Chapter 12
Twelve
Harry couldn’t be certain how he had gotten here.
Matters in his office desperately required his attention, but here he was, stepping onto the station platform in York.
The high-arched ceilings and cast-iron columns had once greeted him before a day of business dealings, but now the sight of the station brought a rush of anticipation. This was Lady Skelton’s city.
This is business. He had reminded himself of that fact when boarding the train and continuously throughout his journey. While he and the widow might have progressed to friendly acquaintances since the baron’s funeral, he worked for the Skelton estate.
This wasn’t a personal call. Harry didn’t know exactly what business he had with Lady Skelton today, but he would figure it out by the time his feet carried him to her door.
His pocket watch informed him it was much too early for calls.
It would be impolite to arouse her from bed, yet the thought of her aroused in bed had Harry sternly repeating his reminder. This is business.
The commercial neighborhood was full of both tourists and locals enjoying the retailers that had prospered in the city as result of the railways.
York was in no short supply of confectionary shops, the dust of chocolate practically filling the air.
Numerous shop windows displayed fudge, bonbons, toffees, and other treats.
Harry stopped outside a shop with gold shimmering stars and celestial patterns painted onto the front windows.
While other sweets shops were decorated in browns and deep reds, this one made use of rich shades of purple.
It was not one of the iconic confectionary names in the city, but a smaller shop called “Nora’s Confections and Dreams.”
Lady Skelton might enjoy some chocolates. Business calls could involve gifts.
The minute he walked into the shop, his sweet tooth ached. The smell of sugar and chocolate seduced him into removing his coin purse before he even made it up to the counter. Charmed, he took stock of the immense variety of sweets on display. One of everything seemed reasonable.
Called by the sound of the bell that had rung upon his entrance, a tall woman with a purple apron appeared from a door behind the counter.
Her golden-brown eyes, trimmed with dark, thick lashes, lit up with joy and were complemented by a radiant smile.
He returned a smile of his own, unsure if his newfound confidence—or rather basic manners—around women could be attributed to the passionflower tincture he carried in his pocket, or the herbalist herself.
“Good morning, sir. How can I help you today?”
Harry was still captivated by the marvelous scent of the shop, discerning layers of flavors in the aroma. Cocoa was by far the most prominent, but there were others—citrus, floral, spice.
“I am not quite sure yet. There are so many to choose from. I wish to purchase an assortment for a gift. I suspect she has a fondness for sweets.”
“At risk of sounding presumptuous, everyone has a fondness for sweets once they try my chocolates. Do you know any of her favorite flavors?”
“She serves a tea made with lemon balm and lavender.” He had come to associate the flavors of the tea with Lady Skelton, but now that he said it aloud, he wasn’t sure if they were a favorite of hers.
Maybe she preferred something else but was only putting it out for Harry and his bad case of the nerves.
“Lemon balm and lavender . . . how unique,” said the woman with a subtle twitch of her eyebrow.
“That does sound delicious. I don’t have any chocolates with those exact flavors, but I do have some with lavender.
Here.” She handed Harry a round chocolate with a swirled drizzle. “Lavendar and cardamom. Try it.”
Harry tasted chocolate after chocolate as the woman forced tiny confections into his hand. Flavors burst in playful contradictions on his tongue. By the time he was reaching for his fifth chocolate, he wasn’t entirely convinced they weren’t laced with laudanum.
After much deliberation, he selected a few of his favorites. The woman, presumably Nora, said, “So, tell me more about her. I’ll add a few of my personal selections and then wrap them up for you.”
“Well . . . she is lovely. Beautiful, with the darkest eyes I have ever seen. You would think that they would feel empty, but there is so much life in them. At first, I thought she was a quiet, reserved woman, but when she gives you the privilege of hearing her thoughts, you realize she is both fierce and kind. Capable of handling her own struggles but in a way that uplifts everyone around her. Still, I worry that she is lonely . . .”
Now Harry was certain there was laudanum in the sweets. Why was he blabbering about Lady Skelton to this stranger?
“Well then, how fortunate she is to have you in her life.” Nora lowered her voice and leaned over the counter toward Harry, eyeing another man browsing the shop.
“I have another assortment of chocolates, if you wish, that will provide an extra hand in your romantic endeavors. Share the chocolates with the woman you’re courting, and it will help you to see each other in the best light.
The sparks will fly, and the romance between you will bubble, but only if it’s meant to be. ”
Harry was certain she had winked before she leaned back and pretended as if she had not just made him a mysterious offer.
“Oh.” Harry was shocked. “I’m not courting her.”
“You aren’t?” Her tone teetered between skepticism and amusement.
“No. That would hardly be appropriate. I am here on a business matter. Her husband just passed away, and I am handling the estate.”
“So it’s common for you to bring chocolates to your business meetings?”
“I don’t think it’s inappropriate. Surely, as a businesswoman, you benefit from people purchasing chocolates for a variety of occasions. Besides, she gave me a gift. I am merely returning the favor.”
“All right, all right. I didn’t mean for you to feel as if you must defend yourself. I will finish packing this gift for your business meeting. And then you can give it to the lonely woman with lively eyes who you are not courting because she is recently widowed.”
Selecting a few more chocolates from the case, she stuffed the rest of the box.
On the back counter, she wrapped it with a dark plum bow while speaking over her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, sir. I’m wrapping the box to look like a business gift, not an ‘I would profess my undying love if only it were appropriate’ gift. ”
He should be appalled, but the woman’s forward nature made him chuckle. Her generous smile and playful banter left no room for ill thoughts.
Nora handed Harry the box over the counter. “Give Agnes my regards.”
Agnes laid the key on the table next to her breakfast tray. Peppermint wafted through the room and awakened her mind. She needed to focus. It had been three days since finding the mysterious object in Richard’s drawer, and she could feel time was running out.
The unique patterns that adorned the key thoroughly stumped her.
The design was unlike anything they had in their home.
Ornate scrollwork surrounded the profile of a man she did not recognize on the key’s head.
But it had to unlock something. Why else would Richard have it?
And why else would his spirit be so intent for her to find it?
One of Richard’s coffee cups sat on the morning tea tray again.
Although both Mrs. Smith and Kitty denied placing them there, the cups kept appearing, oftentimes accompanied by the faint aroma of coffee.
At first, she thought it was her imagination.
Surely grief could cause one’s mind to play tricks.
But when she tripped over his slippers lying in the doorway for the third time and found new ink stains on the furniture, she couldn’t dismiss the signs any longer.
On one occasion, when Agnes found herself in tears over missing her dear friend, his handkerchief appeared by her side.
Even Bram seemed preoccupied lately, acting as though he were receiving the attentions of someone else, someone unseen.
Staring out the window of the drawing room, Agnes went through a mental list of the tasks she needed to complete in her apothecary today. The sight of a figure shuffling among the crowd took her by surprise. Why was Mr. Evans in York?
There was a knock at the front door. Ward’s footsteps echoed through the parlor, and she heard the mumble of the accountant’s voice. While she couldn’t make out every word, she was confident she heard them mention her name.
A grumbling Ward appeared at the drawing room door. “My lady, you had a visitor. Do not busy yourself, though. I told him it is too early for you to accept calls and sent him on his way.”
“Oh, no! Please, Ward. Call him back.” She stood from her chair in protest. Her butler hesitated, and she repeated, “Now, please!”
Ward sighed, shrugging as he walked out. She jumped from her chair and rushed to the window. If she could find Mr. Evans again, perhaps she could capture his attention by knocking on the glass. She frantically studied the face of each passerby, not hearing the footsteps approaching behind her.
Ward cleared his throat to announce the visitor. “Mr. Evans.” On his way out he muttered, rather loudly, “He hadn’t gone too far. Sat on our doorstep like a lost puppy.”
A blush crept over Mr. Evan’s face. He was still prone to coloring, but his normally trembling hands were still, and there was no glisten to his face. His voice was steadier, and his words flowed with more confidence since she had first met him at Richard’s funeral.
Kitty appeared at the door. “I will have Mrs. Smith prepare a tea tray. Which tea would you like served, ma’am?” Agnes looked to Mr. Evans and he nodded.