Labyrinth Gate Read Online Free PDF Page B

little belligerently, as if daring him to come up with some explanation.
    He was now sitting up, examining first the dressing gown of white lace and frills that lay on the chair on his side of the bed, then the dressing table beyond. “Whatever do they use all those drawers for?” he said to no one. He turned to look at his wife. “I don’t know, sweetheart. And I’m not going to make a guess until I’ve got more evidence.”
    “Said just like your father,” said Chryse, but with humor. “I know we’re not dreaming, but it’s impossible—isn’t it? Last night I thought we would wake up and discover that your sister had played an elaborate practical joke on us. I think that’s the only reason I was able to act with any degree of outward rationality. My other choice was catatonia.”
    “An unusual state for you.”
    She made a face at him.
    “I do know one thing, though,” he added.
    “Which is?”
    He lifted up the lace dressing gown. “You put the wrong one on.”
    They both began to laugh, cut off when a knock sounded on the door. Sanjay sat back under the covers. The door opened silently and a girl’s face appeared.
    “Begging pardon, Madame—Oh!” She looked surprised. “And Monsieur. I brought your chocolate. An’ Betty’s here to stoke the fire up.”
    Sanjay grabbed the bed curtains and quickly pulled them shut.
    “Please come in,” said Chryse, feeling at a loss. The first girl entered bearing a tray with cups and two steaming pitchers. A second girl, younger and just as neatly dressed, followed and went directly to the fire after offering a brief curtsey to Chryse.
    “Shall I pour for you and Monsieur, Madame?” asked the first girl.
    “Oh, ah, thank you,” replied Chryse. She walked over to the door to her dressing room, half recalled from the night before. Opening it, she found a huge space. Her gown had been hung up, and her suitcase’s contents unpacked and hung up as well. In the vast space, the few outfits looked meagre. Sanjay’s clothes were, she presumed, beyond the door on the other side of the bedroom.
    “If you’re wishing to dress, Madame,” said the first girl tentatively, “I can help you, or Lady Trent’s dresser, Miss Botherwell, can be called. She’s ever so good. Oh, and Lord Vole’s valet for Monsieur.”
    Chryse turned around rather quickly. “No, thank you. I think we can manage for ourselves, if—all—” She faltered. “Thank you.”
    The girl curtsied, a slight smile on her face as she glanced once quickly at the closed bed curtains, and she hurried the other maid out in front of her.
    “Are they gone?” asked Sanjay from behind the drapes as the door clicked to.
    “Coward,” said Chryse.
    The curtains opened slowly. “Perhaps I’ve just woken up in one of my previous lives, as a rajah.” He offered Chryse the elegant lace dressing gown in exchange for the one she was wearing. “Imagine needing someone to help you dress.”
    “I had to have help getting into my wedding dress. Good lord, this is almost obscene, with all this lace. I’m afraid to sit down.” She did so anyway, next to the tray of hot chocolate. “Do you want a cup? It’s very good. Do you know, somehow I don’t suppose they have showers here. But they’ve left us a pitcher of hot water and some towels, and there’s a basin over there. Oh well. I’m just glad I only drank one glass of champagne last night.”
    “Why?” Sanjay had gotten up and was now examining the contents of his dressing room.
    “What are those hallucinations you get when you drink too much? Delirium something?” She gave a slight laugh and poured herself another cup of cocoa. “Worse, imagine having to face this with a massive hangover.”
    “Chryse,” said Sanjay rather plaintively from the closet, “do you think I can wear my jeans?” There was a brief silence, broken by his voice coming from farther away. “There’s a whole second bedroom in here.”
    “Aunt Laetitia did call it the