The Chocolatier's Wife (36 page)

Bonny
blinked.
“‘Tis
pretty
enough,
aye,
but
it
quite
looks
its
age!
While I
respect
the
idea
of
a
family
dress,
and
think
it
quite
quaint that
...
what was
it
that
you
told
me?
That
the
ghosts
of
the
mothers
who
wore
this
dress look
after
their
daughters
and
help
assure
a
good
start
to
their
marriage...is
rather
sweet,
I
am
not
sure
that
it
is
entirely
the
thing,
you
know? Perhaps
we
can
start
a
new
family
dress.
I
mean,
surely,
this
isn’t
the
only wedding dress your family has ever had.”

“No,
indeed,
but
that
one
was
burnt
in
a
castle
fire,
and
replaced
by this
one.”
Tasmin
decided
not
to
try
and
explain
the
concept,
that
it
wasn’t
the ghost
of
the
pr
e
vious
wearers
that
haunted
the
dress,
but
their
energy.
Their happiness,
their
hope,
their
determination.
These
things
would
strengthen the bride who wore it,
and
would help the marriage
begin well.

“Fire.
Indeed.
That’s a
solution,”
Bonny muttered
as
she
bent
over
to inspect the hem.

“It looks better on,
I
assure you,” she said with a
bit of grit in
her teeth.

“No
one
disputes
that
it’s
a
very
pretty
dress.
I
doubt
anyone
could
afford
to
purchase
that
much
silver
and
pearl
decoration
anymore,
but
sweetheart, it
belongs
in
a
m
u
seum,
where
people
can
go
and
gather
around
it
and
sigh and
say,
‘Well,
they
don’t
make
dresses
like
that
anymore, do
they?’
or,
‘I wish I
could wear a
dress like that.’”

Tasmi
n
trie
d
t
o
brea
k
i
n
t
o
mak
e
a
poin
t
o
n
this
,
bu
t
Bonn
y
wave
d
i
t
off
.

“No
one
means
it,
you
know.
No
one
would,
really,
if
they
had
a
choice. They would rather
wear what everyone else wears.” She smiled brightly, as if this was a
good thing.

“Why
is
it
so
desirable
that
we
all
wear
the
same
thing?”
Tasmin
wasn’t being der
i
sive; she never bothered with derisive questions, for they only provoked arguments
and
were
a
waste
of
time.
She
genuinely
wanted
to understand,
hoping
for
insight
into
this
new
culture.
Perhaps
marrying in
the
family
dress,
which
she
had
dreamed
of
doing
for ages,
would
be
a disastrous move?

“Not
the
same
thing, silly.
The
same
style.
Generally.”
A
huge
sigh escaped
her,
as
if
the
situation
was
completely
hopeless.
“I
know what
we shall
do.
We
shall
go
to
the
Crown
market
and
take
a
look
around. Come, now, I
shall
show
you
a
few
things
and
we
can
discuss
what
to
do.”
She tugged
on
Tasmin’s sleeve.
“And
we
can
buy
som
e
what
for
your
hair.
You will
have
to
get
ribbons,
and
perhaps
some
flowers, and
something
with
a bit of sparkle.”

Tasmin
rolled
her
eyes.
In
the
corner
a
dresser’s
dummy
stood.
Tasmin had
rented
it
from
the
dressmaker
a
few
stores
down
from
William’s
shop (about the only thing she had accomplished during her attempts at finding information
was
to
get
the
dressmaker
to
send
an
old
form
over
to
her house),
and
she
would
use
it
to
fit the
dress
to
herself,
for
she
would
not allow
anyone
else
to
do
so.
“Wait
for
a
moment. You
may
not
like
it,
but
I am
going
to
put
it
on
the
form
before
I
go.
At
least
I
can
enjoy
the
display
of it before you talk
me into something else.”

Bonny smiled
and
helped
her,
even
lacing
the
back
up
and
placing
the sleeves
just
so,
which
Tasman
would
not
have
bothered
with.
As
Bonny pulled
the
shift
through
the
slashes
in
the
sleeves,
she
said,
“See?
It
would be
to
die
for
in
a
museum,”
and
Tasmin stuck
her
tongue
out,
then
gently draped the sheet over it, and they finally
left.

Chapter
13

Ferou 24
th
,
Sphr.
Mn.
Qtr. 1788

Tasmin,

This
will be
the
last letter I
send
from your shores;
my business has
been
completed and
as
I
write I
am watching
a large
quantity of
ice
being
packed
into my
hold.
From here
I shall
go
further North,
then
East,
until I
bear
around to the
plains of
Selou,
where
we
hope
that
the
weather
is still holding cool,
to deliver this burden straight to the
cap
i
tal.
With
that
neat sum in the
ship’s coffers
we
shall
pick
up a
few
more things
and head
straight home.
I
shall
only
be
there
a
fortnight
before
I begin
my
travels again.
Perhaps
then
I
shall
have
more exciting things
to relay,
but until then
I
am sure that
you
will have
many adventures of
your own.
You must tell them
to me;
‘tis only
fair.

Yours,

William

He
had
managed
to
maintain a
good
mood.
Positive,
even,
through accusations of madness when he left the family business, through imprisonment
for
murder,
and
through
a
lecture
from
his
father
and
then from his
mother
about
the
relative
merits
of
putting
off
his
wedding
yet again
until
he
got
his
things
in
order
and
the
mess
was
forgotten
by
all.
Even when
he
realized
his
father
had
bought
him an
out,
William
had
remained optimistic.