I’m going to let her finish.”
“I knew you would.” He began walking toward the road where there would be a Hackney available.
“She did say it was the best marchpane,” Charlotte quipped, making him love her more.
Charles almost tripped.He loved her!She was the best person he knew, and he wanted her to be beside him for the rest of their lives.
“If Edward shows up for work tomorrow, at least I’ll get to talk to him,” she continued, unaware of his astounding revelation.
He flagged down a cab, helped her in, and got in, too. Open air, they could easily talk to the driver.
“Where to, guvna?”
Charlotte suddenly looked at Charles as if surprised to find herself seated in the cab, next to him.
“Well, Miss Rare-Foure? Are you going back to your shop or home?”
She groaned. “Edward’s uncle is still working. I must return and see how he’s faring. It hasn’t gone well so far. In any case, I have to lock up.”
“You left the builder there alone?”
“I had no choice,” she told him.
Charles gave the driver the address.
As soon as they arrived, Charles could see there was a problem. By Charlotte’s cry of dismay, she could, too. He helped her down before she jumped. While he paid the driver, she ran to the door, which was ajar, and dashed inside.
CHARLOTTE FELT ILL. She was staring at disaster. Inside the shop were a few people wandering around. There were four makeshift steps lying uselessly sideways on the floor, sawdust and nails all over, and no sign of Edward’s uncle.
“The shop is closed,” Charlotte told a man and two women who had clearly entered just out of curiosity, and one was behind the counter.
That woman’s face turned red with embarrassment. “I was hoping there were some samples back here,” she said. “I wasn’t stealing.” She hurried between the counters and dashed out of the store.
The other two were gawking up at the hole, and Charlotte was grateful when Charles helped to usher them out. Then she heard a noise in the back room.
“Edward,” she called out. Parting the curtain, Charlotte found a stranger staring back at her. He was crouched down, rummaging through the drawers that held their towels and some supplies. The candy-making supplies on the shelves had also been moved. Some were missing.
He stood, a sack in his hand, probably holding their spoons and pots.
“Set that down,” she ordered.
A nasty smile appeared on the man’s face, then vanished at the same time that Charlotte felt someone behind her. Smelling Charles’s familiar scent, she knew he was right there, supporting her.How fortunate she was!
“You heard the lady,” he ground out.
Slowly, the man set down the bag, one of their own delivery sacks, and held out his hands to show they were empty.
“I thought you’d gone out of business and was given everything away. Seemed like it.”
Charlotte felt close to tears. “You shouldn’t be back here,” she said, when she wanted to scream at him to get out. The man moved toward her and the only exit. Taking a step back, she bumped into Charles, who then dragged her to the side, clearing the way so the stranger could exit. Charles saw him out of the shop and locked the door.
Before she knew what she was doing, she sagged against the counter, put her head into her hands and let the tears fall. After a moment, she felt his warm hand on her back, first patting and then rubbing gently until she stopped crying.
“What a mess!”
“I cannot believe your builder left your shop unsupervised and open. It’s unconscionable. We’re lucky there’s anything left at all.”
