The Peony Lantern by Frances Watts Read Free Book Online Page A

house at night were opened. Aware of noise from the kitchen, I hastily rose and pulled a clean kimono on over my under-kimono,then walked through the series of rooms that led to the kitchen. The futon on which Isamu had slept had already been put away, I noticed, and the reception room opened onto a deck that led to a garden from which I could hear Isamu’s voice, so familiar to me now, mingling with that of his uncle. I stepped into the kitchen, which was dim and smoky, and saw Ishi stirring a pot at the stove, Misaki supervising her.
    â€˜Good morning, my lady.’ I bowed low at the door and she looked up briefly. Standing behind the stove in a plain cotton kimono not so different from my own, she looked less young and fragile than she had the night before. Seeing her now, I was sure I had dreamed the exchange I’d heard — about secrets, about danger . . .
    â€˜I hope you slept well, Kasumi,’ she said briskly.
    â€˜Yes, my lady. How can I help you?’
    â€˜We’ll serve my husband and his nephew their breakfast before I dress.’
    It was a relief to be doing the same task I might have been doing at home — though on a much smaller scale, as we had only two men to serve and not an inn full of guests.
    Misaki and I assembled trays with a bowl of miso soup and one of rice, and carried them into the room just as Shimizu and his nephew entered, both dressed formally in stiff-shouldered jackets and wide-legged hakama . I felt suddenly shy to see Isamu like this; he was no longer my familiar travelling companion and his manner seemed more subdued.
    Misaki kneeled before her husband, bowed, then placed the tray in front of him and I did the same for Isamu.
    â€˜Thank you, ladies. I’ll be taking Isamu over to the domain mansion this morning.’
    I kept my eyes on the floor, surprised by the pang I felt at the thought of his leaving. Would I see him again? I wondered.
    Isamu finished his breakfast and went to see to his luggage, and Misaki returned to the kitchen for some more rice for her husband, leaving me alone with Lord Shimizu.
    â€˜So, Kasumi, I’ll be relying on you.’
    With my father’s admonishments about appropriate behaviour in mind, I had been kneeling quietly with my face downcast, but now I looked up in astonishment.
    Shimizu was cradling a teacup in his hands, his thumb idly stroking the rim. He said quietly, ‘Misaki and I only married two months ago, and I’ve been away for six weeks of that time already. My business for the daimyo keeps me very busy and I’m worried she’ll be lonely. She’s not from my own domain, you see; she’s from Morioka and doesn’t know anyone in Edo. You’ll be good company for her, and I hope you will do a service for me.’
    â€˜Of course, sir.’ I felt that I would do anything to help him. My father had dismissed me as useless, but Shimizu had chosen me to come to Edo and attend his beautiful wife. If he was about to share the secret with me, I would guard it with my life.
    The samurai smiled faintly. ‘Your father tells me you are observant; I want you to be my ears and eyes — if Misaki appears to be troubled, to be suffering, if anyone should cause her distress, I want you to tell me. Can you do that?’
    â€˜Yes, sir.’ He rose even further in my estimation. I was sure most husbands wouldn’t be so sensitive. AndI had an answer to one question, at least. Father may not have meant to praise my powers of observation — watching wasn’t work as far as he was concerned — but Lord Shimizu thought my skill was valuable, that I might be of some real use. But what did he think would cause his wife distress? Perhaps the other ladies would tell me. But when was I going to meet them?
    While Misaki accompanied her husband and his nephew to the gate, I carried the men’s empty trays to the kitchen. ‘Ishi,’ I whispered, ‘where are the