the wretched thing if you dare. Your uncle says it is his best effort yet.
Your compliments over the last batch only encouraged him. Had you told him it was vile and tasted of rotten eggs, as I did, he might have ceased his silly experiments, and we would be safe.
Rosie thinks this latest effort is not so bad, but Lily was confined to bed for a day with the headache after only a taste. She and I share a sensitive constitution. Daisy was not allowed to try it, though Walter would have permitted it had I not rescued the wee lass. Chocolate should not be given to bairns, I told him.
Alec smiled. He did not doubt Lily’s delicate nature, but his aunt was robust, despite her claims to the contrary. She competently managed the household belonging to Alec’s late brother, Edward, and fostered Edward’s three orphaned daughters with bustling efficiency. Effie was married to Alec’s uncle Walter Fraser, and they now lived in the Edinburgh town house, Hopefield House, which Edward and Amy had preferred to Kilburnie, the family estate, because of its proximity to the business. Following Edward’s death, Alec had inherited both properties and the business as well.
As the younger son, all that had come to him upon the deaths of his parents had been a house on Kilburnie’s property and a share in the business. He had been content with that, but Edward’s death had left him greater shares of Kilburnie and Fraser’s Fancy, with considerable portions set aside for each of Edward’s daughters once they reached adulthood. Alec would not have quibbled had all of it been left to the girls—hedid not begrudge them a penny of the family fortune and had little use for luxury himself.
He did not visit either Kilburnie or Hopefield House often anymore, although military matters and holidays required that occasionally he visit the family town house. He possessed a fortune, a thriving business, a Highland estate, and a handsome town house, and he had family who cared a great deal about him.
Yet at times he felt alone, without a real home or close family. That was his own perception, he knew, for he had closed off his heart that much. Frowning, he looked at Effie’s letter.
Walter is sure that his Chocolate Confections will invigorate Fraser’s Fancies, but he is not a practical man, I fear. Your brother had such a gift for business. Tea is a reliable commodity, Edward used to say, and chocolate is a luxury, yet Walter expects his Confections to become household fare in Britain and on the Continent, too.
Please come home as soon as you can and talk Walter out of his mad scheme. Other matters require your attention as well. May this note find you in good health, which I pray Walter’s Nasty Concoction will not interrupt overmuch, should you be so brave as to consume it. The lasses send their love.
Yours affectionately, Euphemia
Postscript: Rosie will send a letter when she masters penmanship.
At the bottom of the page, in a childish and ink-spotted scrawl, was another signature:
Rose Alexandra Fraser
Frowning, unwilling to admit how much the little signature affected him, Alec folded the letter quickly and tucked it, with the untasted chocolate sample, back into his pocket. He sighed and shifted on the bench seat. That single line of blobbed ink had wrenched his heart.
He was guardian to his three orphaned nieces, though he knew they were in better hands with Effie and Walter than with him. The business was in better hands, too, for his uncle had been devoted to the success of Fraser’s Fancies since its inception in his youth. Alec served only as a silent partner, issuing bank drafts as needed and acting as legal advisor. That suited him, but Walter and Effie were in their seventies now, and could not continue to watch the girls and tend the business indefinitely.
He should go back to Edinburgh, resign his commission, and take a larger hand in running the Fancies. He knew that day would come. But each time he saw Amy’s
Your compliments over the last batch only encouraged him. Had you told him it was vile and tasted of rotten eggs, as I did, he might have ceased his silly experiments, and we would be safe.
Rosie thinks this latest effort is not so bad, but Lily was confined to bed for a day with the headache after only a taste. She and I share a sensitive constitution. Daisy was not allowed to try it, though Walter would have permitted it had I not rescued the wee lass. Chocolate should not be given to bairns, I told him.
Alec smiled. He did not doubt Lily’s delicate nature, but his aunt was robust, despite her claims to the contrary. She competently managed the household belonging to Alec’s late brother, Edward, and fostered Edward’s three orphaned daughters with bustling efficiency. Effie was married to Alec’s uncle Walter Fraser, and they now lived in the Edinburgh town house, Hopefield House, which Edward and Amy had preferred to Kilburnie, the family estate, because of its proximity to the business. Following Edward’s death, Alec had inherited both properties and the business as well.
As the younger son, all that had come to him upon the deaths of his parents had been a house on Kilburnie’s property and a share in the business. He had been content with that, but Edward’s death had left him greater shares of Kilburnie and Fraser’s Fancy, with considerable portions set aside for each of Edward’s daughters once they reached adulthood. Alec would not have quibbled had all of it been left to the girls—hedid not begrudge them a penny of the family fortune and had little use for luxury himself.
He did not visit either Kilburnie or Hopefield House often anymore, although military matters and holidays required that occasionally he visit the family town house. He possessed a fortune, a thriving business, a Highland estate, and a handsome town house, and he had family who cared a great deal about him.
Yet at times he felt alone, without a real home or close family. That was his own perception, he knew, for he had closed off his heart that much. Frowning, he looked at Effie’s letter.
Walter is sure that his Chocolate Confections will invigorate Fraser’s Fancies, but he is not a practical man, I fear. Your brother had such a gift for business. Tea is a reliable commodity, Edward used to say, and chocolate is a luxury, yet Walter expects his Confections to become household fare in Britain and on the Continent, too.
Please come home as soon as you can and talk Walter out of his mad scheme. Other matters require your attention as well. May this note find you in good health, which I pray Walter’s Nasty Concoction will not interrupt overmuch, should you be so brave as to consume it. The lasses send their love.
Yours affectionately, Euphemia
Postscript: Rosie will send a letter when she masters penmanship.
At the bottom of the page, in a childish and ink-spotted scrawl, was another signature:
Rose Alexandra Fraser
Frowning, unwilling to admit how much the little signature affected him, Alec folded the letter quickly and tucked it, with the untasted chocolate sample, back into his pocket. He sighed and shifted on the bench seat. That single line of blobbed ink had wrenched his heart.
He was guardian to his three orphaned nieces, though he knew they were in better hands with Effie and Walter than with him. The business was in better hands, too, for his uncle had been devoted to the success of Fraser’s Fancies since its inception in his youth. Alec served only as a silent partner, issuing bank drafts as needed and acting as legal advisor. That suited him, but Walter and Effie were in their seventies now, and could not continue to watch the girls and tend the business indefinitely.
He should go back to Edinburgh, resign his commission, and take a larger hand in running the Fancies. He knew that day would come. But each time he saw Amy’s
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