Tell Me I'm Dreamin' by Eboni Snoe Read Free Book Online Page A

white head agitatedly, “but that does not make any difference because I tell you she is the one spoken of in the Legend of Lenora. Don’t you think it is rather strange the way she turned up here last night?” Madame Deane continued before Catherine had a chance to answer. “And you cannot tell me she does not resemble the Lenora I have been telling you about. She has the same strange features. Her hair, skin, and eyes are virtually the same color, almost blending one into the other. You must admit that is very unique.”
    Catherine did not answer. She simply looked up at the screen above.
    Madame Deane placed her finger on the tip of her nose. “Did you do what I told you to do, Catherine? About the dress, I mean?”
    Nodding, Catherine answered, “Yes, madame, I did.”
    â€œGood. Because you see I’ve got it all right here,” a charged-up Madame Deane announced, patting a small roll of animal skin. “Well, a part of it. The last page is missing, but most of the story is here. Right here,” she said emphatically. “I’ve just got to remember where I hid that page. I was trying to hide it from everyone else and I hid it from myself. Even if I do find it she wants me to keep it a secret until the proper time.”
    Catherine looked at the dirty piece of animal skin and sighed. Madame Deane was always claiming to have found some special treasure, but the objects were treasures to her because of how she perceived the world. “Madame, I do not like you exciting yourself like this,” Catherine warned. “Miss Nadine has plans to leave today, and I do not think she is going to take too kindly to our replacing her clothes with that getup you provided.”
    â€œGetup? What do you mean, getup? Why, it is a woman’s duty to weave her own cloth right here in her home. I do it every day, Catherine. Do not try to confuse me.”
    â€œYes, madame,” Catherine replied as she rolled her eyes. How very well aware she was of the madame’s weaving. Each time she saw her begin a new color pattern it became increasingly more difficult to find a store-bought or hand-woven one to replace the bungled mess.
    â€œAnd what is this about Lenora wanting to leave?” Two whisper-thin white brows knitted together in consternation.
    â€œI do not think anyone is going anywhere,” Clarence announced, “at least not for a while. All the main paths and roads are blocked. I talked to one of the servants over at Sharpe Hall. He told me some of their workers are still stuck down by the lower wharf.”
    â€œWell, they are better off down there than they are with those two-faced Sharpes,” Madame Deane spat out disapprovingly. “They have too many servants anyway.”
    â€œDid I hear my name mentioned?” A rather short man with brown hair approached the screened door. The black collar of his shirt overlapped a bright-red vest, giving his ruddy skin an even redder tone.
    â€œYes, you did. And if you ask me—”
    â€œGood morning, Master Sharpe.” Catherine cut Madame Deane off before she could do any more damage. “Madame Deane was just saying how hard it is to get good help these days. With your having such a large estate and all, it would be easier if you had a competent overseer to head up the workers in your sugarcane fields.”
    â€œYou could not be more right, Catherine, and it is because of that very thing that I am visiting Sovereign today. I must say, it makes me feel good to know my neighbors are concerned about my welfare.”
    Madame Deane eyed the young man suspiciously, then slid the animal skin between the folds of her dress as she gave a sarcastic “Humph,” which Catherine attempted to cover up by clearing her throat.
    â€œWould you care for breakfast, Master Sharpe?”
    Madame Deane looked at Catherine as if she had sided with the enemy. Then she leaned over and placed a protective arm