Candace Sweet’s Confectionery

by Dee, Bonnie

  “If you will allow Vivienne to come with me, I might consider it. Then you would have plenty of time to woo your little shop girl.”

  Vivienne looked up at them. “What are you arguing about? I can hear you are angry.”

  “Do not worry, ma chère. Come now. Let us hurry back to Nounou.”

  Alain scooped up Vivienne to carry her, although she could certainly walk the distance by herself. But he needed to hold her close to know she was safe from her mother’s clutches.

  Nothing would keep Geneviève at bay when she had a plan, and right now the object of her desire was their daughter.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Geneviève Moreau was beautiful beyond anything Candace had expected. She did indeed look like the queen from Vivienne’s fantasy, only a dark and mysterious version—perhaps a wicked sorceress rather than a queen. Either way, her striking beauty made Candace feel plump and plain.

  Watching the Moreaus through the display window as they leaned close to speak, her heart shriveled to the size of a walnut. They were an attractive couple and it seemed they might repair their fractured relationship. Alain’s wife had come home, Vivienne’s real mother returned to her. Any shred of a daydream Candace might have had about becoming a part of their lives evaporated.

  With a sigh she returned to work, which did not slow down for a broken heart. Thank heavens there were customers to serve and candies to make. It saved her from curling up in her bed to mourn.

  But that night when solitude summoned the ghosts of her past, she could not block Alain’s voice. Cher á mon coeur. “Dear to my heart” he had called her before they were interrupted. Did he mean it at all?

  Then Merker’s voice slithered into her consciousness. Foolish child, you do not understand the ways of men. You should have stayed under my protection where you would always be cherished. No man would have broken your fragile little heart.

  Even though she knew those words were a lie, Candace could not stop weeping until she fell into exhausted sleep.

  Over the following days, a dull, continual ache, as if from a tooth extracted to leave painfully exposed nerves, stayed with her. She combatted overwhelming sadness with work and with Susan.

  Her friend had come to her twice for counsel and support. It was high time Candace extended the hand of friendship the other direction, so she sent a note inviting Susan to tea. Even Susan’s vigilant mother should have no concern about former school mates meeting in a public place frequented by society’s best.

  The tea room was overly warm despite the bitter cold outside. Sunlight slanted through tall windows to shine on gleaming silver table service and gilt trimmed china. Potted plants graced every nook, a string trio played softly in a corner, and women in a rainbow array of gowns gossiped happily over pristine white tablecloths. Candace waited in an out-of-the-way corner for Susan to arrive. Susan’s face, as the waiter ushered her into her seat, announced her utter misery.

  “Things are not going well?” Candace asked as soon as the server had gone.

  Susan bit her trembling lip. “It is so very good to hear a friendly voice. I am utterly alone.” When she drew breath, a nearly inaudible whimper escaped her. “Judith has not responded to my recent notes. I have not seen her in days and cannot learn what has become of her.”

  “Ahh,” Candace sighed in a kinship of sorrow.

  Susan leaned forward and spoke quickly, urgently. ““I’ve sent so many notes it will appear suspicious if I send more. I fear Judith has lost her affection for me, or perhaps something more dire has occurred to prevent her from responding. It is driving me mad.”

  Nodding and murmuring sympathy, Candace offered her handkerchief.

  Susan pressed it to her eyes, regaining her composure. “I apologize for blurting all of this. So rude of me.”

  “Not at all. I understand your feelings all too well having suffered heartache of my own.” Still suffering it, she admitted to herself. “Please feel confident in sharing your unhappiness with me.”

  Yet Candace had not confessed her loss and sorrow to her own friends. It was simply too painful to pour out trampled emotions for the inspection of happily betrothed friends. No doubt Rose and Hattie would smother her with kindness and tea. Maybe she too proud to accept the support they would surely give her.

  Susan sniffed before continuing, “Thank you for suggesting Mr. Jennings. He has begun legal proceedings concerning my autonomy, including finding a doctor to declare I am of sound mind and not prone to a nervous condition as my parents believe.”

  “I cannot praise the man highly enough,” Candace said. “You are in good hands.”

  Susan crumbled a biscuit between nervous fingers. “Knowing he is on the job, I would be happy to wait patiently were it not for Judith’s sudden silence. If I only knew she still cared for me and some ill has not befallen her, I should be content. But she may be engaged by now and has given up on our plan.”

  “Notice would appear in the paper if a match has been made,” Candace pointed out.

  “There may be some reason it has not yet been announced. Or she might be ill. Deathly ill, even.” Suzan gestured, sending crumbs flying. “If that is the case, I would cross all barriers to be by her side no matter what came of it. Naturally I considered calling on her as any friend might do, but if the Hayes family has an inkling about the depth of our relationship such a visit might make trouble for Judith.”

  “I could find out for you.” Candace made the promise before considering the difficulties. “I could…” She searched her mind for any reason she might turn up on the doorstep of a woman with whom she had no social connection. Then she recalled how Hattie had once interceded to help a girl under the pretext of delivering a hat. “I might take a candy assortment, which I would insist on delivering in person in order to transmit her suitor’s message. A gentleman of quality, of course.”

  If she should get past whoever answered the door, surely someone would be in attendance as she delivered the parcel to Miss Hayes. Could she pass a note from Susan within the candy box?

  It was too late to take back her offer even if she wanted to. Susan leaned across the table, upsetting her teacup. “Would you? Words cannot convey how appreciative I would be.”

  “It’s settled then,” Candace announced more firmly than she felt. “I will make the delivery this very afternoon so you do not have to wait even one more day to learn what has befallen Miss Hayes.”

  “You are the very definition of a good friend.” Susan mopped up the tea with her napkin. “I’m afraid I have not been the same to you. I did not even ask after your heartbreak.”

  Candace waved a hand. “It is a long story and in the past. Suffice to say I understand your pain. I’m afraid neither of us has an appetite for tea just now. Shall we leave so I may execute this plan?”

  Susan knocked into the table in her haste to rise, making the china tinkle. The waiter, who had already been eyeing her due to her dramatic outburst, approached. “Is there anything I may get for you, ladies? A fresh place setting perhaps?”

  “The bill please,” Candace replied. “We have forgotten a prior engagement and must be on our way.”

  *

  Outside the Hayes’s home, Candace paused to review her mental script. Dread percolated through her, as well as the certainty that anyone seeing her face would know instantly she was perpetrating a deception.

  A maid opened the kitchen door at her knock, took one look at Candace’s ensemble, and addressed her with deference. “Did you mean to use the front door, Miss?”

  “I am a shopkeeper here to deliver a package to Miss Judith Hayes. I had strict instructions from the buyer to deliver it in person.”

  The young girl’s eyes widened. She pushed her cap back to reveal tangled curls. “Ooh, a surprise package. How excitin’! But Miss Judith ain’t at home. She’s taken a trip.”

  “Libby! Who on earth are you telling the family’s business to, girl?” a voice scolded.

  The maid wa
s pushed aside by a formidable woman with gray hair. “What is your business, miss?”

  Candace assumed she was facing the housekeeper. “A delivery of sweets for Miss Judith from an admirer who did not give his name.”

  The housekeeper’s nostrils widened as if she would sniff out the truth. “Hmm. I suppose you had better come with me. Mrs. Hayes will wish to hear more about this so-called admirer.”

  Candace had never entered any home through the kitchen, and the servants’ area was forbidden to her at Merker’s house. As she followed the housekeeper, she would have liked to take a closer look at the kitchen, servants’ hall, and the narrow passages connecting various workspaces, but she was too busy fretting over whether her story would hold up under scrutiny.

  The housekeeper, who had not bothered to introduce herself, ushered her into the parlor and pointed to a horsehair chair. “Please remain seated until Mrs. Hayes arrives to speak with you.” As if Candace might drift around the room, pilfering small items.

  Candace waited in the over-heated parlor until she had memorized the pattern in the wallpaper and the face of the walrus-mustached fellow over the fireplace before the lady of the house arrived.

  Mrs. Hayes, a sallow woman with deep-set eyes and tightly pressed lips, acknowledged Candace’s greeting by holding out her hand. “Whatever you have for my daughter, you may give to me.”

  “I’m afraid the gentleman who placed the order was most unequivocal about placing it in her hands.”

  “My daughter is not in the habit of accepting gifts from unknown men. If this fellow was someone in our social circle, he would have presented the sweets in person and requested permission to court Judith.” Mrs. Hayes eyed Candace. “What name was given?”

  “None. The gentleman selected an assortment and asked me to deliver it personally rather than by courier. I am to recite a message per his instructions.” Candace wished she had prepared a less outlandish scenario. “Since the young lady is not at home, I will return later so she may take possession of her parcel.”

  “I am her mother. You may give it to me, along with the message. What did he look like? How did he speak?” A second’s pause before she asked, “Was it a man? If it was a woman you must tell me now.”

  “He was a ginger-haired fellow, polite and with the air of a gentleman. He respectfully wished to thank Miss Hayes for a dance at some event they both attended and wondered if she would be amenable to him wooing her.”

  “Why would he not mention his name? It makes no sense.”

  Candace drew a blank. “I could not say, Mrs. Hayes. I am only relaying what I was told. Might I enquire when I could expect to find your daughter at home, so I may effectively carry out my duty?” Good lord, she made herself sound like a solider performing a mission.

  “She is visiting a relative in Boston for the winter or perhaps longer.”

  “Oh!” Her thoughts spun like the cogs of a clock. “In that case, might I have an address where I might send the package?”

  Mrs. Hayes raised an eyebrow. “You are extremely diligent in your work. But I doubt overseas postage was paid for.” Again she stretched out her hand. “Give me the box to keep until her return.”

  Thank heavens she’d kept Judith’s personal note in her pocket to pass along only if the opportunity arose. Candace surrendered the package. “Very well. I’ve done as requested to the best of my ability. Good day, Mrs. Hayes. I apologize for interrupting your afternoon.”

  “Good day, Miss…?”

  “Candace Sweet, Confectioner.” She presented her card. “Do come to my shop for any holiday gift-giving need.”

  *

  Outside the house, Candace exhaled in relief, feeling as if she’d barely escaped the Inquisition. She was proud of herself for carrying off her mission. Unfortunately, the news she had would break Susan’s heart. Only recently, Candace might have thought it for the best that the immoral temptation of Judith Hayes was removed. Now, with her beliefs shifting and her understanding deepening, all Candace could see was a woman who had lost her dearest love. It was heartbreaking.

  As she started toward the Carpenters’ house to deliver her message, Candace considered what the word love meant. As a child, she’d felt her parents’ tenderness, her guardian’s distant affection, and the comforting caring of her nanny. Adults meant protection and safety—perhaps all a child could expect in her limited world. Not until she had met Rose, and her other friends, had Candace experienced the trust of true friendship or witnessed the solid union of a couple in love.

  Were her feelings for Alain so strong simply because he was her first effort at romance? Would she get over the pain and later realize they had not really been suited to one another? Only time would tell, but at this moment Candace felt she would never recover from the loss of Alain Moreau and would always regret the life they might have had together.

  Candace arrived at the Carpenters’ house with more sweets to pave her way. When Susan’s mother chaperoned her daughter in yet another stuffy, over-heated parlor, Candace smiled brightly. “Mrs. Carpenter, it is a delight to meet you. Susan spoke of you so often during our school days, I feel as if I have already met you. She mentioned you have a sweet tooth. Please, enjoy this assortment.”

  A middle-aged, dimmer version of vivacious Susan accepted the box. “How kind of you.”

  “Mother, would you leave us to visit alone?” Susan’s fingers nervously drummed her lap.

  “Is there something you would discuss that I could not be privy to?” Similarities to Susan faded as Mrs. Hayes’s worry lines etched deeper.

  “A matter of the heart, Mrs. Carpenter,” Candace replied. “I have had a falling out with my beau and require the shoulder of a friend to cry on.”

  “Ah. In that case, I shall allow you some privacy.” Seeming satisfied that a man was involved, Mrs. Carpenter withdrew from the room, even closing the door behind her.

  Susan put a finger to her lips, suggesting her mother might eavesdrop. “What has happened?” she asked.

  “Sad news concerning… John,” Candace answered. “He has gone to Boston to visit relatives. I believe this may be a design of his parents to prevent our courtship, although I cannot say for sure. My attempts to learn the address of these relatives came to nothing, so I do not know how I might contact him. I am heartbroken.” She expressed what she was certain Susan felt.

  Susan clapped a hand to her mouth, suppressing a sob, but tears spilled down her cheeks. She wept in silence, her shaking terrible to witness. Then she pulled herself together to respond. “I am sorry. I had hoped for a happy ending for you both.”

  “Perhaps there is still hope.” Sympathetic tears tightened Candace’s throat. “If he is truly in love, he might send a telegram or letter. The separation may only be temporary. He might return to me in the future.” It may as well have been Alain she referred to for those were her own sentiments.

  Susan pressed a hand to her chest. “I hope so. Oh, I do hope so.”

  Candace felt exhausted after a day fraught with drama. She wanted nothing more than to be alone to mourn her own loss. “Thank you for listening to my news. I must go now. Perhaps a warm bath and a long sleep will make me feel a bit better.”

  They bade each other farewell and embraced. At this point Mrs. Carpenter returned to the room, indicating she may indeed have been eavesdropping.

  She watched intently as the young women stepped apart. “Good day, Miss Sweet. Thank you for your gift, and do come again. I believe your friendship may be just the tonic our Susan needs.”

  One look at Susan’s devastated expression told Candace that friendship would not suffice to heal Susan’s broken heart. But Candace would do her very best to supply all the support Susan might need.

  With her mission successfully completed, the sense of urgency that had propelled her through the day vanished. Nothing was left now but thoughts of her own misbegotten love, all the more pathetic because it had never gotten so far as a kiss.

  It
was time to follow her own advice: a warm bath, restful sleep, and then face a new day with a fresh attitude.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For the past five years, he’d been stuck like a fly in amber. Alain recognized his stalled behavior now that he had finally begun to reach for something. Of course, until Father’s death he had no control over the stagnation of the business, but inertia had pervaded his life in other ways as well. Lethargy kept him from fighting for his freedom. Now the frozen insect began to strengthen its wings and struggle to break free of confinement. Geneviève must not be allowed to keep him shackled and silenced with her threats of taking Vivienne from him. What court would rule in favor of a woman who had abandoned her family? Divorce would set her free to marry her American millionaire, and she would have to be satisfied with that.

  The momentum of hope and a new attitude propelled Alain through the arduous process of traveling to Marcoussis. On the Channel crossing, Madame Bernard became quite nauseated so he had no time to dwell on his worries or dream about the woman he had left behind. During the train journey to Paris and then to Marcoussis, Vivienne’s presence kept her parents from addressing their disagreement aloud. Even Geneviève had better sense than to make a fuss in front of her daughter and the other passengers.

  Trouble began when they reached the village and Geneviève complained about staying at the inn.

  “The chateau is no longer your home, and your presence would confuse Vivienne.” Alain spoke through gritted teeth as he deposited a portmanteau on the pavement. Nerves frayed from traveling, his temper grew suddenly white-hot. But he must remain calm and patient just a while longer. Before Vivienne could become involved and beg for her mother come home with them, Alain passed Geneviéve’s last piece of luggage to the porter and whisked Vivienne and Madame Bernard away in a rented pony cart.