[Measure of Devotion 02.0] Measure of Strength

by Caethes Faron

  Chapter Fourteen

  The excitement stirred in Kale’s belly the moment they entered the city. The best memories of his life were in Perdana—and the worst. Over the tops of buildings, he spotted the grand library on the university grounds. There was a time when he’d thought it the most magical place in the world. Was he even capable of such feelings anymore?

  They rode past the park, and Kale had to turn away. That particular spot held too many memories that were now painful to examine. There was the opera house and art gallery, and then there was Flannigan’s. The memories there weren’t quite as painful as the rest, but now was not the time to entertain them. Kale watched people fluttering around him as they made their way through the city. Not much had changed since he had last been here. People in fancy clothes still twittered about, and the streets were still filthy with both trash and the poor.

  They passed the homes of the aristocracy, some of which Kale had visited with Jason. Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, locked in a back room, were the names of all the people who lived here, their tastes, preferences, and scandals. He was comforted in a way to know that the knowledge was all there in his mind, that he hadn’t lost it, even if he never accessed it again.

  It was in this section of town that the carriage stopped, and Kale glanced up at a townhouse he didn’t recognize. For some reason, he had supposed they would pull up to the same townhouse he had left three years ago. It was a silly thought. Logically, he knew that Jason had moved. When he thought about it, he was surprised that Jason was even living in Perdana. It would have been more probable for Jason to move into one of Renee’s family estates for the coming summer. Then again, Jason had always loved Perdana.

  Renee. Family. Kids. Who exactly would be inside that house? Kale’s pulse raced. He got off the carriage and bowed his head as much as he could while still being able to lift his eyes and see any gestures that might be directed his way. Would Renee be mad at Jason for buying him or indifferent? Kale almost snorted. Indifferent was a futile hope. Renee would be furious.

  Jason got out of the carriage, shot Kale a quick glance on his way to the entrance, and nothing more. He disappeared inside the house, and Kale found himself resenting Jason for leaving him to face this alone. The secretary made a gesture for Kale to follow him and then walked to the front door. It was an unexpected twist. He had struck Kale as the type of man who put a lot of stock in propriety and wouldn’t abide a labor slave coming through the front door. When he proceeded to lead Kale to a fancy guest room, Kale thought he was batty.

  “This is the room your master wishes you to use, against my strong objection. There is an en suite bathroom to ensure your privacy, about which the master seems concerned. Mr. Wadsworth instructs that you are to spend the rest of the day here resting. Sophie, the cook, will bring you something to eat.”

  During this little speech, Kale stood with his head down. He hadn’t looked at much of anything on the way in—he was too scared of who he might see—but he could tell that this was a much finer home than the one where he had lived with Jason before. Even back then he hadn’t warranted his own room, and especially not one outside the slave quarters. This was a foreign and unsettling situation. No matter what he did, he felt sure it would lead to trouble.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  Yes, Kale had questions, but none that he would give voice to. Especially not to a stranger whose name he didn’t even know. And he wasn’t about to ask for it as though he had any right to use a free man’s name.

  “And you don’t have to bow your head like that, especially to me.”

  Kale raised his head to look at him, though not straight on. He knew the secretary’s kind. The man didn’t like the bowed head of a broken laborer in his fancy house, but Kale didn’t doubt that he’d still slap a slave silly for not showing the appropriate amount of deference.

  “No questions?”

  That damned right hand began to fidget again. All Kale wanted was for this man to leave. As if the situation wasn’t awkward enough, he didn’t want to be standing alone with a free man who clearly despised him. Kale needed time to think everything through, and time was a luxury he was not being granted.

  In the face of Kale’s silence and nervous twitching, the secretary softened. “Please, rest. You don’t have to fear anything here. No one has the authority to punish you other than the master, and seeing as he’s given you this room, I don’t think you need to worry about him. He will be upset if you don’t take advantage of his hospitality. I’m going to get you some clothes. Lay down. Sophie will be in shortly with some dinner.”

  He stood still, looking at Kale as if for some confirmation. Kale wasn’t about to go lay down on the bed with him standing there, so if that was what he was waiting for, the secretary was sorely mistaken. As a general rule, Kale tried to speak as little as possible to free people—he found it drastically reduced his chances of saying the wrong thing—but it seemed like Martin wasn’t going to leave without some kind of response. So Kale murmured, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  Satisfied, the man nodded and walked out. Once the door was shut and Kale could hear footsteps retreating, he finally took a proper look at the room. What he saw made his mouth hang open. From the looks of it, this guest room was where a visiting noble might be placed. Against the wall, the bed called to him with its red and gold down comforter that would be too hot for this time of year, but still invited him with its fluffiness. It would be so easy to collapse onto it, but Kale knew he was a mess, and he didn’t want to soil such beautiful bedding.

  The en suite bathroom was fully equipped with a tub, but Kale wasn’t bold enough to draw himself a bath. Instead, he stripped down and took a wet washcloth to clean the grime from his skin. It took several sinks full of water to get the washcloth to rinse clear, but eventually he achieved a state that resembled cleanliness.

  Further examination revealed a razor and shaving soap. Kale scratched at the itchy stubble he had been forced to wear much of the last three years. The urge to sleep didn’t stand a chance against the need to shave. The labor firm had a barber shave the slaves every couple of weeks, but it was to prevent lice and was done with perfunctory efficiency.

  Kale took his time lathering the cream, enjoying its cool touch on his skin. When he took up the razor, he slid it over taut skin carefully, achieving the closest shave he’d ever had. Just as he was patting his face dry with a towel and enjoying the new sensation of air on his jaw, a woman walked in carrying a tray. She set it down on a table in the bedroom and came to the bathroom.

  “You’re supposed to be resting.”

  A familiar fear entered Kale. Had it been presumptuous to make use of the bathroom when he had been ordered to lie down? If he had dirtied the bed, then surely he would be in more trouble than whatever was headed his way. As he scurried backward into the corner of the bathroom, covering himself with the towel, he tried to make himself as small as possible. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “Martin was right. You are skittish. I thought maybe it was just him. It’s all right, honey, you haven’t done anything wrong. I was teasing you.”

  The thought that he wasn’t in trouble when everything about this situation was wrong didn’t make sense. At least now he knew the secretary’s name. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “There’s no need to apologize. You’re fine. I just thought you’d be fast asleep in that nice bed when I got up here is all. It’s very thoughtful of you to wash first, but trust me, this room could use some dirtying up. We never have guests, and we could use the chance to do some cleaning.”

  For a few seconds they stood there, Kale stark naked, looking at the ground and holding a towel before him. Then the woman snatched his tattered pants from the floor. Icy fear gripped him and compelled him to speak. “Please, ma’am.”

  “That’s a start, except you can drop the ma’am. My name’s Sophie.”

  Kale could hear the smile in her voice and peeked up at her
. She was short and slight, with the lightest blonde hair Kale had ever seen knotted high on her head. The smile on her face widened when she caught him looking at her.

  “You don’t need to be so shy. We’re not brutes. You can lift your head.” Kale obeyed. There was nothing threatening about this woman. “Now what was it you were wanting to ask me?”

  “Please,” Kale couldn’t bring himself to use her name. There had been a time when he used the names of free people, but it was so long ago that he was out of practice. “My pants. They’re the only ones I have.”

  “I know. Martin is getting you some clothes, and I’m going to take these out and burn them.”

  The grip of fear tightened. Kale didn’t want to ask her for a favor or contradict her, but he couldn’t let her take them. Instead, he relied on his eyes to do the talking. He tried to look as miserable as possible.

  “You scared of being without them? I guess you don’t have any reason to trust us, although we would never leave a man naked. Fine, I’ll leave them. Once you get new ones, I’ll take these away. Don’t put them on now, though, after you’ve just cleaned. Wrap the towel around your waist and come get your food.”

  The fear slowly left his body and was replaced with relief. “Thank you.”

  “Sophie.”

  “Sophie.” Kale nodded. It would take a while to remember how to be around people who didn’t view him as an animal.

  In the bedroom, she gestured for Kale to take a seat at the table with the tray. Sitting in front of a free person was more than uncomfortable, it was fear inducing. He wanted to nod to her to sit first, but that felt dangerously close to issuing orders. There was a solution tucked away in a part of his brain he hadn’t used in years, the part that knew how to function in polite society. He figured she wouldn’t get mad at him for observing good manners.

  “After you,” Kale gestured to the other chair at the table and swallowed. “Sophie.”

  Sophie looked pleased and took a seat, after which Kale followed suit.

  “I brought you some soup and bread. It’s not much, but I was worried your stomach might not be able to handle more. I know how scarce you must have been fed, and with all the excitement of the day, I didn’t want you heaving it right back up.”

  Sophie discarded the tray’s cover, and Kale thought he must have died and gone to heaven. The smell of warm, freshly baked bread with a healthy slab of butter on it actually brought the pinprick of tears to his eyes. The bread rested against a bowl of simple tomato soup with steam still wafting off it. He was determined not to give in to the urge to lift the bowl to his lips and gulp it down. He wouldn’t eat like an animal in front of this lady. The spoon felt awkward in his hand, but he managed to fill it with soup and raise it to his lips. As soon as the warm, creamy smoothness hit his tongue—so different from the watery stock he had been subsisting on—he couldn’t help himself. He shoveled it into his mouth. It tasted so fresh, and he was so hungry. His body hunched over the bowl while his free arm encircled it. He couldn’t risk losing this meal now that he had tasted it.

  Once the bowl was empty, he eyes lighted on the slice of bread. It was light, fluffy, and soft enough to sop up the thin film of soup remaining in the bowl. He had forgotten that bread was supposed to be soft. The last time he had lived under the same roof as Jason, he had eaten better than this, but Kale couldn’t remember food ever tasting so good. The rest of the world faded into the background as he focused on eating while he had the chance.

  When he was done, he became aware of Sophie’s eyes resting on him, concern and pity evident in their brown depths. Kale didn’t like being pitied, but he was too content to care. Let her think what she wanted. For the first time in three years, his belly was sated.

  “I take it you liked it?”

  “It was the best meal of my life, miss.” Kale’s body was limp with warmth.

  “See, all it takes is some food in you to loosen your tongue.” Kale looked away, remembering his place. “No, now don’t go clamming up on me again. I need someone to talk to. It’s much too lonely in this house.”

  Kale’s eyes darted up and then back away. Sophie’s words tickled at an observation Kale had made on the way to this room, but he kept quiet.

  “What is it? Do you have a question?” Sophie reached over and turned Kale’s face so it met hers. “Go ahead and ask. You can speak freely around me. I won’t bite, I promise.”

  Her smile was so disarming that Kale found himself believing her. “You said it was lonely, miss. Where is everyone?”

  “Everyone?” Sophie didn’t seem to understand.

  “Yes, miss. The rest of the slaves and staff? Re—The family?” Kale corrected quickly. The mistress of the house had always been Renee or Miss Arlington to him. Now she was neither.

  “There is no one else. It’s just me, Martin, and Mr. Wadsworth.”

  “But I thought…” Kale let the question die on his lips. It was too presumptuous.

  “Thought what, dear?” Sophie wrapped her hand around his in encouragement.

  “Nothing. I just thought it would take more people to keep a house like this running.”

  Sophie removed her hand. “Oh, it does, but Mr. Wadsworth doesn’t like having slaves. You’re the first he’s had since I’ve worked for him. He’s also a bit of a recluse and can pinch pennies tighter than any man I’ve known. He doesn’t want more people in the house, and he refuses to spend money on the upkeep.”

  That wasn’t right. Jason wasn’t a recluse. And since when did he shy away from spending money? He had enough of it.

  “By the way, now that we’re on speaking terms, what’s your name?”

  “It’s Kale, miss.” The name sounded foreign on his lips. He hadn’t had much reason to use it. The past three years had been about survival. He didn’t talk to the other slaves he worked with, and they didn’t talk to him. Even if they had had the energy for it, there was no point in developing friendships that couldn’t last in the uncertainty of their lives.

  “Kale?” Sophie’s voice was hollow and unbelieving.

  “Yes, miss.” It was clear from her facial expression that she had heard his name before.

  “Well then, I’d guess you have more questions.”

  “Why? What do you know about me?”

  “Oh, I have plenty of questions myself. I know hardly anything about you. I’ve only heard your name a couple of times, always when Mr. Wadsworth thought I couldn’t hear. But you’ve been like a ghost in this house for as long as I can remember.”

  Did Renee and Jason still fight about him? Why couldn’t that boy just let go and move on? He had done everything he could.

  “Go on. Ask me what you want, dear.”

  Kale was hesitant, but he needed to know. “Where’s Renee? I mean, Mrs. Wadsworth.”

  Sophie’s eyebrows rose at the use of Renee’s name, but other than that, she seemed nonplussed. “I don’t know. I’ve never met her. From what I understand, she and Mr. Wadsworth separated not long after her father died. They were only married for around six months when it happened.”

  Then why was Jason at the Arlington Steel Mill? “So he’s divorced?”

  “Gracious, no. I believe they simply found it easier to be married if they weren’t around each other. Martin knows more about it than me. I was hired on after all that business was done.”

  After all that, after everything Kale had done, Jason still couldn’t manage to be happy. And now he had drug Kale back into his miserable life. “What questions do you have for me, miss?”

  “How long will it take for you to stop calling me miss, for starters?”

  Kale shook his head. “That may take a while, but I’ll try. Sophie.”

  “That’s all I ask.” Sophie rose and gathered the tray. Kale stood with her, not wanting to sit in her presence if she wasn’t.

  “I thought you had questions.”

  “I do, but they can wait. Frankly, they’re none of my business. You get some rest
. I’ll be back later with more food.” The sparkle in her eye brought a smile out of him.

  Kale went to the door and held it open for her. As she swept by, he built up the courage to speak again. “Thank you, Sophie.”

  “You’re welcome, dear. Now go get some sleep.”

  When the door was shut again, Kale stared at the bed. It was huge, ornate, and entirely inappropriate for him. Instead of sleeping, he went around the room examining the furnishings. There was a large wardrobe with intricate floral carvings. A bookshelf against the wall caught his attention. Turning his head to look at the spines, his eyes scrambled to make sense of the letters. A back room in his mind slowly opened to provide him with the information he needed. None of the books looked terribly interesting. It would have been slow going if he had dared to pull one out and tried to read, but the knowledge was still there, safely tucked away. Kale was satisfied that if he wanted to, he’d be able to read again.

  As he lazily made his way around the room, he kept stealing glances at the bed. It was enticing, but he was terrified of falling asleep and waking up in trouble. His orders had been clear, but his brain rebelled, asserting that the comfort of the bed was not meant for him. The floor would do. Then again, would he appear ungrateful if he was discovered rejecting the bed?

  Oh, screw it. After three years, his body was ready to take the offered rest, no matter the risk. Kale disposed of his towel and folded down the comforter. The sheets were cool on his bare skin as he lay down. Muscles relaxed, and he was pulled back to the memory of the last time he had been in such a nice bed. It was so similar, only this time there wasn’t a warm body next to him. That reminded him; he needed to retrieve something from his pants before he surrendered to sleep. It wasn’t likely they’d be there when he woke.