Armand’s brow rose. “What does that entail?”
“Oh, you know. Ritualistic dances. A ceremonial bonfire. And, um…”
“Sacrifices,” Anaïs added.
“Yes, sacrifi—wait, no.” She sent her sister a scolding look.
“Not ofpeople,” her sister said. “Just a drop of blood or two.”
Mallory cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, that sort of exorcism can be very…”
“Dramatic,” Anaïs said. She spread her hands above the table, painting a visual picture. “After the bloodletting, everyone presentmust dance in the moonlight and howl like a pack of banshees. And, oh! We’ll all be completely nude. It is a sight to behold.”
The room went silent as Anaïs lifted her wineglass to toast her own ingenuity.
“Which is why,” Mallory said through clenched teeth, “I’ve determined to try some more prosaic methods first.”
“Suit yourself,” Anaïs sang. “If you don’t want a perfectly valid excuse to lower some inhibitions and discard a few layers of clothing…”
The maid turned so fast that she sloshed wine from the bottle across the front of Mallory’s gown.
Mallory gasped, pushing away from the table.
“Julie!” scolded the butler.
“It’s fine,” said Mallory, dabbing at the lace that would no doubt be forever stained crimson. Julie wet the corner of a napkin and pressed it to the fabric covering Mallory’s chest. A bolt of pain lanced across Mallory’s sternum, and she yanked herself away, grabbing the napkin from the maid’s hand. “I can do that. Thanks.”
“Was she joking?” asked Lucienne, leaning closer to Béatrice. “About the naked dancing? It sounded like a good time, if you ask me. Well, maybe not the part about the blood sacrifices.”
Béatrice shook her head. “It sounds awful. So I suspect you would enjoy it very much.”
Lucienne preened.
“I really am so sorry,” said Julie. “I can be quite clumsy—”
“It’s all right,” said Armand, who had half risen from his seat and still hovered there, trying to determine what he could do to help.
But Claude intervened. “Julie, why don’t you take these dishes back to the kitchen?”
Julie appeared horrified, but relaxed when Armand sat down and sent her a comforting smile. Cheeks tinted red, she bowed her head and scurried away.
As the stab of pain in Mallory’s chest faded, she felt a bump against her leg. Anaïs was taking advantage of the distraction to shuffle two soup spoons and a butter knife into her pocket. “Silver!” she whispered.
“Respectable,” Mallory whispered back.
Anaïs shrugged, as if a little impropriety couldn’t be helped.
As the room settled again, Mallory took a long draft of her wine, emptying the goblet. As she was setting the goblet back on the table, movement at a far window caught her attention. With darkness having long descended outside, the glass reflected the flames from chandeliers throughout the banquet hall, and… a figure. A man in a finely embroidered jacket and lace cravat, with a trim beard and vivid blue eyes. The reflection was framed perfectly between the heavy window drapes, a dark smile playing across his mouth.
He caught Mallory staring at him.
His grin widened. He raised a finger to his lips, as if urging her to keep a secret.
A reflection passed in front of the man as the butler walked by the window, and the spirit was gone.
Mallory inhaled slowly. “When you speak of the wolf, you often see its tail,” she murmured. Only Anaïs heard her, and shot her a curious look, while Yvette was still spouting apologies. Something about how the maid was young and easily distracted. How she’dbeen trained for tending to the rooms, but not yet for dining service, and how—
“It’s all right, Yvette,” said Armand. “If Miss Fontaine’s dress is ruined, we will get her a new one.”
