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Silently they ascended one flight, then two. On the landing between the third and fourth floors, he paused, stared at the wall, then pressed hard on one of the posts supporting it. It gave, and a narrow door opened. Emalyn’s eyes widened as she stared at the dark passage beyond it.
“What the devil—”
He shushed her again and stepped inside. On a small table on the other side of the door, several candles and two small lamps waited. Philip lit the two lamps and handed one to Emalyn, then pushed the door closed and led her down the passageway. They passed several closed doors before Philip took a left turn, then a right. They could not walk abreast, and Philip frequently glanced back, as if to make sure she still followed.
“Philip, where are we?”
“The old servants’ quarters. More than one hundred years ago, this was where they lived. Then they constructed the west wing, and the servants have lived on the top two floors of it ever since. These are used when we need extra rooms for our guests’ servants.”
“Like for a big Christmas ball?”
“Yes. Like that. Although I think they are only using those first two hallways this time.” Philip paused in front of one of the rooms and knocked lightly. When there was no answer, he opened the door and peered around it. “Come on.”
Emalyn could hear the ball’s orchestra as she took a tentative step into the room, the music a joyous, distant echo. She had not been inside many of the servants’ rooms, but this one seemed comfortable if unoccupied. It held two narrow beds with bare mattresses, two bedside tables, two chests of drawers, two small chairs, one wardrobe, and one writing table with a stool. But what amazed her the most was that the room blazed with light streaming in from a glass pane in the far wall. “How—”
Philip took her lamp from her and set both on a table. “Do you remember, in the ballroom, those rows of black squares near the ceiling on the east and west walls?”
She nodded. “They have gold frames.”
“The frames are decorative, but the squares are windows, designed to let in the sunlight from the ballroom’s skylights. They appear black in the ballroom because there’s no light in these rooms.”
Emalyn stared at the window. One of the most magnificent features of the Ashton Park ballroom was its arched—and primarily glass—ceiling, which warmed the room in the winter and allowed for daytime events without a lot of extra lamps and candles.
Philip picked up a stool and carried it to the window, then held out his hand. “Step up on the stool.”
“That does not look stable.”
“Do not worry. I will not let you fall.”
The tone in his voice made Emalyn look up at him, and she saw the expected seriousness. Philip had a lovely sense of humor, but his serious nature sometimes overwhelmed it. “You will catch me if I fall?”
“Always.”
Her stomach fluttered as his hand never wavered. Emalyn took it, and he put a steadying hand on her waist. Standing on the stool put her eye level with him, and she realized for the first time that his blue eyes had a darker ring around the outside of the iris—a look that was mesmerizing. “Philip—”
“Just look.” He nodded to the window.
She did. And gasped, her mouth gaping as she stared at the fairy tale kingdom below her.
Illuminated by the dazzling light of the chandeliers, the ballroom seemed to glow. The evergreens draped in red ribbons—along with the scattering of white chalk on the dance floor to keep satin slippers from sliding unexpectedly—made it appear as if a parade of princesses were being escorted through a snow-drenched forest. The music from the orchestra soared, louder now that she stood next to the window. The dancers pranced through a Scotch reel, their feet flying as skirts and curls flounced. Liveried footmen weaved through the crowds around the edges, offering glasses of lemonade, champagne, and ratafia.
“It’s magnificent.”
“It is quite the party.”
“Can they see us?”
“Possibly, if they happen to look up, but it would be difficult to determine exactly who we are. We are a mere shadow on the glass.”
“And you are certain of this because...”
“This is hardly my first time in this room.”
Emalyn watched as the dance ended, the orchestra re-tuned, and the dancers on the floor changed out. She turned to Philip with a grin. “So you have a long history of spying on people?”
His smile made his eyes sparkle. “When our tutors were first beginning to teach us to dance, I wanted to see the steps in action. How it would look with women instead of just us boys.”
Emalyn studied him a moment, her curiosity arching again. “You do not like the unknown?”
