The Chocolatier's Wife (21 page)

William
stood
of
his
own
accord,
stared
at
the
other
man,
and
said, imitating him
precisely, “I
see.”

“And
then
they
took
me
to
the
jail
cell,
where
I
passed
a
rather
unpleasant night,
and
waited for
my family to come.”

Tasmin
sighed.
“Is he
really
that
disagreeable
a
person,
or
do
you
have a
reason
to dislike him?”

William
tried
to
balance
his
fork
on
the
cross
piece
of
the
cell
bars. “Both,”
he
said
quietly.
“He
and
I
have
locked
horns
from
time
to
time,
when we were both on
the waves,
and
I
do not care for
how he does things.”

“Wonderful,” Andrew said,
taking
the bowls and
stacking them back
in the basket.

She
shook
her
head.
“I
don’t
understand
what
the
Port
Admiral
has
to do
with
a
murder
investigation.
Isn’t
the
Bishop’s
death
more a
matter
for the Governor?”

“Nay,
since
the
Burghers
were
burned
for
betraying
the
city
a
hundred years
or
so
back, we’ve
been
under
Martial
Law.” Andrew
pointed
at
his older
brother
with
a
fork.
“But
I
think
Lavoussier is
simply
looking
for
an opportunity
to
make
William’s life
a
misery.
My
brother
is
not
a
politicor
tactful person.”

William
shrugged. “Sometimes I’m
not.
But I
value honesty above all.” Tasmin
smiled
at
him,
comfortingly.
“As
do
I,”
she
said,
and
he
looked away
so
she
would
not
see
how
much
that
pleased
him.
“So,
why
are
they holding
your brother so long with
no
further action?
The box of chocolates
is not exactly a
signed confession.”

“No,
but
close
enough
if
they
want
to
hold
him,
which
neither
I
nor the
esquire
can
find
out
the
logic
of.”
Andrew
turned
to
William.
“They confiscated your
stock
completely,
but
I
have
men
waiting
to
offload
the next ship due with your supplies into one of the better warehouses.”

“
Cross Street
Warehouse?”

“Father would have a fit.
Angel’s Head.”

“Good.”
William
nodded,
knowing
that
to
be
a
fairly
dry,
safe
place,
well away from
the water.

They
continued
discussing
business
details,
until
Andrew, realizing that
his
wife
must
be
missing
him, made
his
excuses
and
left.
The
prison was
starting
to
grow
dark.
“You
should
go,”
William
said,
holding
Tasmin’s hand
through the bars.

“I
know.”
She
tucked
an
imaginary stray
hair
behind
her
ear,
looking uncomfor
t
able.
“I
have
spent
years
waiting
for the
day
we
would
meet
and now
that
the
day
has
come…”
She
looked
at
him
in
that
intent,
direct
way
of hers.
“When
were you planning on
sending for
me?”

His
thumb
ran
over
her
knuckles.
“Soon.
It’s
why
I’d
already
bought
the bed.”

“I’d hoped so, but…” She looked away. “I had expected to hear from you
sooner,
I
suppose.
I’ve
been
eligible
for
the
wedding
table
for
six
years
now. Six
years!”
She
gave
him a
glare.
“You
do
know
that
there
are
many,
many women my age or
younger with children already?
”

“I
thought
that
you
would
have
considered
that
you
had
better
things
to do?”
Which
was,
in
its own way,
quite true.

Her
brow
wrinkled. “I
don’t
know.
I
just
thought
...
I
didn’t
say
I
was sorry.
By
any means.
I
just...
”
She
looked
up,
as
the
clock
began
to
chime. “You’re right,
it is ge
t
ting dark.”

Still,
he
held
onto
her
hand, reluctant
to
let
it
go.
It
was
slender
and delicate,
d
e
spite
the
calluses
that
she
had
developed
during
her
trade. He
played
with
the
ring
of
coral
that
banded
one
finger, smiling
when
he recognized
it. He’d
had
no idea
that
she
truly
treasured
the
things
he’d given her.
“Will
you be safe?”

“Of course,” she said,
and
got up.

He
let
her
hand
slip
from
his,
and
she
stood
there,
awkwardly,
as
if waiting
for
who
knew
what.
He
smiled
at
her.
“Stay
safe,
promise
me?” Even
though
he’d
asked
her
earlier,
he
could
not
help
but
ask
again.
He
was afraid
for
her,
a
little, because he didn’t know
what Lavoussier
might do.

She
nodded,
took
her
basket, and
began
walking
down
the
shadowed corridor. She
turned
once
and
looked
back
at
him,
and
he
waved
at
her, until
she
turned,
relu
c
tantly,
and
went
through
the
iron
bound
doors. Did she
regret
leaving
him
here?
Did
she
regret
coming,
and
wanted
to
tell
him she
would
not
be
back? He
doubted
he
would
ever
know, fully,
what
she was thinking, but he did not find
that he minded that at all.

Chapter
9

Ferou Second, Sapphire Moon Quarter 1788

Dear
William,

Of course I loved your necklace! Gratified,
indeed! I do not have
the
fortune to send
such
grand
things
to you,
so I
have worked a
healing
cast,
and
now from it I
can
offer
you
an
amulet that
will ward off—supposedly,
do not put too great
a
store in it—greater injuries, and
two potions for healing,
and
a
warming poultice for fever
that
needs
boiling water added to it.