Page 19 of Jane Deyre
When I return to the main house, lunch is already being served on the partly enclosed veranda. I guess my tour of Thornhill will have to wait. Edwina, Alice, and Ward are seated around a six-seat rectangular table that’s covered by a stunning floral tablecloth. Clusters of wisteria hang from the trellis and complement it. A meow sounds in my ears and I realize that Pilote is seated at the table as well. Curled on the cushioned, green wicker chair next to Edwina with a small bowl of milk. I settle into one of the two vacant chairs, next to Mr. Rochester, facing the rose garden. I can feel his eyes on me. Feel his heat.
“Where’s Adele?” I ask, noticing she’s conspicuously missing.
Ms. Fairfax gives me a castigating glare. “Isn’t thatyourjob to know where she is?”
“I’m sorry. I was settling into my quarters. I saw her about a half hour ago frolicking around the yard.” I don’t mention the tree incident.
Ms. Fairfax scowls. “How dare you let her play in the yard by herself? For all you know, that child could have fallen into the pool. It doesn’t have a safety fence.”
I inwardly shudder, knowing this witch has gone out of her way to make me feel inept. Edwina comes to my rescue. “I’m sure my goddaughter will be just fine. There is a gate to the pool area that the gardener always keeps closed. There’s no way she could reach the latch and open it.”
I breathe a sigh of relief though worry still pulses through me. My gaze shifts to the table.
The table is set with elegant silverware and monogrammed heirloom china. In the middle is a glass pitcher, filled with what looks like ice tea. Orange wedges float inside it like goldfish.
“Is it okay if I help myself to some of the ice tea?” My throat’s still parched.
“Of course, my dear,” replies Edwina. “You need not ask.”
Before I can reach for the pitcher, Ward fills my glass.
“Thank you, Mr. Rochester.” I instantly take a long sip to quench my thirst while he sets the pitcher down.
The ice tea is delicious and refreshing. Infused with orange flavor and a hint of mint. Another sip and I put my glass down. Coming through the arched double doors is Grace, holding a silver tray with a tureen and ladle on it. She sets the tray on the table and removes the lid from the tureen. Inside the vessel is some kind of creamy stew. Steam radiates from it. It smells like fish.
Still dressed in her gray suit, Ms. Fairfax stretches her long neck to inspect it. “Let’s not wait for that impetuous child to join us. Let’s eat while the meal is still hot.” She looks up at Grace, whose face has regained its color. “Grace, what are you waiting for? Please serve us.”
Obediently, Grace shuffles around the table and ladles a generous portion of the fish stew into our bowls. I’m the last one to get a serving.
Edwina is the first one to try it. Pursing her lips, she blows on her spoonful and then consumes it. A content expression forms on her face.
“This is divine, Grace. Thank you.”
The mute woman twitches a smile while Pilote mews.
Edwina looks down at the cat and strokes him. “Would you like some too, baby boy?”
The cat lets out another meow.
She looks back up at Grace. “Grace, please be a dear, and put a little in Pilote’s bowl.” I guess Fancy Feast is not fancy enough for his royal majesty. Grace does as she’s told and then scurries back inside the house.
“Bon appétit, everyone. Enjoy your lunch. Thechaudréeis made with the fresh halibut I had flown in from Alaska.”
I watch as everyone spoons up their first taste of the soupy stew. Pilote greedily licks his bowl. I’m the last one to try some. I slide a spoonful into my mouth and can’t help moaning.
“Mmm.”
Edwina casts her eyes on me. “Is everything okay, Jane?”
“Yes. This is delicious.” It’s, in fact, the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Rich and buttery, the fish melts in my mouth.
“I’m so pleased you like it. Grace is a marvelous cook. She studied at Le Cordon Bleu.”
I have no idea what that is, but I waste no time helping myself to more. About to ingest another mouthful, I see Adele trotting our way. Her braids bobbing. Covered head to toe with dirt and grass stains.
Ms. Fairfax looks aghast as the little girl runs up to the table. She shoots me another contemptuous look.
“There is no way this bedraggled elfin is sitting down at the table with us. She needs to be bathed and changed into a new set of clothing.Jane...”