“‘Idiot’ may not be strong enough of a word.” Calvin’s expression was sympathetic. “I know what that feels like.”
Jonathan took a shaky breath. “The idea of needing one particular, irreplaceable person is terrifying.”
“And when people are frightened,” Calvin said, “they run away.”
Scots don’t run, Jonathan had told Angelica. And then did the opposite.
“I love her,” he said. “I love her so much I can’t tell if I’m coming or going.”
“You should decide,” Calvin suggested. “I feel that’s the crux of the matter.”
Jonathan cleared his throat. “What if I don’t spend every moment of the next year hawking our catalogues from door to door?”
“I hope you realize,” said Calvin, “I will not be spending every moment of even the next month sewing on buttons or devising new ways to fold neckcloths. We’re all allowed time to ourselves. You just have to decide what you want to do with yours.”
There was naught to figure out. Jonathan already knew the answer.
He wanted Angelica.
She had heard every thought he’d ever had on why he was a rolling stone whom no one place could tempt to stay. He’d been wrong. The question was how to convince her he wanted to put things right.
“How can I slow down, when I must place a catalogue into every future customer’s hand?”
“What if you didn’t?” Calvin suggested.
“Then how would we—” But an idea was already forming. He sat up straight. “Haberdashers.”
“Haberdashers?” Calvin repeated politely.
“Instead of printing and delivering catalogues to individual customers, we could provide them to each town’s local shops instead. Our customers would visit the shops to place their orders, which would increase the shopkeepers’ business, too. We could even offer them a commission.”
“Don’t you dare name the number,” Calvin warned. “I will discuss an appropriate commission with Nottingvale.”
Jonathan was happy to hand over the finer details. He had suddenly freed entire future months of his life. There were far fewer haberdashers than individual customers. Making the rounds would take time, but far less than he had feared.
“I suppose Fit for a Duke must have a headquarters.” If it was here in Cressmouth…
“London,” Calvin said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Jonathan supposed it was. “Besides being the center of the British postal system, I live there, Nottingvale spends the majority of his time there, all the most influential dandies and designers are there...”
None of that signified.
Jonathan set down his mug of chocolate. He didn’t need a pretext to stay. He had a reason: Angelica. She was more than enough.
That was, if she’d give him a second chance.
Chapter 14
Angelica cast an emotional eye about her parlor. It washersnow. Truly hers.
Today was Christmas in every sense of the word. She had all the things she’d worked so hard for. A shop, in her name. A home she owned outright. Recognition for her skill. A marvelous new business opportunity.
She flung her arms out wide and spun in a circle. She wasfreefrom her contract with Mr. Marlowe.
Without the specter of seven years’ worth of high rents hanging over her, she could now share her savings with her family; send home funds as often as she liked. Not just money—Angelica could goherself. She could embrace them, kiss their cheeks, talk with them, laugh with them, even when it wasn’t Christmas.
Could there be a better gift than family?
Soon, they would all meet back here after the church service to celebrate. The Yule log was in the fireplace, and festive boughs decorated with ribbons were placed strategically throughout her home. In a few hours, the cozy interior would overflow with conversation and love.
