Mai returned Mrs Sakauchi's visit the following day. She briefly met Mr Sakauchi, a sullen man who Mrs Sakauchi promised was much more cheerful once he became better acquainted.
"He's nervous around new people, and has a tendency for quiet depressed moods. But when we are alone, or in well known company, he is a delight. A wonderful storyteller."
The Sakauchi's lived in a house much smaller than Harker Hall, but as far as Mai could gather, Mr Sakauchi were the other major landowner in the area.
"We hold a Christmas ball here every year," Mrs Sakauchi said. "I would be honoured if you would attend."
"I would be delighted."
"Lady Pembridge used to hold it, but after the death of her husband, we took up the mantle."
"I am sure she would be most grateful that the tradition continued," Mai said. "When is it to be?"
"The Saturday before Christmas Day. Please extend the invitation to Lord Pembridge."
"I will, though I have no doubt he will not attend. You said that your husband is quiet, but Lord Pembridge may as well be a painting on the wall. I only see him at meal times."
Mrs Sakauchi looked away.
"Yes, I imagine he was also greatly affected by the loss of his father and brother."
"Yes, I imagine so."
When the visit was finished, Mai took the carriage to the town. She perused the bookshop before making her way to the small modiste.
"Good morning, Madam, how may I be of assistance? I have not seen you in my shop before?"
"I am Lady Astley, I have recently moved to the area and was hoping to order a dress for the Sakauchi's Christmas ball."
"My Lady, I did not mean any offence, I—"
"It is quite all right!" Mai insisted. "You did not know and you were perfectly polite, pray, what is your name?"
"Mrs Clark, my Lady."
"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Clark. As I mentioned before, I am looking for a dress for the Sakauchi's Christmas Ball, are you able to help me?"
"Of course, my Lady. What do you have in mind? Please, take a look at the fabrics I have on display!"
Mai did take a look, and her eye was drawn by a rich forest green silk.
"That colour would suit your complexion, my Lady."
"And it is very festive, is it not?"
"Indeed," Mrs Clark agreed. "Perhaps with gold trim?"
She held up various trims for Mai to study.
"Oh yes, you have a good eye for this, no wonder you are spoken of highly in this town."
"You flatter me, my Lady."
"I speak only of what I have heard. I have seen examples of your work, it is a wonder you have not taken to Bath or London. Your work could fetch a heavier price."
"My husband does not agree with the London air, and I like this town. I grew up not far from here."
Mai smiled.
"I understand, we are lucky to have you. Please, I will take this gold trim, perhaps with a matching ribbon if you can find it. And the green silk."
"Of course, my Lady. May I take your measurements?"
After the measurements were taken, styles of dress discussed and a quick chat about Mr Clark, who happened to be the tailor, Mai departed. The footmen that had accompanied her were waiting outside.
"I would like to return to the bookshop, if you would not mind? Then we shall return to Harker Hall."
"Yes, my Lady."
Once back in the bookshop, Mai perused the shelves for educational tomes. Not on languages or history, nor the sciences.
No, she looked for a book on the supernatural. On ghosts and demons and—"
"Can I help you, my Lady?"
"Ah, yes, Mr…?"
"Mr Smith."
"Mr Smith, my new dear friend recently told me the most wonderful tale about a ghost and other things of that nature, and I have found myself enamoured with the idea. I was wondering if you had any books of a similar nature?"
Mr Smith narrowed his eyes a little.
"Yes, my Lady, we have a few fictional tales over here."
"Nothing more educational?"
"They are just stories, my Lady, nothing more. Are you interested in them?"
Mai thought for a moment.
"Yes, I will take them."
She exited the bookshop with a bundle under one arm, which the footman took from her without question.
"To Harker Hall, my Lady?"
"Yes, to Harker Hall."
The books that Mr Smith had provided her with contained many fanciful tales. One of a child's ghost haunting a park. Another of demons possessing women to seduce innocent men. Witches corrupting men of the church. The last tale was of a creature brought back from the dead, a vampire, that drank the blood of every human it found.
Mai finished the books quicker than she would have liked. She shelved them in her quarters and sought out the library. She had a little time before dinner, perhaps Lord Pembridge or his ancestors had also taken an interest in the supernatural.
She opened the doors to the library to find it occupied.
"It is not yet dinner time, Lin, you cannot nag me yet," Lord Pembridge said from his chair.
"My apologies, but I am not Mr Lin."
He looked up.
"Lady Astley, I did not see you."
"It is quite all right. I finished my book and desired another. May I peruse your offerings? Or should I come back at another time?"
"As long as you do not tarnish my books with tea stains, you may borrow any of them. And put them back in their proper places. I will know if you have not."
Mai smiled.
"My own father was the same, he was very particular about the ordering of his books."
"He sounds like a sensible man, your father, I would like to meet him."
"He is dead. He passed a little before my marriage."
Whatever gaiety Lord Pembridge's face held was lost.
"My apologies."
"You were not to know."
He gestured to the shelves. Mai nodded and began to search. They were ordered alphabetically, as far as Mai could tell. Though the fiction and non-fiction had been separated.
She scanned the shelves for so long that Lin eventually turned up to nag them both to go to dinner. Noting where she had finished, Mai followed Lord Pembridge to dinner, passing Madoka as they went, who gave her a suggestive look.
Mai frowned at her.
Dinner was a silent affair, much like usual. Until dessert, when Mai thought to bring up the Sakauchi's ball.
"I visited Mrs Sakauchi today," she said. "And she has invited us both to their Christmas Ball."
"The ball she stole from my mother, yes, I imagine she has…"
"Your mother is not here to organise it," Mai pointed out. "And from what I've heard, the celebration is quite loved within the community."
Lord Pembridge scowled and continued eating.
"You have previously hinted you have no interest in such activities, why does it matter to you that Mrs Sakauchi organises such an event?"
He frowned, pondering the question.
"I dislike change, Lady Astley. I despised those balls every year. My mother would dress my brother and I up in ridiculously frilly suits so that her friends could coo over us. She would make us dance with old ladies she claimed to know and the only fun part would be sneaking away with some food. But looking back on it…" He gained a wistful look in his eye. "I enjoyed sneaking away with my brother. We would rip off the frilly cravats and sit up on the balcony with our stolen sweets, throwing things at the dancers to see if we could make them misstep. Nothing serious, little things like apple seeds and the like."
"You must have been a menace!"
"We were…" He sighed. "There is none of that at Mrs Sakauchi's balls."
"No, I guess not."
"She does not have a balcony above her ballroom for a start."
"Their house seemed nice enough."
"It might be, but it is not Harker Hall."
Mai ate a little more.
"It is a shame you will not dance," she said. "You are a fine dancer."
"You have never seen me dance," Lord Pembridge countered.
"I have, the other night—"
"When you were practically asleep?" he demanded, his countenance changed. "And pray, what dance do you think I was doing?"
"It… It was a waltz," Mai said, straining to remember.
"My mother would never have taught me how to waltz. It is scandalous in polite society and improper in private. I find myself quite uncomfortable that you would imagine me partaking in something so intimate."
Mai's cheeks flushed red.
"I am sorry, my Lord. I did not mean any offence, I—"
"Perhaps you ought to keep your dreams to yourself, Lady Astley. I will take my leave of you."
He wiped his mouth with a serviette, stood up and dropped the white fabric on the table before striding out of the room.
Mai, alarmed, pushed her own food away from her. She waited a moment in an attempt to catch the breath that had escaped her, before leaving herself. She returned to her own quarters, her search for a book long forgotten.
"Lady Astley?"
It was Madoka.
"Yes?"
"Are you well?"
"Yes," Mai lied. "Quite well."
"You came with Lord Pembridge to dinner?"
"We both happened to be in the library. I wanted something else to read. There is nothing to read into there, Miss Mori."
"Yes, my Lady, I did not mean—"
"He is a fine gentleman, but he has indicated he has no interest in me."
"I—"
"Perhaps you should turn in for the night, Miss Mori, I desire to be quite alone right now."
"Of course, my Lady. I will see you in the morning."
Madoka left.
Mai poked the fire and fussed with a few of the curtains, ensuring the heat of the room was trapped.
Had it been a dream?
But if so, why would she dream of Lord Pembridge in such a way?
He had been right. A waltz would be unheard of at a public or private ball. She could not imagine anyone partaking in such an activity unless bound by wedlock and in the privacy of their own house. No matter what those on the continent may do. England would never waltz.
Lord Pembridge was a fine fellow though. He was tall, though not as tall as Lord Astley had been. His face was pleasing to gaze upon. His conversation...
Mai frowned.
Some of their conversations had been perfectly pleasant, and yet he had a habit to turn to the taciturn with a moment's notice. It reminded her a little of how her mother had been whenever she was stressed about something. Not necessarily meaning cruelty and yet achieving it nonetheless.
Night fell as Mai pondered these matters.
Taking a lit candle, she strode from her bedchamber towards the ballroom's balcony. Once there, she stood, looking down upon the dance floor. The moonlight lit the room.
Perhaps shadows had tricked her tired brain.
She took several deep breaths, before resolving to apologise to Lord Pembridge the following day. He had been right. She had imagined it.
She returned to her room and placed the lit candle down. The household slept, and she knew she ought to as well.
One of the curtains allowed a sliver of moonlight through its gap. She moved to close it, but through the gap spotted light from the other side of the house. Frowning, she opened the curtains a little.
On the other side of the courtyard, in the forbidden West Wing, there was a light. Like the flickering of a fire.
The words of caution regarding the West Wing swirled around her mind. If there was someone in there, they would get hurt. Hadn't someone died there?
She reached again for her candle and resolved to find the person. If a curious maid came to ills and she had not acted—
She could not bear the thought.
Mai paid little heed to the sound her steps were making as she hurried through the house. She made it past the grand staircase and through the first set of double doors. She had never been to this part of the house before, but as it mirrored the other side of the house, she knew where to go.
The room where she had seen the fire would be the equivalent of her own bed chambers. She made towards another set of doors—
"Lady Astley, you seem to find yourself quite lost, might I assist you?"
Mai spun around. Lin loomed over her, his own candle in hand.
"Mr Lin! You startled me."
"My Lady, this area of the house is not safe."
"I know, but I saw a fire through my window. There is someone in there. I thought only to warn them."
Lin frowned.
"A fire?"
"Yes, in the room that mirrors my own."
"Ah, yes, Lord Pembridge and myself were untaking some inspections earlier today. We must have left it. I will see to it now."
Mai's brows furrowed. An uneasy sensation in her chest told her Lin was not being entirely truthful with her.
"Ah, I see. Well, I'll return to bed."
"Goodnight, my Lady."
"Goodnight, Mr Lin."
By the time Mai had returned to her room, the curtains on the other side of the building had been drawn. If the fire was still lit, she could not see it. Nonplussed, she went to bed.
Author's note: Ha! Look at me go, remembering to update when I said I would... I'm currently avoiding planning my next story by studying statistics so... That's something...