The Chocolatier's Wife (72 page)

H
e
beame
d
a
t
her
.
“Exactly
.
Cecelia
,
pleas
e
giv
e
m
y
lad
y
her
e
a
cu
p
of chocolat
e
an
d
a
piec
e
o
f
you
r
mind
.
Sh
e
coul
d
us
e
both.
”
H
e
tippe
d
hi
s
hat an
d
wen
t
inside
,
whil
e
Ceceli
a
glare
d
a
t
her.

Tasmin
snatched
up
the
cup
and
ladled
herself
some.
“Well,
don’t
look at
me
like
that. I’m
the
...
the
...
mistress
of
this
business.
I
suppose.”
She sniffed
and
looked
out
into
the
street.
“If
I
decide
I
need
some
time
alone,
I am
perfectly within my rights.”

“Hold
that
thought.
I
need
to
get
a
slip
of
paper
and
write
it
down, so when
Wi
l
liam needs
to
know
what
to
engrave
on
your
tombstone,
he
can use that.”

The two wom
e
n
exchanged glares.

“I
go
where
I
choose,”
Tasmin
said,
and
then
she
drank
again.
“But
next time I’ll
tell you.”

Cecelia
wrinkled
her
nose
and
shrugged.
“You’re
letting
me
do
your
hair for
the
ball
tonight,”
she
demanded.
“Not
that
whey-faced
privy watcher your sister has.”

“Well,
I
am
not
certain
if
William would
consider
that
part
of
your duties,”
she
said
wryly.
“In
any
matter,
you
might
actually
make
my
hair
pretty.
She
would
probably
find a
way
to
accidentally
cut
it
off.
Or
at
least
scorch it something terrible.”

Cecelia
served
another
couple,
and
then
looked
up
at
the
clock. “I
am only
out
here
for
another
few
minutes.
William’s
giving
the
chocolate
away for
an
hour,
hoping
to
build
goodwill,
he
said,
but
I
think
he
just
wanted
to do something nice for
the chi
l
dren.”

See?
Not
at
all
the
vicious
murderer.
Take
that,
Lavoussier.
“I
shall
see you inside, then.”

She
went
inside
where
it
was
welcomingly
warm
and
sweet
smelling.
A bell
on
the
door,
looking
like
a
miniature
ship’s
bell,
rang
prettily.
She
stood on
tiptoe
and
read
the
name
on
it
...
Pandora
.
She
rolled
her
eyes
and shut
the
door
firmly,
making
her
way
to
the
back.
William
had
food
waiting, not
chocolate,
but
meat
pasties
and
what
smelled
like
spiced
cider. “Ayers brought
enough
for
all.
Cecelia
said
you
would
get
here
eve
n
tually,
which is
why
I
didn’t
chase
her
off
to
find you,”
William
said
absently,
marking his books.

“You
received
my
note,
I
trust?”
she
asked.
“The
Bishop
was
killed
some other way.”

“That
was
a
stroke
of
brilliance
on
your
part,
Tasmin.
Now
if
we
could only
figure out
who,
and
why,
life
would
be
perfect.”
He
smiled
up
at
her, then
dipped
the
quill
again as
he
went
back to
his
writing.
She
took
one
of the
pasties
and
sat
down, che
w
ing
thoughtfully.
Ayers
was
gone,
Cecelia busy, even the sprites were silent, gone to play in
the snow.

“Even
so,
the
evidence
points
to
you.
According
to
Lavoussier, the Bishop
was
considering
repossessing
this
place.
Also, your
brother
noted that
the
person
who
brokered
the
deal
between
you
and the
Bishop, Terrence
Derbyshore,
doesn’t exist.
I
wonder
if
your
brother
ever
traced that. I
thought
he
would,
but
he
dropped
the
inve
s
tigation
the
second Franny
Harker
allowed her confession to be bought.”

He
looked
up
at
her,
slowly,
and
met
her
eyes.
He
made
her
feel
as
if
she had
plunged
a
blade
deep
into
his
heart,
and
he
shook
his
head
slightly,
and said.
“It
sounds
as
if
your
belief
in
my
evidence
is
slipping.
Are
you
going to ask
me,
then?”

“What?
William,
I
was just thinking
out loud.”

“But you want to ask
if I
did it,
don’t
you?”

She
looked
away,
ripping
off
a
piece
of
burnt
crust.
“It’s
what
Lavoussier
wanted
me
to
ask
you.”
She
brushed
her
fingers off
and
reached
over
to touch
his
cheek.
“Oh,
William, do
not
look
so.”
But
he
avoided
her
touch neatly, disguising it by standing up.

“How accommodating of you.” He smiled tightly. “Of course, you are right. The
ev
i
dence
against
me
is
quite
overwhelming.
You
were
bound
to start wondering som
e
time; I simply took your belief in me for granted.”

She
certainly
had
not
meant
this
as
he
was
taking it.
“It
is
what Lavoussier would
have
everyone
believe.
I
spent
quite
a
bit
of
time
with him
yesterday.
Not
as
much
as
Bonny did,
but
enough
to
know
he
doesn’t care for
the truth,
only that you are
the one blamed.”

“He’s
doing
a
good
job,”
William
observed
levelly.
“To
get
you
to
conduct his interr
o
gations.”