The Chocolatier's Wife (60 page)

“Bonny
would
have
a
fit. A
thousand
fits.
She
likes
her
new
life
far
too
well to go quietly.”

“Aye,
indeed.
‘Tis
why
I
think she
is
the
one
who
wrote
me
the
letter. She is in
good position to hear her husband’s plans,
after all.”

“Pray
do
not
be
cross
with
me,
but
would
framing
you
for
the
murder
ruin you sufficiently?”

He
shook his
head.
He
hated
that
she
thought
of
it,
but
loved
the thoroughness
with
which
she
thought.
“I
considered
that,
but
came
to
one simple
conclusion—killing
the
Bishop,
of
all
people,
would
be
the
worst business
move
my
father
could
make.
There
are
other
murders
I
could
have been
framed
for
that
would
have less
i
m
pact
on
the
trade
and
be
easier
to get me out of,
to the same effect.”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “So, we have to worry about finding the
mu
r
derer
and
keeping
the
shop
from
being
attacked
by
your
family. I doubt
they
will
give
up
the
battle
so
soon.”
Her
eyes
narrowed.
“I
can
take care of the latter. The sprites will protect their home fiercely,
but I know of a
few
nasty
cantrips
that
might
keep
anyone
from getting
too
determined about the place.”

For
a
second
she
looked
like
a
proper
hag,
and
he
remembered,
uneasily, the
rumors that
they
used
to
eat
their
dead.
“I
shan’t
even
try
to
open
the shop
again
until
we’ve
solved
the
mysteries.
After
all,
we
still
have
to
figure out what happened to your dress.”

“Perhaps
malice?
Your
family
does
not
much
care
for
me,
and
some may
even
be
a
bit
afraid of
me.
After
all,
the
North
and
the
South
have
a long
tradition
of
mistrust
since
the
war.
The
towers
are
still
up
along
the
border
between
our
lands,
and
even
though
we
pretend
not
to
man
them, we do.
Our traditions are
different, and
I
am
di
f
ferent.”

“I
think
that
there
is
something
that
smacks
of
more
than
malice,
dear. The foo
t
man who found your dress told me that Cecelia found the dress form,
and
that it was stabbed through the heart.”

“How
I wish
you’d
both
forget
about
the
dummy
having
been
stabbed. The
dress
was
on
the
dummy,
of
course
it
got
stabbed.
The
dress
was
sheet covered,
next
to
a
window.
I
may
be
odd
looking,
but
really, no
one
would confuse me for
a
headless dummy.”

“But
my
dear, the
dress
was
shredded,
and
it
must
have been
here
... unless there were a
lot of pearls in
your room,
as well?”

“Only a
few.” She admitted with reluctance.

“But the only mark
on
the form
was the stab mark
over
the heart.”

“Do
you
think
that
it
was
done
in
a
fit
of
pique,
and
then
the
actual
shredding of the dress to cover
it up?”

“Well,
someone was certainly displeased, yes.”

She
sighed.
“I just
wish
they’d
not
taken
it
out
on my
dress.
I
could have
defended myself.”

He
shivered,
but
didn’t
say
anything
about
that.
“We
shall
get
to the
bottom
of
things,”
he
said.
“But
you
must
allow
Cecelia
to
sleep
in
your room.
She will gladly do so,
I
think.”

“Of
course
,
”
s
he
said.
“I do
not
wish
to
sleep
alone
if
someone
is
prone to attacking dress dummies. Who
knows
what they might do next?”

Chapter
1
8

Jarien
fourth, Sapphire Moon Quarter 1790

William,

You are
not the
only
one
who
hears
tales
of
the
Pandora.
My students can
speak
of
little else;
they
all know a
cousin of
a
cousin or a
friend of
a
friend who
has
seen
her,
and
tell tales
of
shroud- black
sails and
the
screams of
the
doomed souls who
sail her. These
stories I
pay
no
mind to,
but the
stories I
do hear,
and
with worry, are
the
ones
of
people
who
have
actually
encountered
her.
I
am more convinced
that
a
weather-witch
is at
work on
her decks,
but weather
witches
of
any
real power are
a
thing
of myth—you
hear
of
women who
could command the
tides with a wiggle
of
their toes,
the
wind by
combing
their hair,
but as
far
as I
know those
women of
power died years
ago.

Still, I
would feel
better
to know that
you
are
drinking the moly tea
I
sent
you.
I
know it tastes a
bit like onions,
but it will diffuse
any
magic
spells sent
directly at
you.

Yours,
eventually
,

Tasmin

The
day
started
vile
and
was
not
getting
b
etter. Tasmin
had
tried
to
sneak
off
to
see
William, but
was stopped
by
an
invitation
from
the
Dragon
Lady,
who
was
dete
r
mined
that
on
such
a
rainy,
miserable
day,
her
present
and
future daughters
and
she
herself
would
spend
the
time
in
the
parlor
sewing
or “occupying
themselves
in
a
similarly
appropriate
fashion.”
Herself
was
not at all for
small talk,
and
the hours were passed in
silence.

When
Tasmin
received
a
summons
from
Eric
Lavoussier, she
was
not sure
if
she
was
pleased
or
frightened.
A
carriage
had
been
sent,
and so
she had no
choice but to leave immediately.