she'd help him unpack the new inventory, and he'd take the time to show her the beauty of each piece.
Look at this pearl. It isn't flashy like a diamond, but its value is in its purity and substance. His grey eyes would focus on her. Be wise, my girl, and don't be fooled by glitter.
She felt a pang. She couldn't bear to disappoint her father.
Clearing her throat, she said, "Whoever heard of a woman running a business as large as Sparkler's? It simply isn't done."
"You could be the first," her friend replied stoutly. "Remember all those late nights we spent talking about our deepest, most innermost dreams? You said you wanted to have your own shop—and now you have the opportunity."
"Dreams aren't the same as reality."
"You've always supported me in my dreams." Percy's blond curls tipped to the side. "Now I'm married to Mr. Hunt and writing novels. If I can find the ultimate happiness, why can't you?"
Because Percy was pretty and spirited, deserving of everything good. Whilst Charity was ... Never gild a lily or a weed. Keep your head down. Do as you're told. She chased a rock away with the tip of her kid boot.
"Picture a new sign on the storefront." Percy waved her hands with dramatic flair, as if unveiling a grand masterpiece. " Sparkler & Sparkler: Purveyors of the Extraordinary. It has a ring to it, don't you agree?"
"Only because you've a way with fiction." Tucking away her longing, Charity said, "The reality is I have suggested it before, and Father wouldn't even hear of it. Marriage to Mr. Garrity is the only way to help the business and make my papa happy."
"But what about your happiness?"
"I'll be happy knowing that I've acted prudently and in the best interests of everyone."
They walked on in uncharacteristic silence. Charity was struck by unease, justified when her friend said, "What about ... Paul?"
The sounds of the garden melded into a loud buzz. Charity's heart raced; her skin tingled. All at the mere mention of his name.
"I know you have feelings for my brother," Percy said quietly, "and if he weren't such a numskull, he'd recognize it too. But I think he is finally ready for love, Charity. And if you'd let me tell him what you did for him—"
" No. " Charity clutched her friend's arm. "You promised , Percy. You gave me your word on our friendship that you would never disclose my visit to Spitalfields."
"I know I did, which is why I haven't breathed a word of it to anyone. But, Charity," Percy said with obvious frustration, "don't you think my bacon-brained brother ought to know the truth? You risked your reputation, your very life , to nurse him when I couldn't do so. You were as brave as any heroine, and I wish you'd let me tell him so."
Charity shook her head, in desperation and ... guilt. For she'd kept the truth of what had transpired between her and Mr. Fines a secret, even from her best friend. The humiliation of being kissed by mistake was already too much: she couldn't bear Mr. Fines finding out and offering for her out of obligation. Pity , for God's sake.
Embers smoldered in her chest. She could endure many things—but never that.
"What would that accomplish?" Charity said as calmly as she could, "The truth is I count it a blessing that Mr. Fines was too inebriated to take note of my presence. Going to him was an act of folly rather than heroism, and as for my feelings for him ..."—mentally, she crossed her fingers—"they were naught but a passing infatuation. I've grown up, Percy, and I'm quite done with that foolishness."
"But that was only nine months ago. And you're the most constant person I know."
"Done," Charity repeated.
"I just think that if Paul had any inkling—"
"If you divulge my actions now, you'll only ruin my reputation and my chances of marrying Mr. Garrity. He will help Papa and save the business. Ergo, he is the man I must wed."
This was exactly the sort of sensible, practical argument she ought to be making. Yet the words felt as dry as sawdust in
Look at this pearl. It isn't flashy like a diamond, but its value is in its purity and substance. His grey eyes would focus on her. Be wise, my girl, and don't be fooled by glitter.
She felt a pang. She couldn't bear to disappoint her father.
Clearing her throat, she said, "Whoever heard of a woman running a business as large as Sparkler's? It simply isn't done."
"You could be the first," her friend replied stoutly. "Remember all those late nights we spent talking about our deepest, most innermost dreams? You said you wanted to have your own shop—and now you have the opportunity."
"Dreams aren't the same as reality."
"You've always supported me in my dreams." Percy's blond curls tipped to the side. "Now I'm married to Mr. Hunt and writing novels. If I can find the ultimate happiness, why can't you?"
Because Percy was pretty and spirited, deserving of everything good. Whilst Charity was ... Never gild a lily or a weed. Keep your head down. Do as you're told. She chased a rock away with the tip of her kid boot.
"Picture a new sign on the storefront." Percy waved her hands with dramatic flair, as if unveiling a grand masterpiece. " Sparkler & Sparkler: Purveyors of the Extraordinary. It has a ring to it, don't you agree?"
"Only because you've a way with fiction." Tucking away her longing, Charity said, "The reality is I have suggested it before, and Father wouldn't even hear of it. Marriage to Mr. Garrity is the only way to help the business and make my papa happy."
"But what about your happiness?"
"I'll be happy knowing that I've acted prudently and in the best interests of everyone."
They walked on in uncharacteristic silence. Charity was struck by unease, justified when her friend said, "What about ... Paul?"
The sounds of the garden melded into a loud buzz. Charity's heart raced; her skin tingled. All at the mere mention of his name.
"I know you have feelings for my brother," Percy said quietly, "and if he weren't such a numskull, he'd recognize it too. But I think he is finally ready for love, Charity. And if you'd let me tell him what you did for him—"
" No. " Charity clutched her friend's arm. "You promised , Percy. You gave me your word on our friendship that you would never disclose my visit to Spitalfields."
"I know I did, which is why I haven't breathed a word of it to anyone. But, Charity," Percy said with obvious frustration, "don't you think my bacon-brained brother ought to know the truth? You risked your reputation, your very life , to nurse him when I couldn't do so. You were as brave as any heroine, and I wish you'd let me tell him so."
Charity shook her head, in desperation and ... guilt. For she'd kept the truth of what had transpired between her and Mr. Fines a secret, even from her best friend. The humiliation of being kissed by mistake was already too much: she couldn't bear Mr. Fines finding out and offering for her out of obligation. Pity , for God's sake.
Embers smoldered in her chest. She could endure many things—but never that.
"What would that accomplish?" Charity said as calmly as she could, "The truth is I count it a blessing that Mr. Fines was too inebriated to take note of my presence. Going to him was an act of folly rather than heroism, and as for my feelings for him ..."—mentally, she crossed her fingers—"they were naught but a passing infatuation. I've grown up, Percy, and I'm quite done with that foolishness."
"But that was only nine months ago. And you're the most constant person I know."
"Done," Charity repeated.
"I just think that if Paul had any inkling—"
"If you divulge my actions now, you'll only ruin my reputation and my chances of marrying Mr. Garrity. He will help Papa and save the business. Ergo, he is the man I must wed."
This was exactly the sort of sensible, practical argument she ought to be making. Yet the words felt as dry as sawdust in
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