The Balfour Series: Books 1 - 4 Read online

  “What if there are multiple bells tolling at once?” Elias wished to know and Joshua grinned disarmingly.

  “You will quickly learn who is the most important. The fifth floor is for the Balfours and their ilk. You will always tend to them first. The second floor houses the poorer of the rich who come. The third and fourth floors will invariably house the peers and wealthy merchants from abroad.”

  “I assume that means I should always ignore the second floor until the others are cared for.”

  Joshua’s face brightened more, if that were possible, and he nodded eagerly.

  “You are a quick study!” he cried, clapping Elias on the back heartily and the older man realized that he liked Joshua immediately.

  It will be important to make friends like him, he thought. He has extensive knowledge of this hotel and he is amiable enough.

  “Tell me, Joshua—”

  “You may call me Josh. All my friends do,” the boy interjected and Elias offered him a genuine smile.

  “Josh. Are you well acquainted with the staff, then?”

  He shrugged and flopped unceremoniously into a chair at Elias’ side.

  “We live in close quarters,” Joshua explained. “Many of us are the children of previous staff.”

  “Do you know—” Elias did not have an opportunity to finish his question as a bell began to chime above their heads.

  “Oh! That is the master suite—Mrs. Balfour. I will go.” Joshua rose but Elias stopped him.

  “Allow me,” he insisted to Joshua’s surprise. “I will never learn if I do not try.”

  Joshua looked to him warily.

  “I agree,” he muttered. “But I should forewarn you—Mrs. Balfour does enjoy her cups. She can be rather…unpredictable at times.”

  “I appreciate your candor,” Elias told him, hurrying as the chime of the bell grew more insistent. “I will exercise caution.”

  Before Joshua could say another word, Elias hurried toward the servant’s stairs and made his way to the fifth floor in a shockingly short time.

  If you are to run these stairs multiple times a day, you will need to conserve your stamina, Elias told himself, but his eagerness to explore the hotel was motivating him to move at a greater speed than he typically would have.

  How inane a thought. You would not be here under typical circumstances.

  The application he had submitted to serve at the Balfour Hotel had been that of sheer fiction, fabrications he had created in bits and pieces from others’ lives whom he had met along the way. In fact, Elias Compton had never waited on any guest at any hotel in his eight and twenty years of life.

  Yet, as Joshua says, I am a quick study.

  Elias knew he had little choice in the matter. He could not foil his plan, not when he was so close to finding the answers he sought.

  He rounded the corner from the stairs and collided with a body as he did, the two falling apart in a gasp of shock.

  “Pardon me!” Elias cried, righting himself immediately. His face paled when he saw who it was he had bumped.

  “Forgive me,” Miss Balfour muttered, smoothing the skirt of her dress. “I was paying no mind to where I was walking.”

  Elias stared at her, noting the unusually pasty palor of her skin. She certainly had not seemed so wan when he had seen her earlier that morning.

  “Are you well, Miss Balfour? Is there something I could fetch for you?” he asked with concern. She appeared to be breathing shortly and, as he looked to her hands, it was clear they were trembling.

  “No, no,” she muttered, turning her head away. “I am…”

  Abruptly, her eyes shifted back toward him and their gazes caught and locked just as they had earlier in the kitchen.

  “Oh!” she breathed. “You are here.”

  A pink tinge touched her cheeks as she spoke and Elias watched as she shifted her eyes away.

  “I mean to say that you have been hired.”

  “Yes, Miss. Elias Compton, at your service.”

  “Emmeline Balfour.”

  To his shock, she extended her hand and he stared at it, unsure if he was being taunted by the white glove. Joshua’s words rang through his ears.

  “She is very kind. She treats us as though we are more than just servants.”

  He accepted her palm quickly and bowed his head, knowing that if he was caught, regardless of her introduction, he would be terminated without question.

  “Welcome to the Balfour Hotel. I hope you will be very happy here.”

  “Thank you, Miss Balfour.”

  “Emmeline,” she murmured and his eyes widened again.

  “Pardon, Miss?”

  “Never mind,” she sighed, gathering her skirts. “Forgive me, Mr. Compton. I have matters to attend to at the moment but I do hope we will have an opportunity to speak again. I would like very much to know about your life in Peterborough.”

  Elias was inexplicably pleased that she had remembered from where he hailed but he warned himself not to think too deeply about her words.

  It is her business to involve herself in the comings and goings of the staff, he reasoned even though he was not certain that was so. There was a gleam in her eye, one that radiated more interest than that of an employer to an employee.

  You have no business with the likes of Emmeline Balfour, he growled to himself even as he answered, “I would enjoy that also, Miss Balfour.”

  She did not move, her amber-green eyes narrowing slightly as though she was attempting to recall something quite on the edge of her thoughts but she shook her head to shake it away.

  “Until then,” she said, her voice like warm honey.

  Can any woman be so lovely and so kind?

  “Good day.”

  He watched as she shuffled past him, using the servant’s stairs and again surprising Elias with her humility.

  She certainly does not act as though she is the daughter of the owner of the Balfour. I wonder why she has not yet married.

  He forced his feet to move toward Anne Balfour’s chambers. Even as he knocked on the door and tried to refocus his thoughts on the job before him, he could not get the image of Emmeline Balfour from his mind.

  * * *

  Joshua chuckled when Elias returned to the kitchen.

  “I see she did not go easily upon you,” Joshua jeered and Elias managed a wry smile.

  “You did not fib. She is quite…” Elias did not wish to finish his thought aloud but Joshua spared him the word.

  “Saucy, I do believe is what you are pining to say,” Joshua snickered. “I have yet to see that woman without a cup pressed to her mouth. What does she require? Is her decanter empty already? It is not even ten o’clock!”

  “She is hungry,” Elias sighed, nodding toward one of the cooks with his order for the lady of the hotel. He turned back to Joshua who had reclaimed his seat against the massive table used to feed the staff.

  “Joshua, I have a question to ask of you,” Elias told him and the boy looked to him eagerly.

  “You may ask me anything. I know this hotel better than even the Balfours,” he boasted and Elias believed him. He was, in fact, depending upon that.

  “Do you know of a chambermaid named Christiana?” Elias asked, lowering his voice lest the other staff overhear him. Joshua’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “She was fired for stealing not three months past,” Joshua replied. “Pity that. I rather liked her. Compared to some of the other abigails in this monstrosity, I daresay she was quite pleasant. But, the pay is not so good.”

  “Stealing?” Elias choked. “Christiana?”

  “It happens a fair bit. You should not be so shocked.”

  Suddenly, Joshua stared at him, his face paling.

  “You share the same surname,” Joshua muttered. “Are you related to her?”

  Elias pressed his index finger to his mouth and looked about furtively.

  “You mustn’t tell anyone,” Elias hissed quietly.

  “W-
why are you here?” Joshua asked nervously. “If Mr. Wesley learns that you are related to a thief…”

  “I find it impossible to believe Christiana would steal a scrap of discarded food,” Elias growled. “Something else has happened to her.”

  “How can you be certain?” Joshua insisted.

  “If she was fired, she would have written or returned home but I have not heard a word from her in three months.”

  “Perhaps she was embarrassed and wanted to spare your family the shame.”

  A mirthless smile touched Elias’ mouth.

  “I assure you, Christiana would not have done that.”

  “This may be difficult to accept, Elias but siblings are not always how we recall them in their youth. Perhaps this time apart has brought forth the devil in her—”

  “She is not my sister,” Elias sighed, sitting back and shaking his head.

  “Oh…your cousin then?”

  “No,” Elias grunted. “She is my wife.”

  3

  “He is still occupied, Miss Balfour,” Matthew explained. “Shall I have him send for you when he is done?”

  “With whom is he in conference?” Emmeline asked, trying to peer through the glass but the curtains were drawn.

  “Mr. Greene, Miss Balfour.”

  The mere sound of his name made her blood run cold. She stepped away from the concierge desk.

  “I will return. Do not tell my father I was seeking him,” she told Matthew, spinning toward the kitchen. She wished the day had not taken on such a bitterness. She longed to go for a walk and clear her mind.

  I am not thinking rationally, she thought, sauntering aimlessly through the busy galley.

  The clanging of pots and pans was often cathartic to Emmeline’s ears, a soothing chaos somehow. It reminded her of childhood, the same scents tantalizing her nostrils as she moved through the steaming kitchen to stand off in the shadows alone.

  “You look as though you are thoroughly enjoying that spot.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and laughed nervously as she realized that Elias Compton stood at her back.

  “I did not see you there, Mr. Compton.”

  “You may call me Elias, Miss Balfour. It is your right.”

  She nodded.

  “All right, Elias,” she agreed, facing him fully. “Has Honor demoted you to the kitchen now?”

  He chuckled at her jest.

  “Not yet, Miss but there is time. I fear he has been watching me quite closely since I arrived.”

  “You must not take it personally, Elias. This hotel is the most prestigious in these parts and Honor does take his duties quite seriously. I daresay, if he did not like you, he would not have hired you at all.”

  “I will take your advisement on the matter, Miss Balfour.”

  He moved past her.

  “I should get back to work before he realizes I have snuck away.”

  “Why have you snuck away?” she called after him. “Is the work too much?”

  “No, Miss,” he replied quickly. “I was merely warming myself by the hearth.”

  He vanished into the crowd of servants and Emmeline found herself watching after him. It was not until she heard a slight grunt at her side that she turned her head to peer at another waiter.

  “Good morrow, Josh. Are you well?” she asked sweetly.

  “Yes, Miss Balfour,” he muttered but Emmeline could see that something troubled him.

  “Is there a matter?”

  He swallowed visibly and shook his head. Emmeline did not believe him.

  “Joshua, we used to run amok together,” she reminded him gently. “I daresay you have even pulled my hair. There is nothing you cannot tell me.”

  He looked at her uncertainly and again moved his eyes away.

  “I-it is not my place, Miss Balfour,” he mumbled, his eyes trained on the ground. “But as you say, we have a long history.”

  “Then do speak freely. I can assure you of my confidences.”

  He inhaled and looked over his shoulder, in the direction where Elias had gone.

  “It is the new waiter, Miss Balfour. I fear that he has come here with bad intentions.”

  Defensiveness fused through Emmeline, though she could not say why. She had no reason to doubt Joshua. On the contrary, in fact. She regarded him as almost kin and yet his words bothered her greatly.

  She held in her thoughts and peered at him speculatively.

  “What basis have you for such a claim?”

  He fiddled nervously with his fingers and smoothed back his hair quickly, all while keeping his eyes averted.

  “Miss Balfour, he confessed to me that he is here in search of Christiana Compton.”

  Of course! Compton. I knew I recalled the name!

  “She is no longer employed here, am I correct?” Emmeline replied, trying to recall the last time she had seen the dark-haired woman about the hotel. “It has been a few months, has it not?”

  “Yes, Miss Balfour…”

  Emmeline waited expectantly.

  “What is it?”

  “She was fired for stealing, Miss.”

  Emmeline suddenly understood Joshua’s conflict.

  “I see,” she murmured. “And now her kin has come to work here. Has he explained why?”

  “I feel rather disloyal speaking like this,” Joshua breathed as though he only then realized that he would be unable to retract his words. “Forgive me, Miss Balfour for he seems like a decent enough chap.”

  “But you question his presence. I do not think you an unreasonable sort. Why has he come?”

  “He claims he has not heard from Christiana in months and has come to locate her.”

  “Perhaps she does not wish to be found.”

  “I had suggested the same, Miss but he was adamant that it was not natural for her to go without word.”

  “I fear we do not know our family as well as we sometimes hope,” Emmeline sighed.

  “I also said as much,” Joshua replied, sounding relieved that he had absolution in the matter. “I feel foolish for bringing this to you, Miss Balfour, but I did see him speaking with you and I felt you should know that his heart is not in the hotel or the guests.”

  Emmeline’s lips pressed firmly together as she considered what to do next. She remembered how desperate Elias had sounded to be given a chance at the job, despite his late arrival.

  Whatever his reasons, he genuinely wishes to be here. Should I end this charade or simply permit it to work itself out?

  “I have given you another burden to manage,” Joshua sighed. “Forgive me, Miss.”

  “This is not a burden and you need not apologize. What good am I if not to resolve issues pertaining to the hotel?”

  “I cannot say this is an issue,” Joshua said, worry clouding his features, but Emmeline smiled at him reassuringly.

  “You need not worry, Josh. I will handle the matter delicately and with discretion. Your name need not come into the matter at all.”

  “Thank you, Miss Balfour. You are too kind.”

  He bowed and moved away as Emmeline pondered what she had been told.

  What had come of Christiana Compton?

  If anyone would know, it would be Antoinette.

  * * *

  Emmeline found the housekeeper on the third floor, overseeing her chambermaids wearing her usual pinched expression.

  “There, Cora. You are missing the corners as always.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Baxter.”

  “Antoinette, may I have a word with you?” Emmeline asked.

  “Certainly, Miss Balfour. Is everything well?”

  “I have a question for you about a maid who worked here not three months past.”

  “I fear we have had a rather high turnaround in the past months, Miss Balfour. You must be more specific.”

  “Christiana Compton. Do you recall her? She was Mrs. Balfour’s abigail for a time, was she not?”

  A darkness fell over Antoinette’s expressi
ons and her mouth thinned into a tight line.

  “Yes.”

  Emmeline stared at her expectantly.

  “What became of her?”

  “She was terminated.”

  “For what cause?”

  “Stealing, if I recall. Should you wish to know more, you must speak with your father about the matter, Miss Balfour. He was directly responsible for ending her employment. Is there another matter?”

  Emmeline blinked at the abrupt dismissal, a peculiar niggling arising from her gut.

  “Is that commonplace?” Emmeline asked, refusing to let the matter go, despite Antoinette’s reluctance to continue to discuss it.

  “Pardon?”

  “My father does not often get involved in the affairs of the maids. Why was he the one to relieve her of her duties?”

  Antoinette turned her head, pretending to examine the servants’ work but Emmeline knew the woman well enough to know she was avoiding the question.

  “I could not say, Miss Balfour but in this instance, he did.”

  Rudely, Antoinette walked away and Emmeline gaped after her.

  Is she lying to me or hiding something?

  “My word, you are impossible to find some days,” Xavier grumbled, appearing at the end of the hall. “Father is looking for you.”

  “Is he? How interesting. I was seeking him too.”

  She followed her brother along the halls and he cast her a nervous look.

  “You spoke with Mother about the betrothal,” he sighed and Emmeline stopped walking.

  “I did.”

  “I wish you had not.”

  Anger flashed through her.

  “What would you have me do?”

  Xavier exhaled heavily and faced his sister.

  “This is not the place to discuss this, Emmy but I do know you are overwhelmed. When you speak with Father, do try to keep your wits about you. Dissolving into a fit of histrionics will solve nothing.”

  “According to Mother, there is nothing to be solved. The matter is done.”

  “That may well be, Emmy but why do you protest? Surely you knew you were to be wed one day.”