Chapter Three
The next morningas Cassia took Gynelle to the stairs with the help of Mage Blythesome, she heard Alyria in the Netherfield entryway, commencing speech before Cassia stood at an appropriate distance to do so.
Her younger sister’s voice started with an impatient burst. Her brown ringlets shook vigorously. “I came to collect you, for Mother declares she needs all her daughters home. You see, Master Clovis sent a letter two days ago telling us he should arrive today. At any moment. Aren’t you excited? I don’t see why I couldn’t be the only daughter home to receive him. I’m sure he’ll like me best anyway. I hope he is handsome, for I shall persuade him to marry me!”
“Oh goodness,” said Cassia, at the bottom of the stairs now, close enough to take Alyria by the arm. She left Gynelle with Blythesome. How her sister could spew out such words in a guest’s house she couldn’t fathom. Cassia pulled Alyria out of earshot. “You should not speak so openly, for it makes you sound too interested in gentlemen. I am sure Mother is in a panic. Probably Father too. Let me settle Gynelle comfortably in our own carriage then. Master Clovis’ coming early declares him to be the oddity I figured he’d be—arriving three days before his scheduled time.”
She turned back to Blythesome. “I suppose we shall not need your carriage any longer.”
He nodded, and Cassia allowed Mage Blythesome to escort her sister out the door.
At the last moment Caliazo and Darkwood came to the threshold. Caliazo smiled widely. Darkwood merely nodded with a solemn bow.
After a slow ride home, Master Clovis did indeed arrive by supper, and the family received him over an exceptionally large haunch of pork.
“To whom do I owe the compliment for this delicious dinner?” he asked as he looked from Alyria to Cassia. Alyria smiled widely, but she wasn’t to thank.
“Master Clovis,” said Mistress Retton with a forced smile, “We most definitely keep a cook. And a few other servants.”
He took a sip of his drink and continued. “Very good! And I noticed you have your own carriage too. And quite a lovely copse of trees…”
He continued to compliment Mistress Retton on her home, in the perfectly distasteful musings of one who would inherit due to the rule of male heirs. Cassia wondered just how long the ledger in his mind had grown.
Cassia couldn’t help but notice that the man chewed like a cow, his jaw rotating in a circle as he masticated the meat. It may have been a large amount of pork, but the quality was still quite poor. His brown hair fell across his forehead in small clumps, shiny with grease. His face had no vibrancy, his small eyes almost sinking into his brows. And his voice when he spoke had a painful whine.
“The only thing that could render this impeccable meal any better would be an addition of very fine truffles. I take great pride in my ability to grow, cultivate, and locate truffles. It is, if I may be so modest, my gift.”
At such a statement Cassia bit her tongue swiftly. Alyria, however, inserted herself.
“I did so wish to hear what kind of magical ability gave you the rank of master,” said Alyria, “Do tell us.” She flicked her hand at one bouncy curl, which seemed to move with as little caution as her eager mouth.
Master Clovis straightened. “Oh, had you not been apprised? I would think such things talked about. Indeed, my father made sure I was presented before the local magistrate. You and I both know neither of our families are rich enough for a court presentation. But yes, I was indeed found to be of the magical ability of master, and my strength lies in cultivating and finding truffles.” He stopped only long enough for a quick breath. “In fact, my esteemed patroness, Magess Degowyn, has her cook purchase them weekly from me. I run quite a lucrative side business beyond my living by selling my truffles. Several people, her Magess included, believe that ingesting my truffles increases their natural gifts and abilities.”
“I see,” said Cassia, smiling. The oddity before her allowed for no other facial sentiment. “And when you sayfindtruffles,” she led him on, “what exactly do you mean?”
“Yes, yes. Most people employ some type of swine to do the truffle hunting, but my natural abilities allow me to locate them without any assistance!” Ending with such a proud, cheery tone only added to the instant mental picture of Master Clovis snuffling and snorting in a pink and brown jacket on hands and knees, his portly belly grazing ground, his boar like sensibilities employing themselves.
Master Clovis entirely missed the amusement that pulled at Cassia’s cheeks. Instead he moved right on dominating the conversation. The fact that Alyria clapped her hands a few times and praised him did not help. She had always been impressed with magic, having seen very little of it.
Cassia noticed then Master Clovis’ elaborate ensemble, with his fancy stick pin and over-decorated lapels. It wasn’t really conservative enough for a rector. His truffle business must provide him ample extra income.
When he finished a very large plate of food he looked to Mistress Retton. “I would love to read to my fair cousins after dinner if they were to find it agreeable.”
“Indeed,” cried Alyria, but Cassia could not help but notice her father’s eye roll in her direction. The man’s reading, no doubt, would be just as odd as his truffles.
* * *
Master Clovis took up Fordyce’s Sermons and read for a half hour. The topic referenced how a woman ought to maintain decorum, and the content must have been completely lost on Alyria, for she appeared to like it.
By that time Cassia had had enough of his monotone drawl and sent a look to her father.
“Thank you, Master Clovis,” he said. “Perhaps our Cassia could perform for us on the piano.”
More than happy to oblige, Cassia sailed to the instrument.
During the second piece, Cassia watched Master Clovis move closer to her mother.
“Oh, no no,” she heard her mother say, “But Cassia…”
