The Chocolatier's Wife

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Authors: Cindy Lynn Speer
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths
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the bars and grabbed her arm, stopping her. He tugged her closer.
    “Tasmin. No. I appreciate the thought, but consider. You’ll be cheating yourself. Cheating yourself out of your wedding day, cheating yourself out of being able to run. If you wed me, and I am executed, what will that do to you?”
    “It will hardly do anything to me.” She shrugged slightly. “I shall just continue with the shop, as a constant reminder to them of how they wronged us. Or I shall go home.”
    “Your ... what is it called, Council of the Sphere? Is that what they call the leaders of your mages? That avenue will be closed to you. All you will be is a professor teac h ing people who don’t really want to know how to use herbs, and I know from your le t ters you do not care much for that life.”
    “I will find something else.” The truth was, the wife of an executed murderer wouldn’t be allowed to teach. “I don’t want to miss my wedding, either, but we must think of the practical issues, here.”
    He stepped back. “I will not trap you.” End of the matter, his stance said. But to Tasmin, it was a challenge.
    “I am only an effective tool if you allow me to be. I’ve spoken to people all morning. They won’t let me do this or that because I am not your wife.”
    “Most of those very things can be done by my brother.”
    “Ah.”
    “And what does that mean?”
    “It means I understand and am letting the subject drop,” she said, a little sharper than she intended to.
    “I see.”
    “It’s not like I was trying to push you into matrimony. I do not wish to force you into something you obviously find utterly repugnant,” she said, feeling a little peevish.
    “Of course not,” he said, looking annoyed. Not overly, but in his eyes she could see something.
    “It’s not like I’m dying with love for you,” she said, unable to shut up, pride-stung.
    “Of course not, how could you?” It was a simple statement, but something of it smacked of sarcasm.
    “As you so keenly pointed out, I had my own life that I was living; I certainly was not waiting on you.”
    “And you certainly do not need my troubles,” he snapped back, sounding a little strained. Another second, she realized, and they’d be yelling at each other like fools.
    “Well.” She shook her skirts again. “If you determine a way I can be of service, please feel free to call upon me.”
    “Oh, Tasmin.” He sighed and leaned his head against the bars. “I just wish to be out.”
    She looked away, clearing her throat, trying to calm herself. She didn’t understand any of her thoughts at the moment. It all seemed so stupid and pointless. There was a tug at her hair, and she jumped.
    He was twining a bit of her hair around his fingers. “The second I’m free, truly free—of this place, of suspicion—I am going to marry you. I’m useless at cake-baking, but I know an icing recipe that I’ve saved for the occasion.”
    She started to smile, but instead she snorted softly. “You don’t see me holding my breath. I’m in no hurry for that day to come.”
    “Perhaps not, but I am. I am ready for it; I’ve been ready to be your husband for a very long time. I just wanted to be set up; I wanted to know I could give you a good life. As far as I’ve ever been concerned, the spell picked exactly the right woman for me. I never want you to doubt that.”
    She looked at him again, her lips parting. “You are not a man of spoken sentiment, I know that well. William, what do you know? Did they tell you something terrible?”
    He shook his head slightly. “Listen.” The bells were ringing, hard. They were being rung out of time, and sounded garish. The prison guards opened the door and came down the corridor.
    “No,” she said.
    “Hush.” William went over to the other cell wall. “Goodbye, old man.” The lead guard stopped at the neighboring door and eased the mad man out, into the corridor, and away. “At least he won’t know what hit him, not

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