Page 23 of Plucked By the Orc

“Do the offerings for the evening sound appetizing?” he asked.

Iris examined the menu, which she believed Duncan had written himself in his precise hand. She’d never seen the Orcan language before and couldn’t even attempt to pronounce the names of the courses. Duncan had translated them to English, but there were still an astounding number of bloody vowels. “I’m keen to try this here soup.”

“We should review the serviceware.” Duncan indicated the utensils spread before them. “The forks are designated for the first course, the main course, and cheeses after. The larger spoon is for soup, while the smaller spoon is for dessert. And the knife is used to help guide food to the proper instruments.”

“I think I can handle it, kitten.”

“Kitten again, is it? Well, I suppose we shall soon see if you canhandleit, Miss Gabbert.”

Duncan rang the little bell by his plate to summon Clemons, who was accustomed to serving meals since Duncan did not keep footmen in his employ. The butler entered the dining chamber, gripping the handles of a large tureen with his immaculate white gloves. After he placed it down before them, he ladled steaming soup into their bowls.

Mrs. Thompson then appeared in the doorway with a tray of hearty brown bread. Duncan nodded at his servants todismiss them. He sliced the bread with the serrated knife placed lengthwise next to the loaf and used tongs to place a piece on the plate underneath her bowl.

“Mind that you partake of the soup by tipping your spoon to the side.”

Though her heart fluttered, she felt some confidence in her manners. Mrs. Thompson had provided pointers on consuming consommé without broth dripping on her gown. And none of the slurping noises common in the soup kitchens. After she tasted it, she resisted the urge not to smack her lips.

“Not half bad, that. The mushrooms are quite distinct.” Iris tried to decide if she liked the almost meaty taste of them. “Are they from the Hidden Realm?”

“From the north of England. We do share certain foods if few other commonalities. For example, you shall see far fewer courses before you than at an English dinner party.”

She imagined Duncan managed himself admirably at any posh London supper. No matter how much time she spent in so-called polite society, Iris was sure she would never see such lovely manners elsewhere.

The overall effect, the stark contrast between his vast form and elegant manners as he enjoyed the soup, was most appealing.

Mr. Clemons entered the room again bearing two covered platters, one tucked at the crook of each elbow. He set them down between Duncan and Iris and lifted each lid with a flourish. The rich fragrance of mutton with herbs she couldn’t distinguish filled the air. The other dish appeared to be herring wrapped in a flaky pastry with sour cream, carrots, and turnips.

“Thank you,” Duncan told him. “We shall serve ourselves. In the Orcan manner.”

“There’s another difference between a human and orc,” Iris quipped.

“A significant difference,” Duncan said gruffly as Clemons took his leave of them. “In the Hidden Realm, we value simple food, busy days, and honorable work.”

“Seems a fine enough place,” Iris said. “Maybe I’ll see it one day.”

She thought he might grouse over that comment, but to Iris’s surprise, a wisp of a smile lifted his lips. “I think you should like it there, Miss Gabbert,” he told her. “Very well, indeed. Much separates the strictures of English society and the freedoms of the Hidden Realm. Particularly for women. It is practically a matriarchal society.”

“Matriarchal?” Iris frowned.

“A society run by women. They hold positions of leadership equal to the men.”

“When here we can’t even vote,” she cried. “But then, if women are in charge and all, why did you only put pictures of blokes on your walls?”

“An astute observation.” Duncan rose to his feet to carve the mutton on the larger of the two platters. He placed a slice on her plate. “My father furnished this place in the English manner. But I assure you the matriarchs of my family line the walls of our home in the Hidden Realm.”

“You take great pride in your family,” Iris said.

“Should I not? Do I talk about them at too great a length?”

“Nah. I said I wanted to get to know you better and listen to you chatter on about your family. I’d wager they’re proud of you. Making your way in London and all.”

“Yes, well … his hands clenched in and out of fists and he seemed uncomfortable with the compliment. “Take care not to touch the food,” he told her before she could so much as grasp her fork. “Remember that you use your knife to assist. And any excess liquids are dispensed with by way of the bread.”

“Will you join me?” she said, noting he was still towering above her and had yet to re-take his seat.

“Presently. Tell me how you find it.”

Tasting the mutton, she found it not as different from English food as she had thought it would be, though not embellished with rich sauces and such. “It’s good, it is. Hearty and all.”

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