Tiola repeated, incredulous. “Is this one of Bella’s jests?”“I assure you Miss Oldstagh, it is no jest. I am here to do precisely that!” Into the cluttered room walked a tall, slim man in his late twenties, fashionably dressed in a neat green velvet coat, white breeches, silver-buckled shoes. He bowed to Jenna, crossed immediately to Tiola, took up her hand and kissed it.He was among the important men of Cape Town, Dutch, as all the important men were, a merchant trader specialising in fine wines, cotton and sugar; a man with rank and authority. They had met three days past when she had been requested to attend his sister’s labour. Tiola had not expected to meet him again, most especially not here in the shabbier part of town. Stefan van Overstratten owned a fleet of ships and was one of the wealthiest men in the Peninsula. His house was an expensive three-storied structure on the elite location of Strand Street, overlooking Table Bay. Far different to the humble dwelling Tiola called home.With her reputation as a midwife spreading beyond the vicinity of Grope Lane, Tiola had found herself to be popular among the women of Cape Town.
