“Yes, of course,” her mother said, “but toyourgood news.”
“Mine?” Charlotte asked.How could her mother think there was anything good in the disaster in which they all stood?
“I assume you have come to an agreement. Otherwise why would Lord Jeffcoat be in the back room?”
“Oh!” Charlotte said.
Charles, who had remained silent up until that moment, stepped forward and shook Armand Foure’s hand before nodding to Felicity.
“I must apologize if we gave the wrong appearance. You see, we’d just discovered some rather disturbing events, and so I was making tea,” he trailed off at the bemused expressions on both her parents’ faces.
“Were you about to don your apron, as well?” Armand asked, then laughed heartily at his own jest. “Perhaps you were going to put on the frying pan and make some eggs and bangers.”
“Father!” Charlotte scolded. “The viscount was kind enough to see I was in some distress and attempt to — oh! the kettle!” She left them to go turn off the stove. “Shall I make the tea anyway?”
“Of course,” her mother said. “No need to waste boiled water. Then come out here and hug us.”
Charlotte poured the water over the tea leaves, quickly put the cozy over the teapot, and ran back to face her parents in case Charles was being further insulted or pressured.
Her mother opened her arms, and Charlotte ran into her comforting embrace. She’d always considered it to be the very best place in the whole wide world. Warmth and rosewater fragrance surrounded her. And then after feeling her mother’s kiss upon her temple, she was handed off to the other best place to be, enfolded in her father’s strong arms. She had missed his familiar tobacco scent, glad he was home.
“Are you truly feeling better?”
“Yes, dear girl. Nothing some sea air and glasses of port couldn’t cure.”
She sighed, relaxing until he said, “You had best tell us what’s happened to the shop before your mother has a fit. I know she’s contained herself as best she can, but an explanation is in order.”
He set her away from him, and she almost moved toward Charles. After all, his embrace had become another of her favorite places. Glancing at him, he nodded with encouragement.
Charlotte took a breath. “Surprise! I’m expanding Rare Confectionery upstairs. That’s double the space for customers. With room for a café to sell coffee, hot chocolate, and tea, as well as our confectionery, and maybe some biscuits or even patisserie?” She wished she hadn’t ended on an uncertain, questioning note, but she was feeling impossibly unsure of her actions.
Her mother frowned. “Didn’t we discuss a café before I went away?”
“Yes, Mother. But it would be right here.” Charlotte gestured to the gaping, ugly hole. “And I had to say yes to Mr. Richardson as he had some loud tenants waiting for the space.”
“What do you mean you said yes?” Felicity asked.
Charlotte had to confess. “I mean I signed a lease, for three years.”
Her father barked out a laugh. “You’ve raised a miniature you, Mrs. Rare-Foure, exceptyouwould have demanded five years at a fixed monthly rate.”
“Indeed I would,” her mother said. “I shall speak to the landlord at once for trying to fox my daughter when we have been good tenants all these years.”
“Then you’re not angry?” Charlotte asked.
“I can see you were caught in a difficult position. Naturally, I would rather you had contacted me—”
“I would have if he’d given me more time.”
Her mother pursed her lips. “Again, I shall have words with him. He knew what he was about in pressuring you.”
“Lord Jeffcoat looked over the lease to make sure nothing was amiss.”
“Did he now?” remarked her father.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. Her parents had them at the altar exchanging vows already.
“Finish up, Charlotte,” her mother prompted. “We’re going to Amity’s next to see how she’s feeling.”
