Page 23 of Cordelia Manor
She shrugged but only slightly. “I always could enhance emotions in people. Not a lot. I mean, I can’t make people do things or feel things they don’t already feel or want to do, but I can make them bigger. Intensify them. And, obviously, redirect them at will.”
“And you used my…” I began, looking back toward where Cary and Al had gone, “…my attraction to someone else, even though I hadn’t explored it myself? I should probably be running for the hills.”
“Nah, I’m harmless, really. I was just pulling a prank on Cary. I honestly thought you were the sort of friend he usually brings around. Had I known you were, well, unacquainted with us, I wouldn’t have done it.”
I watched the woman’s face and knew in my heart she was being genuine. “Well, no harm, no foul, other than making me question my sanity and sexuality, but now I’m back to lusting after guys, so we’re fine. Now, what’s this?” I asked, pointing at the small dish on the table.
Christie chuckled. “Nothing witchy, I promise. I’m a professional chef, trained in France, and this is an apology dessert.”
“Trained in France? Wow, that’s impressive,” I said, and ate a spoonful of the chocolate pudding she’d brought me.
Flavor immediately burst on my tongue, and I couldn’t help but moan in pleasure. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the delight of diverse flavors that just kept coming. When I opened my eyes, Christie was grinning.
“Wait, did you do it again? If so, you can keep doing it, because damn, that’s good.”
“Nope, that’s all culinary training at play, not my natural gifts, although there’s something magic about a well-cooked dish. I’m guessing you like it?”
“Oh, heavens above, I love it so much.” I placed another spoonful on my tongue, enjoying the pleasure that assaulted my taste buds. “What are all these flavors?” I asked after enjoying the explosion.
“What do you taste?” she asked.
“Hmm, cardamom is an immediate flavor, then what is that? Is it Earl Grey tea?”
“Bergamot, great taste buds,” she said. “And the more subtle flavors?”
“Chocolate, of course, but there’s something floral too. It’s almost unnoticeable. Is that rose?”
She touched her nose. “Very good palate. It’s got a tiny splash of rosewater. Now, let’s see if you can recognize anything else. There’s a very subtle flavor that should be lingering on the back of your tongue.”
I closed my eyes in concentration, trying to figure out what exactly I was tasting. “Licorice? No, and it’s not fennel either, although it’s similar.” I opened my eyes and was just about to give up when it struck me.
Saturday nights, my dad and grandma loved to go to the old dairy barn on the banks of the river in our little town. I always got a dipped cone, but Grandma and Dad would get a root beer float, or black cow, as they’d call it.
“Root beer?” I asked. “You put root beer in this?”
Christie laughed with pleasure. “Oh, you are so good at this. I’m impressed. The root they make root beer out of is called sassafras. Al uses it in her spellcasting, but I like the flavor,especially as an accent. Very well done!” she said, and clapped her hands.
“Well, you two seem to be getting along better,” Christie’s wife said as she and Cary came back into the dining room.
“We are, especially when Christie can entice me with these flavors. Seconds please?”
Christie chuckled. “Not yet, I’m afraid it’ll spoil the breakfast I’ve prepared for you, but I promise if you don’t like what I’ve cooked, you can have all the dessert you want.”
I waggled my eyebrows at her, and said, “You might as well bring out the entire dish then, because nothing could possibly be as good as that.”
Al and Cary chuckled next to me, but Christie just bowed. “Challenge accepted.”
Over the next half hour, Christie assaulted our palates with one amazing dish after another. The food was truly magnificent. I was so full by the time we finished, I didn’t even have room for seconds of her fantastic dessert. “Oh, I’m so sad. I want more dessert, but I don’t want to make myself sick,” I whined.
Christie chuckled at the high praise. “I have a feeling we’re going to see more of you, and I promise to make that for you again.”
I smiled and patted my very full tummy. “Thank you, Christie. And for the record, you can wile me with your wicked ways anytime, as long as it’s in the form of food.” I wasn’t sure why I felt so at ease with these self-proclaimed witches, including one who possessed the power to influence my mind. But I liked them and felt comfortable now, despite my rude introduction to the two women.
Christie winked at me. “As you wish.”
Following breakfast, Cary and I drove companionably up the coastal road. Full tummies, happy thoughts, and amazing views lulled me into a sense of peace the rest of the morning. Onceagain, I had hope despite what I was up against with the manor. Who knew, maybe the worst had already passed.
20
