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Cook addresses Hearpwine
Cook’s gaze followed the tall man’s twitching fingers and cleared her throat just before they reached his harp. ‘Well now, actually we’re just beginning to serve lunch.’ She looked toward the sink, where a jumble of pots and pans used for preparing the day’s supper were waiting to be washed.
‘We could however use a hand with those,’ she said, nodding toward the stack. ‘Oh, and help yourself to the soup and bread and cheese. Best to fortify yourself . . . if you’re going to tackle the scrubbing, that is.’
She clasped her hand across her ample middle awaiting his decision. From the sideboard, where they were loading up their trays with tureens of soup and bowls and baskets of bread, two bright eyed servers paused to see what the man would do.
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