Tools of the Trade (The Suntosun Chronicles) by G.L. Francis

Author:G.L. Francis [Francis, G.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AdeCiro Publications
Published: 2021-06-22T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

~*~

Sophie woke to the aroma of biscuits and ham wafting from the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled. Last night, she would’ve sworn she’d never be hungry again. She dressed quickly and ran a brush through her hair. Pausing by her drafting table, she picked up the drawing she’d worked on before going to bed, folded it, and slipped it into her pocket.

Mrs. Carlton, the Asher’s cook and housekeeper, greeted her at the bottom of the stairs. At the sight of Sophie's divided skirt, her wrinkled face melted from a smile to a scowl. “Young lady, your mother—God rest her soul!—would roll in her grave if she saw you now.” Mrs. Carlton lowered her voice. Her words possibly carried as far as the street. “You’ll never attract a gentleman dressed like—”

“I’ll try to remember,” Sophie interrupted, not quite matching the old woman’s volume. She hastily re-buttoned the panels of the riding skirt, then patted her stomach. “Breakfast smells wonderful.”

Mrs. Carlton nodded, and her smile returned. “Yes, breakfast is ready, but I think Bruce and that young man with the funny ears finished off the scrambled eggs.”

Cringing inwardly at the housekeeper’s volume, Sophie smiled back at her. “Thank you, Mrs. Carlton.” She moved on. She’d almost reached the kitchen when she heard an abrupt scrape on the wood floor.

“Nyet! That is abomination!” Kazimir’s voice sounded angry and nearly as loud as Mrs. Carlton’s.

“Easy, Kaz. Just askin’.”

Sophie entered the kitchen. Seated at the long table, Bruce drummed his fingers on the rim of his coffee mug. Standing opposite her brother, Kazimir glowered, outrage leaching all warmth from his eyes.

“Good morning, Bruce. Kazimir.” She took an empty plate from the end of the table and went to the stove. No answer. She split a biscuit and ladled ham gravy over it. “Good morning, Sophie. Did you rest well? Why, yes, thank you. Of course, yesterday I learned an elf works for my father, I saw a water demon, and I got in a brawl.” She poured a cup of coffee. “Today, I think I’ll learn to knit.”

“What was that?” Bruce’s voice had a lazy, slow quality no matter how perturbed he was.

“Nothing,” Sophie said. She carried her coffee and plate to the table. She took a chair next to Bruce and eyed his fresh bandage. “How’s the head?”

Bruce shifted in his chair but didn’t look at her. “Still hurts. Not as bad as yesterday.”

She smiled brightly and picked up a fork. “So, what’s going on?” She took a bite of biscuit. In the silence, she heard a log shift in the cookstove. Someday, Poppa Tom would win the argument with Mrs. Carlton and install a gas stove.

Kazimir sat down. “Your brother,” he said through clenched teeth, “had question about tools.”

“Which was?” Sophie prompted.

“I asked about the micrometer,” Bruce said. “I saw what he did with some raisins.”

Sophie shrugged and picked up her cup. “I’ve wondered, too. It’s not like any I’ve seen. What kind of markings are on all those thimbles?”

Kazimir’s answer was somewhat calmer.

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