Chapter 9: A stunt?
After dressing himself, Nathaniel came to the dining area.
"Mrs. Jules, serve my breakfast," he called casually, already settling down.
He scanned the empty table, his eyes narrowing. No newspaper.
"Mrs. Jules," he called again, this time with a little edge, "where is my newspaper?"
"Yes, sir—right away," the housekeeper called from the kitchen, rushing in a moment later and placing it before him.
He grabbed it, unfolded it, and opened his mouth again. "Coffee. Bring it now."
"Coming, sir." She disappeared and returned moments later with a cup of steaming coffee.
Nathaniel lifted it, brought it to his lips, and took a sip. The taste hit him immediately. His lips tightened at the bitterness as he forced himself to swallow it.
"Mrs. Jules!" he barked, putting the cup down with a sharp clink.
She rushed over, anxious. "Yes, sir?"
"What is it? Why does it taste off?"