Andrea Penrose - The Cocoa Conspiracy

Saybrook’s scowl deepened as he plunged the poker into the hearth and stirred the coals to life. “ If it was an accident,” he muttered. After seeing her to the safety of their carriage, he had returned to the grounds for a quick surveillance. “Steuer’s foreman was adamant that all possible precautions had been taken around that section of the fireworks. He’s known as a stickler for safety and claims that it would have taken an act of God to set off the canisters of gunpowder.”

“Or a far less Divine Being.”

Their eyes met over her mug.

“You noticed nothing suspicious in the area?” he asked after a long moment.

Arianna shook her head. “My attention was all on Kydd. He was oh so close to confiding in me. I think he was having second thoughts about his involvement . . .” She swirled the chocolate and watched the dark liquid form a silent, spinning vortex. “In any case, I still might have learned something important from the interlude. I got him to talk about words that had special meaning for him, thinking you might try them as keys for the code.”

“Clever thinking,” he conceded. But if anything, his expression grew more troubled. He moved to the sideboard and poured himself a large glass of brandy. Which he proceeded to down in one swift swallow.

“Sandro, is something bothering you?”

“Other than the fact that my wife was standing a scant foot away from a man who had half his skull blown to bits?” he shot back.

A chill snaked down her spine. “Gunpowder is a volatile substance. It could have been an accident.”

“The metal fragments I found embedded in his flesh were a thin gauge steel,” he said flatly. “The canisters are made of heavy lead.”

“So you think someone deliberately tossed a bomb to kill him?’

“And most likely you. I had only a quick look, but it appeared as if the killing arc—the spread of the lethal fragments—was thrown off. Perhaps he moved at the last moment and it struck his back instead of his chest.”

Arianna felt herself go pale.

“What?” he asked softly.

“Yes, Kydd did move.” She hurried on, hoping he wouldn’t ask her to explain. “But if what you suspect is true, why the big explosion? Wasn’t the assassin risking his own life by setting off such a conflagration?”

“He may have inadvertently dropped a lucifer. Or he may have planned to cover his crime by making it look like an accident, then set his fuse too short.” Saybrook lifted his shoulders. “There are many ways in which a plan can go wrong.”

A not-so-subtle warning . But then, her husband did not appear to be in much of a mood for nuances.

“Arianna, this masquerade you have undertaken—”

“If you are about to order me to abandon our plan, you may save your breath.”

“It’s too dangerous,” insisted Saybrook.

“I beg to differ. So far, there has been no hint of trouble. We both know that most people see only what they expect to see—and no one in his wildest dreams will imagine that Monsieur Richard is a female.”

“Talleyrand is a threat. He misses very little.”

“I agree,” said Arianna quickly. “I am taking care to stay well out of his sight when he comes down for his daily meeting with Carême. It’s not difficult. Kitchens are smoky or steamy, and there are a number of storage pantries, all of them dark.” Recalling their first encounter, she essayed a note of humor. “And if push comes to shove, I am rather skilled in using a carving knife to defend myself, as you have reason to know.”

He did not crack a smile.

“Sandro, unless you wish to abandon the effort and leave Renard to execute his murderous plan, we cannot walk away from the opportunity to gain access to Talleyrand’s palace,” she reasoned. “That both the Prince and the comte are in residence makes the chance even more important. With Kydd dead, it’s our one—our only—lead.”

He looked as if he wished to argue.

She had held her best weapon until last, when his defenses had already been battered. “But if you wish, we can pack up and return to London. That will, of course, mean having to admit to Grentham that we failed to track down the traitor.”

Saybrook drew in a harsh breath. And then let it out in a mirthless laugh. “You are utterly remorseless.”

“And unscrupulous.”

Perching a hip on the arm of her chair, he touched his palm to her cheek. “Ruthless,” he murmured.

“Heartless,” she responded.

His hand slid down to just above her left breast. “Oh no, you have a heart. You simply keep it well guarded.”

The heat of him seeped through the singed silk of her gown. “That is rather like the pot calling the kettle black.”

“So it is.” His eyes had a strangely molten glow, perhaps from the burn of the brandy. “I hate being in the dark, Arianna. It makes me feel helpless to protect you.”

“I don’t expect you to,” she whispered.

“That has no bearing on what I expect of myself.”

How to answer?

Looking away, she watched the play of shadows on the far wall. “I won’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“Liar.” There was no heat behind the accusation. Indeed, he said it with a reluctant smile. “Of course you will.”

“No, truly. I have no desire to stick my spoon in the wall just yet. So I shall be careful.”

“I suppose I must be satisfied with that for now,” said Saybrook. He turned to the hearth and began to bank the glowing coals. A hiss of smoke rose from the crackling sparks.

“But that may change.”

Canola oil, for greasing

1½ cups sugar

¾ cup light corn syrup

¼ cup honey

1 cup water

3 tablespoon unflavored powdered gelatin, softened in

½ cup cold water

¾ cup Dutch-process cocoa powder, sifted

2 tablespoons cornstarch

1. Grease an 8-inch x 8-inch baking pan, line bottom and sides with parchment paper, and grease paper. Grease a rubber spatula; set aside.

2. Combine sugar, syrup, honey, and ½ cup water in a 2-qt. saucepan over medium-high heat. Bring to a simmer; cook, without stirring, until syrup reaches 250° on a candy thermometer. Remove from heat; let cool to 220°.

3. Meanwhile, bring ½ cup water to a boil in a small saucepan. Place bowl of gelatin over boiling water; whisk until gelatin becomes liquid. Transfer to the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a whisk; add ½ cup cocoa powder. Add cooled sugar syrup to gelatin; whisk on high speed until mixture holds stiff peaks, 5–6 minutes. Pour mixture into prepared pan; smooth top with oiled spatula; let cool until set, 5–6 hours.

4. Combine remaining cocoa powder and cornstarch in a bowl and transfer to a strainer; dust work surface with mixture. Slide a knife around edge of pan to release marshmallows; remove from pan. Dust cocoa mixture over top. Using a slicing knife dusted with cocoa mixture, cut marshmallows into forty 1½ inch squares. Toss marshmallows with remaining cocoa mixture.

Yield: 40

“Damnation, damnation, damnation.” Saybrook balled the sheet of paper and lobbed it into the fire. “Would that you hadn’t taken your bloody secrets along with you to the grave, Kydd.”

He stared at the coded document. “None of the words Arianna wrested from you work, which leads me to believe that, as I suspected, you were but a pawn on this diabolical chessboard. So . . .” Tap, tap, tap. His pen drummed an impatient tattoo on the desk. “Who is moving the pieces around the board? There has to be a clue that I have missed. But for the love of God Almighty , I can’t figure out what it is.”