me Kate, she’d have been mortally offended!”
Holly’s smile widened. “But I hear tell you like it so that’s what I reckon I’ll be
callin’ you.”
If the cook’s words surprised her, Catherine didn’t show it. She was too happy to be
working in the kitchen for it brought back pleasant memories she had all but forgotten.
“You are originally from Chale, aren’t you, Lady Kate?” Holly asked, making
conversation as she took out flour and lard from the pantry.
Catherine stopped in mid peel. “How did you know that?”
Holly shrugged as she measured flour onto the wooden table. “You have a bit of a
Chalean brogue.” She glanced over at Catherine. “How’d you end up in Virago?”
“My mother’s family owns a shipping line there,” Catherine told her, amazed the
servant was privy to her personal affairs. “Her oldest brother died when I was eight
and Papa moved us to Virago to take over the company.”
“Did you like it?”
“No, but then again I didn’t have any choice.”
“Me neither,” Holly sighed. “I came here from Ionary with my man, and one day I
hope to be allowed to return home.”
“How is His Grace to work for?”
Holly’s hands were deep in the flour and lard mixture. “If you don’t cross him, he
leaves you be.” She put her shoulders into the work of kneading the dough, folding it
over and over itself. “You cross him though, and you will find he is not a forgiving
man. I have been here ten years. Ain’t a bad place to live.”
Catherine bit her lip, loath asking the next question but determined to learn
something of the man before she met him.
“Is he cruel to his slaves, Holly?”
Holly’s head came up. She was looking at Catherine with shock. “No, ma’am!
Where’d you get a notion that he was?”
“Oh I didn’t,” Catherine was quick to answer. “It’s just that I’ve heard so much
about plantation owners in Diabolusia and since we don’t own slaves, I was just
wondering about His Grace.” She felt her face reddened. “And I do know that Kensetti
royalty as a whole have thousands of slaves at their disposal.”
“His Grace didn’t bring any with him when he came here,” Holly defended. “What
slaves he’s got, he inherited from his great-uncle. He does not approve of slavery,
milady.”
“Then why doesn’t he free the people who work for him?” Catherine asked.
32
Shades of the Wind
“He can’t,” Holly said. “It is against the law in Diabolusia.”
“With the grace of the gods, that’s one law that will change one day,” Catherine
grumbled.
“I hope so, milady,” Holly said firmly. “I surely hope so.”
For a while there was no more conversation between the two women. Catherine
moved from potatoes to carrots as she helped Holly make their lunch. Olabishi finished
the peas and began whipping cream. Together they made strawberry shortcake and
vanilla pudding.
“My old granny,” Holly recalled as she slid the biscuits into the hearth oven, “was
real fond of shortcake. I don’t get to make it that often anymore. There aren’t that many
of us eating every day.”
“How is His Grace’s appetite?” Catherine inquired.
Holly stood up from the oven and stared straight ahead at the bricks. “He’s had one
hell of an appetite of late, milady.” She shuddered. She swiveled her head around to
look at Catherine. “You being here will help to ease him.”
Catherine didn’t understand and said as much.
The cook turned to face her companion. There was a strange expression on the
elderly woman’s wrinkled face. “He will not truck with the folks of Anubeion, you
understand, and not many in town neither, just strangers passing through. That was
part of the Covenant, you see.”
This was the second time Catherine had heard of this mysterious Covenant. She
started to ask Holly just what it was when the stranger from earlier that morning
stepped through the door.
“You have company,
Caitlin Crews, Trish Morey