Elias wiped away the sweat forming on his brow and kept his eyes trained on Honor Wesley as he knew the maître d’ watched him with as much intensity.

You very nearly ruined it, he chided himself for the umpteenth time since arriving at the hotel. Again, he was forced to remember that he was still there, on the property.

“Elias,” Honor barked. “What do you do in this situation?”

Elias shifted his eyes toward the table and looked about for anything that appeared to be amiss.

“I would fetch another fork and ensure the guest is comfortable,” Elias replied quickly.

“You do not speak to the guest unless he speaks to you first,” Honor told the new waiters, neither commending nor disapproving of Elias’ suggestion. “You are to be seen and not heard.”

Through the corner of his eye, he noted that the other waiters hung off Honor’s words but Elias was less concerned with learning restaurant etiquette than he was about knowing the employees.

The chambermaids had disappeared with Antoinette leaving the men inside the now-vacant dining room to train for lunch and dinner services. Elias was eager to move freely throughout the building but he knew he had already called far too much attention to himself by arriving late.

“Elias, you will tend to the room bells with Joshua.” Honor’s voice brought him back again and Elias nodded instinctively.

“As you wish, Mr. Wesley.”

“Come along,” a sandy haired boy whispered, nudging his arm. “You are fortunate getting such service on your first day.”

“Am I?” Elias asked pleasantly, following Joshua toward the kitchen, he noticed everything around them as they walked, his mind processing the surroundings as though he might find a clue as to what he was seeking among the artfully decorated dining room.

“I am Joshua Milner. I was born here at The Balfour,” the blonde boy explained, his voice light and happy. “My mother and father worked here until they passed and my grandfather too.”

Elias looked at the boy, gauging his age to be no more than nineteen.

“You seem pleased about that,” Elias commented. Joshua paused and stared at him with wide eyes.

“You must know this is the best hotel in which to work. You said yourself that you traveled from Peterborough to be here.”

“You heard that?” Elias asked, slightly uncomfortable.

“Everyone heard that,” Joshua laughed. “I daresay that Miss Balfour had tears in her eyes.”

“Miss Balfour? The owner’s daughter?” Elias asked as they continued into the kitchen.

“Yes. She was there for your impassioned speech also.”

Elias was instantly reminded of the finely dressed woman who had stood in the shadows and his heart skipped unexpectedly.

“Yes,” he murmured. “I saw her there.”

“She is very kind,” Joshua told him confidentially, lowering his voice. “She treats us as though we are more than just servants.”

Elias stopped at a long rectangular table and Joshua nodded to him to sit, pointing up at the wall. A series of bells hung, forty in total, each connected to a number.

“When a bell tolls, we must run to the respective room to attend to the guest. Never can this table be left unoccupied. God forbid the Duke of Workenshire be without his cigarettes for more than a moment.”

“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 parlor 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 interest in 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 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 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.”