My Lady Marzipan by Sydney Jane Baily

Author:Sydney Jane Baily
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2020-06-24T18:30:00+00:00

CHARLOTTE WAS A LITTLE early to arrive at her sister’s house on St. James’s Place. Amity had turned the massive antiquated home into a modern and welcoming one over the past year with bright, cheerful wallpaper and soothing paint, new rugs, and some soft furnishings.

“There’s my lovely girl,” Amity said, not getting up but dropping her knitting project onto her lap and holding out her hands.

Charlotte ran over, grasped her sister’s hands, and took the space beside her on the pretty rose-colored sofa.

“You look wonderful,” she told Amity, whose cheeks had filled out along with the rest of her. “The picture of health.”

“Thank you. I do feel good except for being tired. Anyway, I’m so glad you came.”

“Where is your dashing duke?” Charlotte asked.

“Around somewhere. He’ll be in shortly. What do you think?” Amity held up the knitting needles with cream-colored yarn and a mass of tangled wool.

Charlotte couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. “What is it?”

Amity didn’t bother to look miffed. “First, I thought I would knit the baby a bonnet, but rather quickly, I decided it had best be something straight, like a blanket.”

“What changed your mind to making a spider’s web?” Charlotte asked, lifting one edge of the disaster. They laughed together.

“I shall buy you a soft, beautiful bonnet and a blanket for the baby,” Charlotte promised. “Please don’t inflict this disaster on my little lambkin, be it a boy or a girl.”

Picking up the knitting, needles and all, Amity tossed it into the chair across from her as the door to the drawing room opened. The duke entered followed by Lord Jeffcoat.

At once, Charlotte knew the viscount was the surprise her brother-in-law had mentioned.

“Have you given up on the knitting?” the duke asked. “But you had me buy you a cart load of wool for that bonnet.”

“It was a blanket,” Amity corrected, as Lord Jeffcoat nodded in greeting and moved forward to lift the snarled wool from the chair before sitting.

“Was it truly?” he asked. “I think you’re both wrong. I think it’s a...,” he paused and lifted it up, then held it out, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, it is like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Charlotte smiled at the viscount’s attempt to placate. He looked particularly handsome in dark gray, with a cream cravat.

“You are all having fun at my expense,” Amity said. “And I don’t mind a bit! Give the wool away to someone who has more patience.”

“Don’t give up, dear sister.” Charlotte patted Amity’s hand. “Many find knitting to be entertaining. Why don’t I find you an easy pattern to try. You have loads of time on your hands now that young Edward is nearly as good a chocolatier as you are.”

“Whoa!” Both of the men exclaimed at once, as if reining in a wayward horse.

Charlotte chuckled. “My sister knows two things, gentlemen. One, that I think the world of her and believe her to be the best chocolatier ever, no matter that we tease each other. And two, she knows we

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