Chapter 9: Market Women’s Tongues and Old Wounds

Fresh rumours started in the house.

They said I failed to win the young master, so now I was playing hard to get.

Two small house helps were gossiping in the backyard, and I happened to be in the library arranging books.

Back then, just to suit Tunde’s taste,

I spent a lot of money collecting these rare books.

I planned to carry all of them away when I left the Chief’s house.

As I was arranging them, I heard the gossip from downstairs.

"Miss Zainab is at it again. Before, she used to chase after the young master, now that he’s sick, she ignores him. Isn’t this just another trick to keep him interested?"

"A trader’s daughter will always be a trader’s daughter, always using cheap tricks like those women in the beer parlour."

"No matter how many tricks she tries, the young master go still look her like market woman. Her body is tempting, her face is flashy—not like a real lady."

I didn’t care. In my ears, their talk was just like goats bleating.

But then I heard a familiar voice scold:

"How dare you."

A cold, clear voice, like harmattan wind blowing over dry grass.

I peeped down to look.

After his sickness, Tunde looked much thinner. He wore a white agbada, looking like a palm tree swaying in the wind.

Beside him stood a refined, elegant young lady.

It was Morayo, the Commissioner’s daughter.

Her gele sat perfectly, her smile sharp as a new blade. She glanced at the house helps with practiced grace.

The two small house helps turned pale with fear and knelt down hard.

"Please forgive us, young master! We know we did wrong!"

Tunde’s face was stern.

"Half a year’s pay will be deducted. Then go to Baba Musa for ten strokes."

After the house helps left in tears, Morayo looked at Tunde, confused.

"Why is Egbon Tunde angry? It’s just a small thing. Why punish them so hard for a little gossip?"

She and Tunde grew up together.

They were very close, with a bond nobody could break.

Tunde lowered his eyes, his face calm.

"The house helps in this compound are getting out of hand. A heavy punishment will warn the others."

A shadow passed in Morayo’s eyes, but she smiled again, playfully:

"You sound so proper, but isn’t it really for Miss Zainab’s sake?"

"Ah, Miss Zainab is really something."

Tunde looked at her, his black eyes showing a bit of hidden fondness and indulgence.

"I’m not defending my cousin. Even if it was someone else today, I’d do the same."

Morayo wrinkled her nose, acting playful.

"Okay, okay. Egbon Tunde is a man of virtue. I’m just being petty."

The way she said it, anyone listening would know she was just teasing—her laughter echoing through the corridor.