“Our new helper,” Charlotte said and introduced them. “Mr. Edward Percy, this is my sister, the Duchess of Pelham.”
The boy looked as if he might fall to the floor in supplication and drop the confectionery. Luckily, Amity was good at setting ordinary people at ease since she’d been one of them all her life, until the previous year’s February wedding.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Edward. I make the chocolates here, and you may call me Mrs. Westbrook,” Amity said, giving the boy her husband’s family name.
“Yes, missus,” but he sent Charlotte a look of alarm.
“Have you tasted one of my chocolates?” Amity asked.
“Yes, missus. It was delicious. It melted in my mouth.”
“Perfect,” Amity said. “I had best get started.”
Then Charlotte set him to work filling the display cases, telling him what went where, while her eldest sister began immediately to make chocolates in every shape and size and flavor, plain and milk, some with fruit and nuts. And Charlotte set up her own station behind the counter making marzipan sweets, which she did all day long in between serving customers.
When Edward had finished stocking the shelves, he wandered into the back and Charlotte could hear Amity explaining what she was doing as she worked. The boy’s natural curiosity, hopefully, would turn him into a confectioner’s apprentice, which would be a most useful thing.
Beatrice and their mother entered at the same time.
“If we can get the display glass cleaned quickly, and the shelves stocked,” Felicity began, “then maybe we can open early.” However, she trailed off to see the glass sparkling and the cases filled.
“How early did you get here?” her mother asked.
“Now I feel lazy,” Beatrice said, but she smiled. “And relieved. I honestly hate the vinegar job and am unsure how I ever got saddled with it.”
“Consider yourself unsaddled,” Charlotte said. Then she looked at her mother. There was no point in prevaricating or dawdling. “I haven’t been here too long, but I did hire some help and forgot to mention it to you. Naturally, if you don’t think he’s a good fit for us, then I will send him on his way.” The thought was a terrible one.How would she bear Edward’s disappointment.
“He!” Felicity repeated. “Hired help! We’ve never had anyone in here who wasn’t family.” She didn’t look pleased.
“Edward,” Charlotte called out. A moment later, he came through the parted curtain.
“Yes, miss.” His face was impossibly earnest.
“This is my mother, Mrs. Rare-Foure. She owns this shop, and she taught me everything I know about making sweets. She taught all of us, in fact.”
His eyes had grown rounder looking at Charlotte’s pretty mother.
“Mother, this is Mr. Edward Percy, a capable young man.”
“Missus,” he said, giving an awkward bow, before walking forward and fearlessly shaking her hand.
Felicity gave him a good long look, taking time to stare him in the eye.
“You can work hard, young man?”
“Yes, missus.”
“And you don’t mind taking orders from females?”
“No, missus.”
“And your parents know you are here?”
Perhaps only Charlotte sensed the slight hesitation.
“Yes, missus. I told my mum last night.”
Then, Felicity nodded. “He shall need an apron by tomorrow,” she proclaimed and sailed past him into the back room to hang up her coat and don her apron. Charlotte would speak to her later, in private, about his wages. Meanwhile, Beatrice still stood there, already removing her coat.
