Seven for a Secret Read Online Free PDF

might consider having that private bath in the back of the house put back in working order.”
    “Would you like that?” He glanced up the wooden staircase in the direction of the singing, which had continued unabated. “Its mosaics scandalize Peter.”
    “Considering those lyrics he’s been treating us to ever since we arrived, I doubt it! You wouldn’t have to go to the Baths of Zeuxippos every day if you had your own put in order. It would make a change, bathing with someone other than Anatolius and half the population of Constantinople.”
    John smiled. “True, although I would still attend to use the gymnasium regularly. I’ll engage the necessary workmen.”
    “Thank you. And don’t follow me at what you hope is a discreet distance, John.”
    Noting her expression, John ruefully agreed not to attempt the subterfuge.
    After Cornelia had gone, John loped upstairs and paused at the kitchen door. Despite its open window, the room was warm, heated by a glowing brazier. The aroma of savory lamb and pine nuts hung in the air, drifting over the pungent smell of onions.
    Peter looked up with a start from his chopping. His marching song turned miraculously into a hymn in mid-verse. Then he stopped singing. “Master, I didn’t hear you. I should have attended the door.”
    His distress was evident. John suspected it had as much to do with the tacit admission of increasing deafness than any lack of attention to household duties.
    “Do you wish me to bring wine to the study?”
    “No, I can help myself. Continue with your cooking.” John filled the cup that sat beside the jug on the scarred table at which Peter was working. “Peter, Cornelia tells me you refuse to accept her help in the kitchen.”
    “That is so, master. I feel it is not the place of the mistress to work as a servant. I have never proved incapable of carrying out my duties.” The servant ducked his head to continue his work, but his hurt expression was not lost on John.
    “Of course not,” John replied. “But with another person in residence and Hypatia working elsewhere, there is more work for you to carry out.”
    John thought Peter looked uncommonly haggard. The lines in his leathery face appeared deeper and his wrists thinner. As he stepped away from the table to stir the pot bubbling on the brazier he looked unsteady. It would be difficult to persuade him to undertake fewer duties. It might be possible to arrange for Hypatia to return. Peter might be more amenable to accepting help from her. He would do whatever he was ordered to, but John did not wish to injure the old servant’s pride.
    “There’s no need for you to try to do more than you can manage, Peter. As I’ve said before, you will always have a place here whether you can work or not.”
    Peter’s lips tightened. He kept stirring. His spoon clanged against the side of the pot. “If I can’t earn my keep, master, I will end my days in a monastery!”
    “I could not allow that, Peter. You have been a loyal and excellent servant and deserve some time to rest in the sunlight when you grow old.”
    “You will forgive me saying so, master, but I am a free man, not a slave, and I may leave your employment if I wish.”
    John finished his wine and set down the cup. “We will discuss this some other time, Peter. Right now, there is something else I wish to talk to you about. I know you are always discreet and I appreciate that.”
    A smile added new wrinkles to Peter’s face. “Thank you, master.”
    He left the brazier and resumed chopping.
    John paused, seeking the best way to frame his question without casting aspersions on his servant’s loyalty. “It concerns the mosaic in my study and the girl Zoe. As you know, I sometimes talk to her.”
    Peter hesitated. “I have heard you speaking out loud, if that’s what you mean.”
    “This worries you,” John went on.
    “I would not question you, master. After all, I sing to myself.”
    “But I know that my speaking to Zoe