The Apothecary's Poison (Glass and Steele #3)(73)

"You enjoyed that," Matt said when I finished.

I touched my napkin to the corners of my mouth. "I did, thank you. These haven't changed since I was last here, quite some time ago."

"You came regularly?"

"With my mother."

"Ah, yes, the daughter of a confectioner."

"You remembered."

"Of course. Your maternal grandfather had a shop and your father used to buy sweets every day just so he could see your mother."

I smiled. "She worked as my grandfather's assistant, mostly in the shop front, while my grandfather made his confectionery out the back. He didn't sell buns, petit fours and other pastries like this place, but his sweets were very popular with the local children."

The Family Confectioner catered to a more well-to-do class of customer, particularly ladies wanting to pass the time with a friend over a cup of tea and a pastry. Nothing had changed since my mother used to bring me before her death, some ten years ago. The rose pink and white striped curtains matched the cushions, and little cakes were set out in enticing displays under glass domes on the counter. A boy no more than four years old ogled the glass jars filled to the brim with colorful hard sweets and pointed out his selection to the shopkeeper while his mother or nanny withdrew coins from her reticule.

"You don't talk about her much," Matt said quietly.

"Don't I? I suppose it's been so long now since she died. I'm ashamed to say I don't think of her as much as I ought."

"I'm sure she'd want it that way. No parent would want their child to mourn them for long. Your parents would want you to get on with your life and live for the future, not the past. Mine would be the same."

"You're probably right." Even so, I must visit my parents' graves as soon as Matt could spare me from the investigation.

We handed our plates and cups back at the counter and were about to leave when Matt changed his mind and bought a bag of bonbons. I suspected it was because I'd been eyeing them.

He offered me one as we exited but I refused. "I couldn't possibly fit another thing in."

"Not even one?" He shook the bag.

I caught a whiff of the chocolate and breathed it into my lungs. "Perhaps just one."

He watched me eat it. "Feel better?"

"Infinitely. But put those away or I'll eat the entire bag before we get home."

He stuffed them into his jacket pocket and smiled at me. "I've noticed that sweets seem to ease your anger."

"One can't possibly be angry when one is eating chocolate or a sweet. That's why confectioners are in demand. And anyway, I wasn't angry with you, Matt."

"For once."

"Matthew Glass, I am never angry with you. Not truly."

He narrowed his gaze. "Ever?"

"Sometimes you vex me, but you never anger me. You couldn't possibly anger anyone."

"Except Clark and Abercrombie."

"And Doctors Ritter and Wiley," I added. "Detective Inspector Brockwell, too, and Lord Coyle."

"And quite a few people from the Mapmaker's Guild. You're building up an impressive list."

"I think I spoke out of turn." I clutched his arm tighter. "Let's change the topic."

"Very well." He looked to the sky. "It looks like rain is on the way."

I studied the gray pall hanging so low it seemed as if the church spire pierced it. "Those aren't rain clouds but merely London's miasmic air."

"Why do the authorities not do something about it? Surely it must spread disease."

"All the more reason for me to purchase that cottage in Willesden," I said. "Did you notice how clean the air was there? I think it'll be a lovely place to live, and not too far to travel to the city."

"The family who rents it will no doubt think the same way." He chose his words carefully, his gaze on me. He seemed to have guessed that I was considering living in the cottage myself.

"You must be eager to return to California," I said quickly. "Away from London and our putrid air."

We walked on a few paces before he answered. "I find I'm in no hurry."

"You must miss it."

"Only the weather." He smiled. "Certainly not my Johnson relatives."

"Surely they're no worse than your Glass ones. Or do you have cousins over there who want to marry you too?"

He laughed. "My Johnson cousins are made in the same mold as Willie, except most of them hate me since I became a turncoat. They'd rather kill me than marry me."

"Then you must stay here." My tone was more serious than I intended. It was hard not to be serious when talking about his death. "Don't ever go home, Matt."

His step slowed and he looked down at me with smoky eyes. "London is my home at the moment."

Until I move on, his unspoken words said. Matt had traveled extensively as a child before his parents died. He'd lived much of his life in various European countries. After their deaths, he'd returned to America at age fifteen. It was understandable that he considered himself a citizen of no single country. He was a man with wandering in his veins. After Chronos was found, and his watch fixed, he may not return to America, but he wouldn't remain in England either.