The Chocolatier's Wife (22 page)

I
would have
done
so sooner,
but it is just now that
I
have been
permitted to lead
a
group to conduct
such
a
weaving,
and the first
time I have been allowed to create spells to be kept at hand.
It
means
that
I
am considered,
if
not at
the
top of
my
craft, very
near
to it. I
have
even
received
a
handsome
letter from a town asking
me to consider beco
m
ing
their Wise
Woman,
but
I
have
turned it down,
saying
that
I
lack
the
talent
of
sight.
I
do—my sight
has
never
been
predictable—so it was not quite a
lie.
The
amulet will come
in a
separate
letter,
for it needs
to sit for one
more week,
but I
did not wish to wait to send
the
rest.

I
do hope
you
will keep
these
at
hand
and
instruct someone trustworthy in how
to use them.
I
also hope
you
will keep
them for yourself,
but somehow I
doubt it.

Yours, eventually
,

Tasmin

The
day
should
have
been
wonderful,
for the
sleep
certainly
had
been.
The
night
before,
T
asmin
had
spent
a
long
time
lying
in
their
bed,
staring
at his side—she knew it was his,
because the table on
that side had a
cup, a
partly
used
candle,
and
a
book. It
was
also
closest
to
the
window.
It
made her
smile,
because
she
had
told
him
once,
in a
letter,
that
though
she
liked sleeping
near a
window,
she
hated
to
be
next
to
it,
b
e
cause
when
she
slept she
got
chilled.
Maybe
he
didn’t
remember;
maybe
he
just
wanted
that
side of
the
bed
because
he
was
used
to
it. Yet
she
buried
her
face
partly
in his pillow,
one
eye
looking
out
at
the
night
sky, and daydreamed
that
perhaps he
had
positioned
it
so
on
purpose,
to
give
her
the side that
she
favored,
to use his own form
to protect her from
the cool of the night.
After awhile the one
eye
dropped
shut,
and
she
slept
the
night
through.
When she
opened her
eyes
again she
felt
wonderful
and
set
out
on
her
day,
determined
that she would begin setting things right.

It
was not to be.

“And
what
exactly
do
you
mean
that
I
cannot
have
William
of
Almsley’s stores?
Do
you
think
they
are
infected?”
she
asked
the
officer
in
charge
of evidence.
She
was
se
v
eral
floors
beneath
William’s
cell,
which
was
fortunate because she would not have wanted him to hear her yelling like a fishwife.

The
young
man
at
the
desk
blushed.
“No,
miss.
But
they
were
confiscated
and
put under quarantine
for
a
reason.”

“And that would be
—
?” she asked,
her voice a
sugar-coated dagger.

“Because
of
the
murder
of
the
Bishop,
Miss.”
He
was
so
earnest
looking
that she barely managed not to kick
him.

“I
can
understand
keeping
the
prepared
things
for
the
investigation, but
I
do
not
see
why
you
need
to
hold
all
the
materials.
If
I
had
some
of
the chocolate, for
example, I
could make
some candy for
the shop.”

“Eve
n
i
f
I
coul
d
allo
w
that
,
whic
h
I
cannot
,
yo
u
coul
d
no
t
ope
n
th
e
sho
p
fo
r
busines
s
anyway,
”
h
e
frowned
,
a
s
i
f
wonderin
g
wha
t
sh
e
wa
s
tryin
g
t
o
pull.

“Why
not?”

“Because
only
the
owner
can re-open
a
business
after
a
criminal investigation.”

“What
about his wife? Could his wife re-open it?”

“Well,
of course. But you’re not.
His wife, that is.”

“So, as
his
future
wife
I
could
re-open
the
business,
and since
I
am
his future
wife
in
desperate
need
to
make a
few
pence
you’d
happily
allow
me some of the confiscated
cacao so that I can do so?”

“Good try.
No.”

Tasmin drew
herself
up
and
nodded
graciously.
“Have a
good
day, then.” And
left.

She
paced
the
corridor
twice,
burning
off
energy,
before
ascending
the stairs to where they were keeping William.

William
looked up from
his book
and
smiled. “You’re early,” he said.

“We’re
getting
married.”
She
sat
on
the
barrel,
shook
her
skirts
agitatedly, as if tr
y
ing to remove
a
leaf from
the hem.

“Yes,”
he
said,
and
slowly
shut
the
book. “That was
my
understanding of our
rel
a
tionship from
the beginning.”

“Today.”

“Ah.”
The
book
was
placed
down, and
he
came
over
to
her.
“But
you see,
dear,
I
am in
jail,
and
while
it
is
possible
for us
to
wed,
it
might
create a
rather
depressing memory.”

“Oh,
that
it
might, but
I
am
simply
not
letting
them
beat
me.
Do
you know they
won’t let
me
open
the
business
again until
you’re
my
husband? Every day those shelves stay bare is another day your business is closer to being unrecoverable.”

“I
hate
to
tell
you
this
but... ”
and
she
pointed
at
him
and
hissed,
so
he closed
his
mouth
and waited
a
few
beats.
“So
what
will
you
sell,
since
they won’t
allow you to have
the chocolate?”

She
started
pacing. “I
don’t
know.
Tea!
Little
frosted
cakes!
Herbal potions!
I
don’t
care,
as
long
as
the
doors
are
open.
Your
brother
thinks
the next
shipment
of
supplies
will
be
soon, so
I
can
start
from there.
They
did not
take
your
recipe
books,
thank
the
Heavens,
and Cecelia
thinks
she
can figure things
out,
having
watched
you
work.
All
we
need
is
a
few
simple, hard
to ruin
recipes and
we will be in
the clear.”