The Chocolatier's Wife

by Cindy Lynn Speer

  The Pandora Chase. Everything came back to the Pandora Chase.

  Chapter 16

  Setemerio eleventh, Scarlet Moon Quarter 1789

  William,

  It could be that the captain of the Pandora has some sort of weather charm that is making it possible for him to keep the winds in his favor. Do not, I beg, ask a weather-witch for help against this. Though some are good and have dedicated their lives to protect towns that might otherwise be destroyed by the cruelty of the sea, some are, like all men and women, cruel in their hearts, and the price they will ask of you will be greater than you can bear. Instead I send what charms I can, and hope that if you encounter her, it will be enough.

  Yours, eventually,

  Tasmin

  Everything, Tasmin thought, comes back to the Pandora chase. Well, maybe not quite, but the picture was too neat: the victim, the supposed killer, and the investigator had all been present during the Chase. Both the shop and the Bishop’s home had been searched, and her own room attacked. She wasn’t counting her poor dress when she thought of this, but the fact that the drawer with all of William’s childhood clothes was now empty.

  She took from her case a medium-sized, richly carved wooden box that William had sent her early in his travels, and began removing, carefully, bundles of letters from it. Every so often she had tied them together with ribbons, separating them by voyage. She laid them out in order on the bedspread, a task that took her longer than she meant it to since she stopped to dwell over her favorites, even when they were not related. I wonder if I am disappointed in my expectations? she wondered as she carefully refolded one that she had re-read the most often. He both is and is not the same man I had in my head from these letters.

  Finally, she got to what he called the Pandora Chase.

  “Miss Tasmin!” Cecelia ran into the room. “Ah, thank God.”

  Tasmin blinked at this sudden appearance, and then smiled. “How did you manage to sneak in? Finally, something good comes out of this day!”

  Cecelia moved some of the letters and sat down, panting. “Your William managed everything. He can be quite demanding, when he wishes to be.” She must have seen that Tasmin did not care for this, for she said, “Ah, do not let the pleasure fall from your eyes, he is a good man, you will be very happy.” She leaned against the footboard, looking pale.

  “What is it? Did you find my dress?” Tasmin smoothed the letter on her lap to belie her uneasiness.

  “I have decided that I will never leave your side. I am your constant companion, your surrogate husband, your guardian angel, at least if William is not available to be with you.” She nodded, looking where the dress had stood.

  “That is very kind of you.”

  “Indeed it is, but my pleasure.”

  “But why would you suddenly feel such a need to do so?”

  “It could be because I like you.” She gave Tasmin a sweet smile.

  “I know you do. You like everyone. But now, stow the nonsense and tell me what it is that has you pale and frightened?”

  She reached forward and took Tasmin’s hand. “I found the display stand you rented. It will need repaired. It has been stabbed, most cruelly, though the heart.”

  Tasmin rolled her eyes.

  “No! Listen, someone means harm. They probably thought that the dummy was you, and stabbed you.”

  “A dummy with no head? Mistaken as me? Well, I am not quite sure what to make of that comment.”

  This gave Cecelia pause, but she tossed her head. “I am not taking chances.”

  “Then read.” She pointed to the pile. “We are looking for connections to what is happening now. What was it the Pandora held that was so valuable? What did it mean to the Bishop, to Lavoussier, to William?”

  “Why do you not ask him yourself? I am sure he would be very happy to answer.”

  “He was, not, in fact, willing to answer. He said he never knew. But I think he did. Look, here, it says the Bishop told him it was very dangerous. I know William. He doesn’t go haring off after a ship that has a quarter more guns and another deck on him without a more compelling reason than it has something dangerous aboard.”

  Cecelia’s eyes flickered. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Your William could be unpredictable. He went after a group of slavers, once, with only a handful of men. Tracked them through the forest of Gibbia for days.”

  “What did he do with the slavers?”

  She shrugged. “Killed them, like the dogs they were. It was a terrible slaughter. Me, he bought because he had no choice in the matter. I think he would have killed the men who held me, as well, but he was outnumbered greatly, so he bargained instead.”

  “He bought you?”

  Cecelia shrugged and nodded.

  “So ... he bought you to get out of a situation?” Tasmin frowned.

  “No, he went into the situation so he could buy me. A terribly good negotiator, your husband; he can be ruthless when he wants. I admire him immensely for it. But it does not mean that he has been ... or ever will be ... a cautious man.”

  “You told me you were a storyteller. So tell me. Tell me how you met my husband and how he came to purchase you.”

  “You do not have to say the word with such disgust. ‘Tis not as if he ever meant to keep me.”

  But she relented, and this is what she said:

  “The first time I saw William Almsley, I thought he was a monster from my worst nightmares, one of the evil spirits that haunt my homeland. He could have easily passed for Akima, the Revenger, the Destroyer.

  “A few days earlier, my village had been attacked by Shronese raiders. The raiders had us, at least thirty, bound together; our feet free so that they could herd us to the coast and their ship. It was late, and they had bound us in groups to different trees, placing a few indifferent guards who would strike any that made the smallest sound. I was afraid to close my eyes, so I lay on the ground and stared at the fire. At first I thought sleep had forced itself upon me, for suddenly I saw a man next to the fire, wielding an axe with ruthless efficiency. He killed three of the sleepers before the alarm sounded, and soon he was joined by others. When his axe stuck in the body of one of the raiders, he picked up a sword and continued to fight. He did not have any grace when he fought, and he did not fight fair.

  “The fighting slowed and he looked at us. I swear he looked directly at me, bloody and gold in the firelight. I pushed back against my fellow captives in fear. It seemed to make him stop, and he looked at his sword, then back, and then gestured at one of his men to free us.

  “It was then that the leader of the raiders was brought to him.

  “‘Give me the password,’ he said, resting the point of the sword against the other man’s throat. His voice carried, calm and controlled.

  “They exchanged unpleasantries, and finally, the leader said, ‘What will you give me?’

  “‘I won’t kill you.’ William lifted the sword away, and the leader gave him the safe word. I did not understand what it was, and he never told me. He walked away, and one of the other men killed the leader.

  “He walked past me. The main ropes had been cut free, so I could stand and walk, but my wrists were still bound.

  ““You said... ’ I began.

  “’I could argue that I said I, personally, would not kill him, but that’s just semantics.’ He came over reluctantly and took out a small knife and started sawing through my ropes. ‘I don’t suppose, after this experience, you would accept an outsider’s word, anyway.’ The rope fell free. ‘Wiggle your fingers, too, don’t just rub your wrists. When you can, take this knife, start freeing the rest. We’ll get you back to your village.’

  “When he had made good on his promise, I found my family was dead. There was nothing left for me, nothing at all, so I married his first mate, whose speech was filled with flowery promises of a comple
tely new and brilliant life that lay for me across the sea. I came because it was a life that I could have, and because I wanted to see snow. I came because no one else will reward William, even though it was he who led without thinking to free people he had no reason to care about, and perhaps someday I will be able to do something for him that will make up for it.”

  Tasmin chewed on the edge of her thumb until Cecelia gently took her hand away and forced it down on her lap.

  “Ladies of worth do not have bloody thumbs,” she said.

  “But how did he come to buy you?”

  Cecelia blushed. “We were at port a few weeks later, and I got kidnapped. I was told not to go off the ship, but I thought my husband was being a bully. William went after me, bought me back himself, not knowing if any of those men would recognize him from some battle and decide to get even. He made a lot of enemies among the pirates because twice, when the Navy was not around, and a ship was being attacked by pirates, he interfered. He always said he only ever had to do what must be done. And that, in truth, is why I feel like I owe him my life.”

  “So you’re telling me that my husband-to-be is savage and foolhardy?”

  “No, I would never use those words to describe him, and neither should you. I am saying that he is ruthless and direct and that sometimes he can be utterly without caution. His whole family is. You are protected from the worst of it because you are his intended, but there is no such affection to stop the rest of the family from doing whatever they desire to you.” She looked again at the place where the dummy had stood. The shroud that had covered the dress was folded over a chair.

  Tasmin looked out the window. She fancied she could see the mountains of her home. “This is not exactly a comfortable situation to be in. So much is unknown.”

  “It still would be, even if he were to court you like they do in the stories of my people. You never know what you will get until it is too late.” Her lips twisted wryly.

  “I could go home. He told me to go home.”

  “We could, I have always wanted to see the North.”

  “Then why do I stay?” She put some of the letters back in the box. She kept seeing him the way Cecelia had first seen him. He’d gone after the raiders with an axe. While they were sleeping. If Lavoussier knew of this, if the court knew of this, no one would ever believe William incapable of murdering the Bishop. But that was a silly thought to be upset over. After all, she knew he had killed men.

  “Because he is yours.”

  Such a simply stated fact, as if Cecelia had told her that the sky was blue.

  “I do not think he wants me. I think he feels as if I have forced myself upon him.” She did not know if she was searching for an excuse, or if she really felt this was the case, and was sorry for it.

  Cecelia tsked. “Do not be a silly woman.”

  Tasmin slid her a look; she had been expecting her to reassure her that William indeed wanted her.

  “Who cares if he wants you or not?” the other woman declared. “If you want him, take him. He is yours by right, no one else can have him, so ‘tis not like you are fighting other women.”

  “That sounds rather depressing, make him mine because he has no choice in the matter?”

  Now Cecelia rolled her eyes. “You and he both overthink things. You shall never have children, because you will overthink every emotion, every move, so much that you will be barren for years before you even get around to child-making. What could be does not matter. What is, that is all that matters.”

  Tasmin smiled, refused to admit the other woman was right, and went back to reading the letters. She did not get very far, for a servant interrupted them. “Mistress Bonny Almsley to see you, Miss Bey.”

  “Of course. I shall see her directly.” She placed a hand on Cecelia’s shoulder. “Pray, stay here and keep reading. I shall see what she wants. She is my sister-in-law, after all.”

  “And someone who hated your dress,” Cecelia rejoined, and settled back with, “May I take this letter with me? I wish to ask William what exactly he means by ‘she takes things far too lightly.’”

  Tasmin took the letter from her. “How far did you get in that letter?”

  “Just to there. I want to see what else he has to say about me!”

  “Nothing much; after all, he was speaking about a beautiful woman to his intended. And later the letter gets a bit ... ah ... intimate, so perhaps you should do something else.”

  Cecelia’s eyes narrowed, and Tasmin left the room quickly, managing to get to the parlor without getting lost. The main house’s parlor was like the rest of the house, a little too exquisite and a little too large. Just as well I shan’t be moving in someday, it simply isn’t my sort of thing. ‘Tis just too much. William and I would be moving to one corner and sealing the rest of the house off. I far like the coziness of the apartments above the shop better. The ladies curtsied to each other, and then they both sat.

  “My, don’t you look like you belong!” Bonny said brightly, her tone just a tiny bit ironic. For the first time Tasmin began to wonder if the other woman might not have a bit of malice in her. After all, they both knew that the inheritance system was a bit like promotion in a concern; when one of the parents passed on, especially if it was the male parent, the inheritors would move from their humble but lovely little home in the shadow of the main house, and into the main house proper. If by that time there were no heirs to move into the abandoned smaller house, if Bonny had no son that would then take over the business, William and Tasmin might be offered the now empty house, but she already knew William would be against it. Too much in the shadow of the larger place, figuratively as well as in truth. Why remind me that when I look around, I should think that if my husband had chosen differently I might be considering this place mine? She pushed it aside and smiled back.

  “Where is our dear mamma?” Bonny asked pleasantly.

  “She is off visiting. She should be back tonight, if you wish to see her?”

  “That gorgon? Why should I? I just wondered if we would be free to speak.” Bonny moved so that she and Tasmin were seated closer together, and took the other woman’s hand. “Where you come from, you’re considered a bit of a hag, yes?”

  “I am a trained herb-mage, yes ... hag is not completely accurate... ”

  “But you work magic? You might be willing to help me?” Bonny’s eyes looked desperate, and Tasmin felt uncomfortable.

  “Certainly—if I can. What is it?”

  “I need a baby, most desperately. Do you have any spells that might help? Make me more fertile?”

  “Bonny,” she said gently. “Women always assume immediately that it is their fault if a baby doesn’t come, but it could as easily be his fault as yours, and if I try and find a spell for you, then you are being put at risk when he might be the cause.”

  “It’s me,”’ she said, flatly. “So you only have to worry about curing me.”

  She thought to ask how Bonny could possibly know that, but let it pass. “I will consider on it, sister, but I must warn you. There are no easy solutions to your troubles. Perhaps none at all, for no one wants to tempt fate too much.”

  “Being an Almsley,” Bonny said, “is all about tempting fate.”

  Tasmin did not hear. She was looking out the window. The main parlor was situated with windows that looked out into the back garden, and coming up the path, hurrying, was a young man holding a ball of familiar white cloth.

  Chapter 17

  Naverro 28th, Sclt. Mn. Qtr. 1789

  Tasmin

  The weather charm has already proved its worth. We hit an unnatural storm that set us aback. The waves almost rolled us over, but with some handy work on the part of the mates we were able to sail her back upright, then get into the heart of the storm, where it was not quite so terrible. We sailed in her heart until she blew herself out, a feat I believe could n
ot have been achieved without the present you recently made for me.

  We have not seen the Pandora, but we have heard much of her, and seen the wreckage she leaves in her wake. In three weeks’ time we will finally reach land, and will be able to proceed up the coast to the port where we make the most important and expensive delivery of the voyage. My heart will rest easier when I no longer have the valuables in my care. Until then, I shall pass this letter to a courier ship heading homeward, and hope this letter finds you safe and sound.

  Yours,

  William

  The dress had been lying at the bottom of the garden, jammed under the marble bench, tangled in the bush that made a sort of wall behind it. William brought it out himself, mindful of the branches that would make the tears worse, though when he lay the dress out on the bench any such fears seemed a cruel joke. It wasn’t stained, aside from dirt and some grass, but someone had taken a sharp blade to it, rending it in tatters. One of the servants, the young footman who had found it, was waiting nearby. “Put it in a box, if you would. And quickly. I do not wish her to see it, I think. Not yet.”

  The man nodded and folded it up, bunching it against his chest as he went to the house.

  William sighed and knelt down, picking up pearls. The worst of the work must have been done here, away from the room and discovery. It took him a long time, but he worked patiently from one end of the area to another. They were tiny, but it felt important.

  “Looking for clues?” Her voice was dry, though slightly pained. Her hair was down, and the wind (un-augmented by sprites for once) blew the soft tangled coils of it. Her hands were folded over her waist, and she looked sad but serene in her sorrow.

  “Well, not really.” He gave her a half smile and held up a hand full of tiny seed pearls. Many were already in his pocket. She knelt near him, and looked down at the grass. He watched her hands fold themselves neatly on her lap, every move delicate and in control.