The Chocolatier's Wife (96 page)

They both looked at the chocolate shop as they
passed
it
on their
way
to
the
alley
that
would
give
them
their
shortcut
out of town.

“Oh,
well,
if
there
were
a
choice
in
the
matter
I
would
have
gone
for
the sprites. Much more
useful.”

“But they aren’t
very
warm
at night when you’re lonely.”

He
leaned
over
and
kissed
her
cheek
right
in
front
of
the
milliner. The sisters, who had been changing the window display, stared with their mouths
open,
and she
blushed
deeply
and resisted
the
urge
to
kick her horse forward.

“You are
impertinent, Mister Almsley.”

“I
daresay you’ve
known
that for
a
very
long time,
Miss Bey.”

“And you indulge in
it with such great joy.”

He
looked
up
at
the
bright
blue
afternoon
sky.
“I
do.
But
then, I
am speaking
to
the
woman
who
came
to
rescue
me
even
though
she
is
supposed to
wait
for
me
to
call
for
her
to
come.
The
same
woman
who
locked
herself and
her
students
into
her
clas
s
room,
and
refused
to
let
the
mage
finders in
to
take
one
of
them.”

It
was
odd,
to
hear
him speak
of
things
she
had written, to hear proof that he r
e
membered the things she’d told him.

She
blushed.
“She
didn’t
wish
to
become
a
mage
finder;
they
had
no
right to try and
force her.”

“Impertinent.
Our
children
will
be
impossible.”
He
sounded
extremely happy at the thought.

She
laughed,
then, as
they
took
the
next
alley,
and
as
soon
as
they
had reached
clear
roads, urged
her
horse
into
a
gallop.
They
raced
each
other for
a
short
while,
and
the
trip
passed
quickly
and
happily.
Soon
he
was leading her down the path to a
neat little cottage.

The
Admiral’s
widow
sat
quietly
in
a
swing
under
a
portico
in
front of
the
co
t
tage,
despite
the
chill
weather,
reading
and being
very genteel-looking, despite
the
layers
of
shawl
and
blanket
that
were
meant
to
keep her
warm. She
was
still
wearing
black, even
though
her
time
of
mourning should
have
been
over.

When
the
thought
came
into
Tasmin’s head
as
she
inelegantly dismounted,
she
thought
it
was
her
crueler
side
being
slightly
uncharitable, but
when
she
looked
again,
arm
through
William’s
as
they
approached
the lady,
she
thought
it
again.
Madame
Gervaise
looked
as
if
she
could
be
posing for
some
pastoral,
romantic
painting
depic
t
ing
country
life,
for
she
was plump
-
cheeked
and
quite
pretty
in
a
sweet
way.
She
obv
i
ously
remembered and
liked
William,
by
the
way
she
stood
up
and
came
over
quickly,
clasping his hands in
hers and
berating him
for
not coming to see her sooner.

N
o
roo
m
t
o
b
e
jealous
,
Tasmin
.
He’
s
your
s
b
y
la
w
an
d
she’
s
go
t
t
o
b
e
ten year
s
olde
r
tha
n
he
,
a
t
least
.
Twenty
,
even
.
An
d
yo
u
ar
e
prettier
.
Almost.
Sh
e
trie
d
t
o
righ
t
he
r
thoughts
,
bu
t
sh
e
kne
w
i
f
th
e
woma
n
didn’
t
sto
p
cooing ove
r
he
r
intended
,
o
r
le
t
g
o
o
f
hi
s
hands
,
o
r
sto
p
tryin
g
t
o
pul
l
hi
m
i
n
t
o
sit nex
t
t
o
he
r
o
n
th
e
swing
,
Tasmi
n
wa
s
g
o
in
g
t
o
d
o
somethin
g
drastic
.

She
crossed
to
the
crackling
brazier.
A
low
stone
wall
sheltered
her,
and the
space
was
not
very
cold.
It
wasn’t
exactly
warm,
either,
but
Tasmin,
used
to
the
cold
wi
n
ters
of
the
North,
did
not
mind
it
too
much. Mostly because
she
was
busy
ignoring
Madame
Gervaise,
which
was
dratted
hard since William
insisted on
introducing them.

Willia
m
mus
t
hav
e
see
n
somethin
g
wicke
d
i
n
Tasmin’
s
eyes
,
fo
r
h
e
cleared hi
s
throa
t
an
d
extracte
d
hi
s
hand
s
fro
m
Madam
e
Gervaise’s
,
takin
g
Tasmin’
s
ar
m
an
d
pullin
g
her
,
bodily
,
forward
.
“Thi
s
i
s
m
y
wife-to-be
,
Tasmi
n
Bey.
”

“Oh,
I
see!
Hello,
dear.
William, your
mother
always
led
me
to
believe that
you
were
one
of
those
rare
men
the
Mating
Spell
never worked
for.
I always
thought
you
quite
unattached.”
She
seemed
genuinely
disappointed, and
if
Tasmin
hadn’t
been
seething
with
jealousy,
she
could
almost
have
felt badly
for
the
woman.
In
a
world
where
people
were
paired
off
as
children, a
replacement
husband
would
not
be
easy
to
find.
Obviously
she’d
been eyeing
William
as
a
possible
mate,
which,
pity
or
not,
did
not
make
Tasmin like her any
more.