The Chocolatier's Wife (88 page)

“For
mamma’s sake,
I
dearly
hope
not,
though
if
he
were
so
eager
to force A
n
drew’s hand,
it might point to it.”

They
ate
in silence,
not
particularly
enjoying
the
food,
which
was
a shame,
since it wasn’t
quite so bad as she’d feared. “William?”

“Hmm?”

“You wouldn’t…I mean…” She blushed and
made a
never
mind
gesture with her hand,
taking
up a
forkful of ham
and
apples.

He
blushed
a
little
as
well,
but
looked
at
her
squarely.
“I
did
not
when
I
could have.
I
will not violate your trust now.”

“Do you promise?”

He
gave
her
a
shy
smile.
“I promise
that
you
will
be
the
only
woman with whom I
share myself.”

“Delicately put.” She covered her red cheeks with her hands.

“You
should
promise
now,
too.
Fair’s
fair
and
you
are
far
more
desirable than
I.”

“Nonsense, but I promise. My complete fidelity
and loyalty, forever.”

He
leaned
on
his
hand
and
smiled
sweetly
at
her.
“Let’s pretend
we’re already
wed?
I
could
light
the
fire upstairs
and
we
could
forget
all
of
our troubles.”

“Wonderful
idea.”
She
imitated
his
move.
“And
while
we’re
at
it,
we shall
pretend
I
have a
non-deadly
but
vicious
disease
and
you’re
secretly afraid
to touch me for
fear of getting it.”

“You have
no
spontaneity.”

“I
am
a
lady,
sir.
I
have
not the slightest idea what that word means.”

Chapter
2
3

Julait eighth,

Gold Moon Quarter 1792

Dea
r
William,

Whil
e
o
f
cours
e
I
suppor
t
wholeheartedl
y
an
y
endeavo
r
whic
h
wil
l
brin
g
yoursel
f
an
d
ou
r
famil
y
wealt
h
an
d
happiness,
I
woul
d
b
e
greatl
y
please
d
i
f
nex
t
tim
e
yo
u
woul
d
choos
e
t
o
infor
m
m
e
befor
e
anyon
e
else
.
Thoug
h
I
a
m
fa
r
to
o
lowly,
bein
g
onl
y
you
r
futur
e
wife
,
t
o
consul
t
befor
e
makin
g
an
y
lif
e
changin
g
plans
,
i
t
i
s
alway
s
muc
h
mor
e
pleasan
t
fo
r
m
e
if
,
whe
n
m
y
mothe
r
i
s
wavin
g a
aroun
d
lette
r
fro
m
a
distan
t
cousi
n
an
d
shriekin
g
tha
t I
hav
e
cause
d
th
e
rui
n
o
f
u
s
all
,
tha
t I
a
m
i
n
ful
l
understan
d
in
g
o
f
what
,
exactly
,
I
a
m
bein
g
blamed.

Your
s
,
eventually,

Tasmin

William
could
not
sleep,
s
o
h
e
spen
t
a
goo
d
measur
e
o
f
th
e
earl
y
mornin
g
roas
t
in
g
coco
a
Beans
.
H
e
ha
d
bough
t
pur
e
liquo
r
fro
m
a
truste
d
sourc
e
t
o
ge
t
hi
m
started
,
bu
t
kne
w
t
o
b
e
a
tru
e
chocolatie
r
h
e
ha
d
t
o
mak
e
hi
s
own
.
H
e
watche
d
th
e
f
ir
e
carefully
,
turnin
g
th
e
pod
s
an
d
generall
y
obsessin
g
over th
e
process
,
worr
y
in
g
ove
r
th
e
nibs
.

He
had
selected
two
types
of
beans.
The
first
type,
Forastero,
seemed
to
roast
faster
than
the
Criollo.
The
latter
was
much
more
expensive,
so
he
watched
it
with
all
the
more
care.
When he
wasn’t obsessing
over
getting the
roasting
just
right,
cooked
thoroughly
through
but
short
of
burnt, he was
thinking about
the
murder, about
his
family,
and
about
the
Pandora
Chase.

Part
of
him
was
having a
hard
time
believing
that
everything
was
so closely
co
n
nected,
that
the
poor
Bishop
was
almost
incidental
to
the
whole, save
that
he
had, a
p
parently,
held
in
his
possession
something
Lavoussier (or
someone,
but
he
was
willing
to
bet
on
Lavoussier
if
for
no
other
reason than the
man wanted
to
destroy
his
family)
wanted
very badly.
Something he must have
gotten on
the
Pandora
Chase, for
that was the only time that he
and
the
Bishop
ever
had
any
true
communication.
Any
other
exchanges between
himself
and the
clergyman
had
been
strictly
business
in
nature, and
fruit was gotten readily enough. No need to kill
for
that.

He
placed
the
roasting
pans
on
cooling
racks, and
then
cleared
off
the grinding
t
a
ble.
He
ran
his
hand
along
the
saddle
-
shaped
stone.
If
he
set
it
in place
and
scrubbed
it
down,
not
only
would
it
be
ready
for
him
to
start
the grinding,
but
more
time
would
have
passed,
and the
hour
would
be
a
little more
proper
for
visiting. He
even
started
the
project,
but
he
was
feeling restless,
and
the
nibs
would
need
hulled
and
winnowed
before
he
got
to
the grinding
anyway,
so
he
decided
to
go
and
change
to
arrive
at
fa
m
ily’s
house just past breakfast.