The Chocolatier's Wife (40 page)

She
snorted
and allowed
herself
to
be
led
along
the
street.
“We
shall see.”
She
was
ready
for
a
change
of
subject,
so
she
said,
“I
though
we
were meeting at the shop.”

“As
if
I
would
allow
you
to
wander
the
streets
at
night
unaccompanied.” He looked at her sidelong, and said, “And don’t roll your eyes; ‘tis not ladylike.”

She
settled
for
a
humph, then.
“Well,
are
we
just
out
for
a
moonlight stroll,
or
shall we make
plans?”

“Ah,
but I’ve
a
plan already.
Quite a
good one,
in
fact.”

He
held
her
in
suspense
as
he
helped
her
avoid
an
icy
puddle.
They joined
the
crowd
walking
down
the
main
street.
The
shops
were
closed, but
the
torch
lighters,
who
had
spent
all
day
heating
torch
coals
in a
forge, had
taken
their
nightly
stroll
a
l
ready,
filling each
street
lamp
basket
with the
bright
stones
that
would
light
the
night
until
past
midnight.
In
larger cities,
the
torch
lighters
would
come
out
again
then,
with
a
new
iron
wagon of coals and
replace them, but not here.

Many
people
were
gathered
around
the
iron
posts,
warming
their
hands on
them.
The
coals
acted
like
small
furnaces, so
that,
near
them,
the
cold was
not
so
bitter.
In
the
morning,
the
coals
would
be
collected,
the
cracked ones
crushed
and
used
as
fuel,
the
ones
that
survived the
night
thrown
in the forge to be rolled and
heated again.

“Well?”
she
asked,
realizing
he
was
not
continuing.
“Allow
me
in
on your myst
e
rious secret?”

“We
are
going
to
visit
the
scene
of
the
crime.
This
time
of
night,
the
only person
in
the
Bishop’s house
is
his
old
housekeeper.
She
knows
me
and
I think
she
quite
likes
me.
She
is
a
bit
lonely
for company,
so
I
thought
we’d pay her a
visit.”

“And
I
keep
her
company
while
you
excuse
yourself
and
take
a
look around?
Why
do
I
have
to
be
the
one
to
sit
and
nod
politely
while
my
soul slowly withers away with boredom?”

“Because
I’m
the
man. That means
that
I
get
to
do
all
the
interesting things.
‘Tis
what my sister-in-law always says,
at any
rate.”

“Finally, words
of
wisdom
from
that
quarter! Who
would
have thought?”

“That
is
rather
surprisingly
sharp,”
he
said,
without
judgment
in
his tone.
“What
has
dear
Bonny
done
to
offend
you?
Ah,
let’s
cross
this
bridge; it
will
take
us
to
our
destination
faster.”
They
would
have
to
go
around the
lamp
post
and
up
the
ramp leading
to
the
bridge,
but
instead
William picked
her
up
by
her
waist
and
lifted
her
over
the
knee
high
wall
and
onto
the
pathway.
“I
hope
I
shan’t
get
in
trouble—a
past
suspect
taking
a
look around—but it can’t
be helped.”

“She
wants
to
burn
my
dress,”
she
burst
out,
sensing
that the
topic
was less than
interesting to him.
Pity that,
for
she had no
one else to talk
to.

“Eh?”
He
looked
at
her.
“There’s
not
enough
light
to
really
see,
but
if
‘tis the
one
from
earlier,
the
dress
is
nice
enough,
certainly
not
ready
to
be burned.”

“No,
not
this!
My
wedding
dress.
My
family’s
wedding
dress.”
She
had explained to him
the concept, so she hoped he recalled the importance.

He
frowned,
then
gently
steered
her
so
that
she
was
closer
to
the
wall
of the bridge, and
therefore safer.
“Is
it decent?”

“Decent?”

“Ah.
Does it ...
cover?
Everything?”

She
stopped,
glaring
at
him.
“Do
I
look
like
the
type
of
woman
who
would wear som
e
thing that did not ...
cover
...
everything at my own wedding?”

“Ah,
answers
that,
then.”
He
took
her
arm
again
and
tugged
her
forward. “I
just
don’t
understand
what
she’s
on
about.
If
it
fits
you,
if
you
like
it,
then as far
as I’m
concerned you may
wear it.”

“Oh.
Thank
you,
very
much.”
Her
tone
let
him
know
she
did
not
feel
the need for
his permission in
how she dressed herself.

“You rolled your eyes again.”

“I
most certainly did not.”

“I
heard
it
in
your
voice. In
any
rate,
I
am
certain
you
will
be
lovely
as ever.
Now,
look
to
the
right.
That
is
where
we
are
going. Is
it
not
a
pretty little place?”

“It
is.
Very
well
favored.” It
was,
all
neatly
trimmed
stone,
with
white framed
wi
n
dows,
but
still
it
seemed
a
little
sad,
a
little
dreary,
for while
all the
windows
in the
neighboring
houses
had
lights
that
burned
cheerfully, only
one
could
be
seen
bur
n
ing
here.
William
pulled
the
bell
chain
and waited
by
the
wrought
iron
gate,
his
hand
curving over
a
curlicue
of
iron vine.