The Chocolatier's Wife (99 page)

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Authors: Cindy Lynn Speer

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #General

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Cecelia shook
her head. “You will need me.
Who
will watch Tasmin?”

He
smiled.
“I
will
still
expect
you
to
watch
over
her
at
night,
but
for
now,
I
wish
you
and
Ayers
to
stay
away
from
the
shop.
It
will
be
a
target.
Anyone found
here
may
get
hurt,
or
be
taken
to
prison. We
know
our
enemy,
and we know
that he will act.
I
promise to call you.”

She
nodded.
“Thank
you.”
The
coins
disappeared.
She
hugged
Tasmin. “I
will see you tonight. Call upon me the second you need me.”

Bonny
started
crying
again,
which
set
Tasmin’s
teeth
on
edge.
William locked the door.

“William!
How can
you be so calm! I
am
about to lose everything!”

“As
you
should,”
Tasmin said
hotly.
“You
poisoned
the
Bishop, or
at least delivered the poisons to him.”

“I didn’t; Franny did.”

“Sister,”
William
said,
placing
a
hand
on her
shoulder,
“you
and
I
both know father
paid
her
for
her
testimony.
Besides,
you
yourself
as
much
as admitted it.”

“As
much
as.
That’s
the
key.”
Her
hands
sought
William’s. He
flinched but
did
not
pull
away. “I
didn’t
actually,
you
see.”
She
looked
at
Tasmin, pleadingly.
“I only
said
that
because
I
wanted
Eric
to
know,
if
or when
you confronted him,
that I
was loyal.”

“Then how did you get the jacket?”

“Eric
gave
it
to
me,
asked
me
to
hide
it.
That’s
all,
I
swear.
I
know
Franny did
it.
She’s
small,
like
Tasmin,
while
I’m
a
bit
taller.
Anyway,
Mrs. Hobbs knows
me from
the market
and
town.”

Tasmin had
assumed
the
other
woman couldn’t
have
known
Bonny because
they
would
have been
parts
of
different
social
circles,
but
William seemed to be digesting this,
nodding to himself that it was likely.

“I
think
‘tis
time
I
started
thinking
more
like
a
mage
and
less
like
a woman,”
Tasmin
said
softly.
She
went
upstairs,
to
the
cupboard
where
she kept
her
supplies.
Ever
since
the
incident
with
the
dress
she
had
been
afraid to
leave
anything
of
value
in
her
room, especially
her
herbal
supplies.
She got
out
her
kit,
took
it
downstairs, and
placed
it
on
the
table.
She
opened the
latch
and
pushed
back
the
hinged
lid,
removing
the
plain,
white
glazed bowl
and
her
athame, and
then
pulled
on
the
small
brass
handles
on
the front,
which opened like double doors.
The bottom housed her mortar
and pestle,
which
she
took
out,
then
took
one
of
the
narrow
boxes
next
to
it,
its end
marked
R.
She
searched
through
the
shelves
above,
sliding
out
a
couple until
she
found
the
vials she
wanted.
She
dipped
the
bowl
into
the
water bucket and
set it in
the middle of the table.

“No,
I
won’t
do
this,”
Bonny
said,
getting
up.
The
spell
was
familiar to everyone in
the land,
the one spell that non-mages could recognize.

William took
her
arm
and
tugged
her
back
towards
the
table.
“Bonny, you need to know.”

“Eric is my true husband.
Your spell will trick
me.”

At t
he
very
bottom,
beneath
the
shelves
hidden
by
their
double
door,
were two
drawers.
One
held
more
roots
and
herbs
carefully
wrapped
separately; the
bottom
held
various kinds
of
stones.
She
placed
four
of
them,
one
for every
element,
around
the
bowl.
She
sang
the
ritual
then,
crushing
and adding
rosemary,
drops
of
rose
essence,
a
touch
of
sage,
and
a
little
salt.
She picked up the bowl and
whispered across
the su
r
face, turned it three times clockwise,
then
set
it
down.
She
took
Bonny’s hand
and
stabbed
the
ring finger quickly.
Three
drops
of
blood
swirled
into
nothing
with
the
motion of the bowl’s water. They waited for
the water to still, watching.

A
man
was
standing
on the
edge
of
a
roof.
He
was
looking
down,
down to the sharp edges of rock
that lined the bank
below.

“God,
no.”
William
whispered,
as
the
frail,
thin
man
with
his
thinning hair and his stooping shoulders shuffled
closer and closer to the edge.

At
long
last,
Andrew
Almsley—the
real
Andrew
of
the
House
of
Almsley— ripped
his
ring
from
his
finger and
threw
it,
as
hard
as
he
could,
towards the ocean,
and
then stepped back,
crumbling to his knees as he sobbed.

Bonny
stared
at
the
bowl,
her
jaw
slack.
William took
it
as
further evidence
that
his
sister
had
a
heart
of
ice
and
let
her
go,
stepping
back
away from her
with
disgust.
“I
will
go
to
him. And
as
far
as
I’m
concerned,
you can
go
to
hell,
milady.
You
will
not
find
help
here.”
He
grabbed
his
hat
off the counter.
“Tasmin,
I
shall see you at home when I
can.”

Bonny
jumped
a
little
when
she
heard
the
door
slam
against
the
frame, then looked at Tasmin,
obviously at a
complete loss.

“There
now,”
Tasmin
said,
stroking
her
arm
awkwardly. William
was too
protective
of
his
younger
brother
to
see
that
Bonny
was
just
beginning to understand that she had probably destroyed her life.

“I feel
as
if
... I
feel
as
if
... ”
her
face
remained
expressionless,
her
lips almost
matching
the
cream
of
her
complexion.
Tasmin took
the
bowl
and threw
the
contents
into
the
sink,
washing
it
with
care.
No
sense
staring at Andrew,
poor Andrew,
any
longer.

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