The Cocoa Conspiracy Read Free

chocolate, chopped (about ¼ cup)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
    For the meringue (optional)
    1 large egg white
3 tablespoons superfine sugar
    1. Whisk cocoa into ⅓ cup boiling water.
    2. In a saucepan, combine coconut milk, brown sugar and salt. Simmer, stirring, until sugar is dissolved, about 2 minutes. Whisk in hot cocoa and chopped bittersweet chocolate until smooth. Stir in vanilla.
    3. In bowl of an electric mixer, beat egg white on medium speed until it begins to foam, about 1 minute. Add superfine sugar tablespoon by tablespoon as mixer is running. Beat until egg white stiffens to soft peaks and is shiny, 5 minutes. Dollop onto cups of hot chocolate.

    H eels clip-clopping over the black and white marble tiles of the entrance hall, Arianna crossed to the side table and tossed down her bonnet. It was, she admitted, a hideous head covering. But until now, she hadn’t noticed the smudge of green slime on the peak of its poke.
    No wonder the shop clerk continued to eye me suspiciously, even after I passed over a large wad of banknotes to pay for the book.
    “You are looking very fetching, my dear.”
    As she turned abruptly, several hairpins slipped free, loosening a lopsided spill of curls across one cheek.
    “And is that a new perfume you are wearing?” Alessandro Henry George De Quincy, the fifth Earl of Saybrook, gave an experimental sniff. “Eau de Rotten Cabbage, perhaps ? Or is it turnip?”
    “Oh, please. Don’t ask.”
    “Very well.” His gaze moved to the neatly wrapped package tucked under her arm. “What have you there?”
    “Never mind,” she said tartly to her husband. “It’s a surprise.”
    He made a face. “I am not overly fond of surprises.”
    Neither am I.
    “This one is perfectly harmless,” Arianna assured him. Anxious to change the subject, she gestured for the maid who had accompanied her on the shopping expedition to take the baskets of fresh produce down to the kitchens. “Elena, tell Bianca that there were no cèpes to be had,” she instructed. “Though I do think she will find the goat cheeses a perfect match for the Seckel pears she purchased yesterday.”
    Her husband raised a teasing brow as he surveyed her disheveled appearance. “Did you have to battle a regiment of Soult’s cavalry for the last wedges?”
    “The market was crowded this morning,” she answered evasively. “I know I look a fright.”
    “You would look ravishing wearing a burlap grain sack,” he replied with a grin. “Still, you may wish to change before joining Charles and me in the library for tea.”
    “Your uncle is coming by? Good Lord, then I’d better hurry.”
    Saybrook coughed. “Actually, he arrived just a few moments before you did.”
    It was only then that Arianna noticed the tall, elegantly attired figure standing in the shadows of the marble staircase.
    “Forgive me for intruding without notice at this early hour.” Charles Mellon stepped forward and bowed over her hand.
    Some perverse imp of Satan must be intent on making mischief for me today.
    “Nonsense, sir. You know that you are always welcome here.” Despite the quick assurance, her smile was a little tentative. She suspected that Mellon was not very pleased about her recent marriage to his nephew, though he was too much of a gentleman to be anything but scrupulously polite in her presence.
    “Thank you, milady,” he replied with grave formality.
    That he hadn’t approved of her at the beginning of their acquaintance was no secret. And with good reason, Arianna thought wryly. At the time, she had been a fugitive from justice, and because of her, Saybrook had been drawn into a tangled web of corruption and conspiracy. It was only by the grace of God—and their cleverness—that they had escaped with their lives.
    “It is always a pleasure to see the two of you,” Mellon went on.
    More than a few men may have been less sincere in such sentiments. After all, with the earl’s demise, the Saybrook title and fortune