“I think, considering the circumstances, the introduction can wait until tomorrow,” she said.
“Oh yes, that’s probably best.”
***
Mira hoped that the accommodations would allowher to glean information one-on-one from Theresia, Maureen, or Liza. Unfortunately, due to the lack of rooms, she wouldn’t have the opportunity.
“It was incredibly generous of the Risewells to put us up like this,” Liza said, running her fingers through her hair.
“Oh, they couldn’t very well throw us into the storm,” Maureen said.
A knock came at the door and Mira stood to open it. The same footman that had gestured them into the ballroom stood there with a stack of clothes in his hands.
“Miss Risewell asked for these to be sent over,” he said, his head turned to the side.
Something about his voice was vaguely familiar. He was fairly short and stocky, but in the dim light it was difficult to see his face. “Thank you,” she said, stepping aside. “Can you putthem on the dresser, please?”
He seemed surprised, hesitating for a moment before entering. A gas lamp was on the wall above the door and as he passed beneath it Mira caught sight of a small scar on his cheek.
“What was your name?” she asked, hoping to hear more of his voice.
“Fitzwilliam, miss,” he said, still avoiding her gaze.
She nodded. “You don’t happen to know where my brother’s room is, do you?”
“Brother, miss?”
“Walker Blayse. I believe he’s with two other gentlemen.”
“Oh, yes, miss. He’s in the blue room. On the far end of this landing with Mr. Constantine and Mr. Sherard. Would you like me to take you to him?”
“No, that’s alright,” Mira said. “I just wanted to know. Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”
The footman nodded and left the room. Mira drummed her fingers on the top of the dresser.
“What was that about?” Liza asked. “You already knew which room was Walker’s.”
“I was just testing something,” Mira said.
Maureen paused in braiding her hair. “Your Mr. Sherard must really bear a resemblance to this Constantine fellow. First Bertie and then the footman? Any chance they are secretly twins?”
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Mira said, changing into the borrowed nightclothes and wrapping herself in a dressing gown. The more she thought about it, the more she was certain that her hypothesis was correct. Though she didn’t want to give anything away to the footman.
After fifteen minutes of idle conversation, she cited a need for the WC and left their room, heading for the blue room. She tiptoed across the carpet, hoping that the footman wasn’tkeeping an ear out.
She knocked on the door and Castel opened it, his brow furrowing.
“Dare I ask what you are doing here in such a state?”
Mira’s cheeks burned. “It is perfectly acceptable for this time of night. May I come in?”
“Who is it?” Walker called from inside the room.
“Your sister, who I hope is here for you and not my brother.”
“May I come in?” Mira repeated.
Castel stood aside, and Mira stepped in. Walker sat on the edge of the bed. Byron looked up from where he was writing at the desk, his hair rumpled and shirt half unbuttoned. He left his writing, evidently not noticing his own state of undress. Castel closed the door behind her.
