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

other ladies?’
    Ishi looked up from the sink. ‘What other ladies?’
    â€˜The ladies who attend Misaki-san.’
    â€˜There are no other ladies, dear. You’re the only one.’
    I gaped at her. ‘But hasn’t she brought anyone with her from Morioka?’
    â€˜Not a soul. She came to Edo all alone.’
    That struck me as peculiar, but I supposed that even if Ishi knew why no one had accompanied Misaki, she wouldn’t tell me. Lord Shimizu’s servants would all be loyal. Come to think of it, where were all the servants? Surely a man of such high rank would have an army of them. ‘Is there a large household staff?’ I asked.
    Ishi frowned at the pan she was scrubbing. ‘Just me to oversee the running of the house and kitchen, and Otami to do the cleaning and the laundry.’
    Only two . . . ‘And outside the house?’
    â€˜There’s the gardener and Goro, the night guard.’ I had a sudden memory of a short squat man with the protuberant eyes of a toad standing by the gate the night before. It must’ve been he and the gardener who hadcarried in our luggage. ‘And the master has a manservant, Haru. You’ll have met him already.’
    â€˜I thought there would be more,’ I said.
    â€˜Our master is a true samurai,’ Ishi declared with pride. ‘He might be of the highest rank, but he believes in working hard and living humbly.’
    Misaki entered the kitchen at that moment, and the cook and I ceased our conversation.
    â€˜We can have our own breakfast now,’ Misaki said.
    As my mistress and I ate the leftovers from the breakfast cooked for the men, I watched her surreptitiously. Her forehead was furrowed slightly, and she concentrated fiercely on her bowl of soup as if to discourage conversation.
    I had barely finished half my own bowl before she set hers down and stalked from the room.
    I abandoned my breakfast to follow her.
    â€˜Ishi has been doing my hair until now,’ she said over her shoulder as we walked through the reception room which a maid — Otami, I presumed — was sweeping. ‘A cook!’
    I was taken aback by the disdain in her voice. Was this the same woman who had spoken so sweetly to her husband, had so ardently declared her love for him? (If I hadn’t dreamed it, of course, and I was growing more and more sure that I had.)
    â€˜Thank goodness I’ll no longer need to rely on her.’
    â€˜Yes, my lady,’ I said. Why would she no longer need Ishi? I wondered. Then it dawned on me. It would be my job to do her hair. I had known this would likely be one of my duties, but I’d thought there would be other ladies to teach me. I felt a stirring of anxiety in my chest.
    In the room where Misaki and her husband had slept the futons had been put away in the built-in cupboard. We went through to a smaller room of four mats. Several silk kimonos hung over rails. Tentatively I reached out to stroke one, the fabric smooth and slippery beneath my fingers.
    â€˜You’ll find everything you need on the dressing table here.’
    I looked up as she spoke and, in the light glowing through the rice-paper screen separating the room from the garden, I saw what had last night been concealed by her makeup and this morning by the dimness of the kitchen: a shiny scar bloomed across her left cheek.
    I must have gasped, because Misaki put a hand to her cheek self-consciously. ‘The makeup covers it well. You know what they say: a light skin conceals seven other defects.’
    â€˜You don’t have seven defects to conceal, my lady,’ I protested, because it was true. Other than the ugly scar, Misaki was exquisite, with large eyes in an oval face and a long straight nose. Her face was pale even without the makeup and her teeth had been blackened with dye, presumably recently given she hadn’t been married long.
    â€˜How did you —?’ I began, then stopped