By the time the waiter came back to ask about dessert, I was feeling full, but I’d seen a mention of ice cream with rhubarb syrup, and I couldn’t pass it up. Beattie, ever the chocolate lover, chose the Chocolate Cake of Death, as the waiter described it, and when it arrived, it was the richest, densest chocolate cake I’d ever seen. We ended up sharing our desserts, which were both incredible, and after we paid the bill, we had to pry ourselves up because we were so full.
The walk back to the guesthouse was beautiful, with just a slight chill on the dark evening air, and when we got back to our room, I had a message from the bookseller that she was eager to meet tomorrow at 10 a.m., just as Fitz had arranged. It had been a good day all around, and I was exhausted.
But when I went to slee
