The Black Witch by Olivia Hardy Ray

Author:Olivia Hardy Ray [Ray, Olivia Hardy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Indies United Publishing House, IUPH, paranormal, fantasy, witch, historical fantasy, Jack the Ripper, Oscar Wilde, opera, revenge fiction, paranormal mystery, witch series, magic, herbs
Publisher: Indies United Publishing House, LLC
Published: 2023-10-12T22:00:00+00:00

We had tea in the drawing room after dinner, where the girls entertained us with a Punch and Judy show. The horrible clubbing Prudence gave her younger sister’s puppet was disturbing. I detected a slice of evil in her face as she clobbered away. But then again, she looked so much like Jeanne Elemont that I might have misinterpreted her evil expression for one of determination and strength.

I looked across the room at the men as they played chess and could barely keep my eyes off my husband. I was aware of Mrs. Hooper, who watched me carefully, thinking perhaps that I was longing for my son’s recognition, which, of course, I was except it was my husband I longed to have notice me. Michele had loved chess and had been quite good at it. I was intrigued that he had not forgotten how to play. I was thinking of something I might do or say to jog his memory and thought perhaps that I would talk about our Brooklyn home when the opportunity presented itself.

After nearly an hour of idle chatter between Mrs. Hooper, Elizabeth, and myself, Mr. Hooper joined the ladies on the soft settees which were surrounded by round tables filled with cheese and fruit.

“Our young tutor is a brilliant chess player. I cannot beat him. Perhaps Matthew will have better luck,” Mr. Hooper said.

“He’s also very good at poker,” I said.

“Well then, we shall have to challenge him to a game of poker. I think I might be able to beat him at that.” He leaned in close to me. “Michele is American, is he not?”

“Of course,” I said. “He’s from New York. We all are.”

“He has forgotten he is an American?”

“It would seem.”

“So, he is a descendant of slaves?”

I leaned back on the settee and gave him an odd look, for the question was inconsequential. “No, I don’t believe so. Actually, New York is the most diverse city in America, but it was once most certainly the capital of slavery. Michele is a descendant of European and Caribbean ancestors.” I was about to elaborate with a brief synopsis on the end of slavery in New York when the doorbell rang. I wished I could tell him that Michele is from the twenty-first century with its Black president, women in slacks, rock and roll, cable television, and cell phones, but he would have surely thought me insane.

“Is that so?” Mr. Hooper said as Henry passed through the room on his way to the front door.

“If my husband could go back in time, I’m sure he would trace his proud ancestry to those Africans who built the city of New York and created so much legacy out of their enslavement. There was slavery here in Britain, too, was there not?”

“There was, but my family has always been opposed to it. I do not believe the Negros are of an inferior race but then again, I am part of the intelligentsia.

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