Chapter 16
Now that her duties were done, Lisan wanted to see how the party was doing in the ballroom. She walked along the service corridor
to the stairwell that led all the way up to the third floor, where a similar corridor ran alongside the ballroom. This narrow
hallway allowed servants to enter the ballroom through an unobtrusive door disguised as paneling. A peephole allowed servants
to make sure guests were not standing by the door before opening it.
She put her eye to the peephole and squinted at the brightly lit room. Wearing immaculately-pressed white tunics and soft,
cloth-soled shoes, the house servants moved quietly among the guests, holding out silver platters of bite-size sandwiches
and savory pastries, some filled with smoked salmon, others with curried beef. At the far end of the ballroom Chin directed
them like a conductor, pointing a white-gloved hand at a guest whose champagne glass was empty, causing Liao to rush up with
a chilled bottle to refill the glass.
A burst of laughter diverted Lisan’s attention to a corner of the ballroom where Princess Kyo held court, surrounded by a half dozen male guests.
Grey was nowhere to be seen, at least not close to Kyo.
Then her view was cut off by Chin moving quietly and purposefully across the room.
He was coming toward the service door. She backed away quickly, dashing along the corridor and down the service stairwell.
She thought of going down to the kitchen to get herself a plate of leftovers, but suddenly felt very tired and very cold.
It had been a long day and she still needed to update Caroline’s dinner party logbook, which was on the walnut desk in the
small parlor. She would build up the fire in her room to get warm, then do a bit of work. Then she would translate a bit more
of Rosalie’s diary.
The wall sconces along the hallway to the private rooms were unlit, another of Caroline’s precautions against errant guests.
One hand touching the wall for guidance, Lisan moved carefully from the servants’ stairwell to Caroline’s parlor. She found
the dinner logbook on the walnut desk. On the way along the hall to her room, voices on the landing made her stop. One of
the voices belonged to Caroline. The other to a man. Whatever was being discussed, Lisan was sure it was meant only for the
two of them. Even though it was unlikely they’d see her in the depths of the dim hallway, she slipped down the first few steps
of the servants’ stairwell, where she could look out toward the mezzanine.
Above the circular staircase, the chandelier blazed with light. Da Wu was still stationed between the lemon trees. Caroline
stood on the mezzanine by the landing. Her delicate green dress contrasted with the almost military rigidity of her posture,
her back so straight it brought to mind a violin string stretched taut, ready either to vibrate or to snap from the tension.
The man was Andrew Grey. He leaned back on the curved balustrade, cigarette in hand.
“Oh, I doubt you’ll mention anything to Thomas,” Lisan heard him say. “I promise to keep this between us until I decide what
to do about what I know.” He began walking up the staircase, back to the ballroom, then paused and looked down at Caroline.
“I know your secret.”
Lisan heard very distinctly both the words and their gloating tone.
Caroline’s back stiffened even more, if that was possible.
She spun around in a swirl of green silk and, to Lisan’s relief, went directly into her bedchamber without a glance down the darkened passageway.
Holding tightly to the handrail of the service stairs, Lisan returned to her own room.
She realized she was trembling, so strongly did she feel the threat behind Grey’s words to Caroline, even though she had no idea what it could mean.