The Chocolatier's Wife (26 page)

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Authors: Cindy Lynn Speer

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

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I
a
m
unde
r
s
o
muc
h
worry
.
Whe
n
th
e
worr
y
ends
,
an
d
w
e
ar
e
bac
k
to
,
well
,
th
e
wa
y
thing
s
shoul
d
be
, I
wil
l
b
e
perfectl
y
abl
e
t
o
dea
l
wit
h
his family.

She shut
th
e
cupboar
d
f
irmly
.

“Afte
r
all
,
would-b
e
mage
s
goin
g
throug
h
th
e
angs
t
an
d
pai
n
o
f
tryin
g
t
o
gro
w
u
p
an
d
harnes
s
thei
r
powe
r
hav
e
nothin
g
ove
r
a
grou
p
o
f
snobbish
,
southern
,
priggis
h
..
.
merchanters.

Sh
e
sli
d
a
loo
k
aroun
d
th
e
roo
m
a
t
he
r
invisibl
e
friends
.
“Pleas
e
don’
t
tel
l
Willia
m
I
spok
e
so.”

With
that,
she
grabbed
her
cloak.
She
was
already
dressed
very
plainly. Like
every
other
lady
of
sense
she
had
pockets,
small
pouches
attached
to
a belt
and
tied
around
the
waist,
filled
with
the
things
she
would
need
for
her day. She
slipped
her
hands
into
the
slit
seam
in
her
dress
and made
sure she
had
her
tiny
knife,
the
one
she
used
for
pruning,
and
her
money
pouch. She
left
by
the
back
door,
which
opened
and
shut
wit
h
out
her
lifting
a
hand, and
went to the prison.

Once
there
,
she
forced
herself
to
be
nice
to
the
guards,
speaking
to
them for
a
few moments while she made a
point of hanging her cloak
next to the door.
She
was
ma
k
ing sure
that
both
the
men
present
knew
she
did
not have
a
basket, a
purse,
or
an
y
thing
that
might
be
remembered
later
when the authorities investigated.
If
either of them noticed that her hair,
even in its tight updo, was waving
in
an
unseen breeze, no
one said.

When
she
finally went
in
to
see
William,
he
was
buried
in
his
notes. Papers
were
spread
across
the
cot
he
was
sitting
on,
one
leg
on
the
cot,
one leg
on
the
floor.
He
looked
casual,
but
his
expression
was
intent,
and
he
did not
notice
her
as
she
laced
her
wrists
through
the
cell
bars, watching
him. “William?”

He
looked
up
and smiled
at
her, standing
carefully
so
as
not
to
disturb things. “You’re here early! I was just looking over my old ship ledgers; my brother brought them from the warehouse and I was hoping I could find something
of
use.”
He
bowed
when
he
reached
the
bars,
and
she
returned a
curtsey
that
made
the
sprite
sitting
on
her
shoulder
squeak
and
flutter
to rebalance itself. “Are you well?”

“Quite,
though
I
can’t stay
long,
and
you
shall
not
see
me
later.
I
don’t want
the
guards
to
think
I
had
time
to
pass
you
something
or
witch
the
bars or
whatever.”

His eyes narrowed.
“Miss Bey,
what are
you planning?”

“Nothing,
nothing,”
she
waved
her
hand
dismissively.
“Now,
I
am
going
to spend the day trying to find
some information. Where should I look?”

“I
certainly
do
not
wish
you
to
poke
around. I
couldn’t
stand
it
if
you got hurt.”

She nodded, as if he’d said something completely different. “You’re right.
I
shall
go
right
to
the
port
admiral
and
see
what
he
has
to
say
about all this.”

“Don’t you
dare.” His
eyes
turned
dark.
“Please,
don’t.
You
are
a
very clever pe
r
son,
but he is cunning and
he will trap you before you know
it.”

“Then to whom?
William,
please, give me something to do.”

“Andrew’s
promised
to
begin
speaking
with
people
today.
Meet
with
us for
dinner,
and
perhaps we can
think
of something.”

She shook
her head. “He won’t
be here, either.”

“Bloody ...
why not?”

“Business
doesn’t
come
to
a stand
still
just
because
a son
who
is
no longer impo
r
tant to it is in
jail,”
she said,
as if mimicking
someone.

“You sound as if you’ve
met my father.”

“Not had that
pleasure, no.”

“What
are
you
doing,
Tasmin?”
He
looked
into
her
eyes.
“You
have some
scheme
brewing,
and
I
won’t
take
no,
or
nothing, or
you’ll
see
don’t worry
for
an
a
n
swer.”

She
took
the
vibrating,
warm
puff
of
breeze
off
her
shoulder,
and
placed it next to his neck.
“Take
care of her,
she’s fragile.”

“What
is
she?”
he
asked,
his
eyes
widening.
If
Tasmin knew
Tatu,
she was now patting her small,
warm
hands along his jaw.

“A
friend.
Take
care,
William.
I
am
sorry
we
shall
not
see
each
other
for dinner.”

He
grabbed
her
hand.
“If
you
leave,
you
may
not
see
me
again.” For murders
of
this
nature,
the
prisoner
was
taken
to
the
court.
He
would
stay there
until
the
trial
was
over,
and
if
he
was
found
guilty,
it
would
be
straight to the gallows. They would never
have
another chance to speak again.

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