Free ARC: The Buried Life by Carrie Patel Page A

man who enlists the services of specialty laundresses? Or whose recommendations on the same would be trusted?”
    Arnault paused, and Jane, whose repertoire of etiquette offered no guidance for this kind of conversation, listened hopefully for Lena’s footsteps. “You can disagree with me, especially if I’m so pompous as to make sweeping generalizations about you, someone I have known for all of two minutes.” He took a deep breath, and Jane felt herself do the same. “So, Jane Lin, are you ready to tell me what you really think?”
    Jane heard the words come out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying. “It’s easy for you to say so when you can get away with visiting a councilor dressed like that.”
    Arnault’s expression changed slowly, his eyebrows lifting and his lips drawing back.
    “I’m sorry,” Jane said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
    But he looked amused. “Speaking your mind is nothing to be sorry for, Miss Lin. I find a little honesty refreshing, especially in this neighborhood. So, how does a nice girl like you end up in it?”
    “Everybody has dirty laundry, Mr Arnault.”
    He chuckled, but in a way that suggested a private joke. “How right you are.”
    “And you, sir? What kind of business are you in?”
    “There’s no need to ‘sir’ me, Miss Lin. As for the business… I suppose you could say that I’m in the same line of work that you are.” He took another drag on his cigarette.
    Jane looked him up and down, taking in his outfit again. “If we’re being candid, Mr. Arnault, I find that hard to believe.”
    “It’s a metaphor, Miss Lin.”
    “Should I be honest again?”
    “Always.”
    “It sounds like a bad one.”
    Arnault considered the clove cigarette between his fingers. “To return to your modest habits,” he said, holding the cigarette in the air between them, “you avoid these because…?”
    Jane blinked. She didn’t want to mention that a habit like that was absurd for someone on her income. “They kill. From the inside.”
    “So do a lot of things,” Arnault said. “And people. And just like your dirty laundry, some things are best kept private.”
    He said it with a twinkle in his eye, but the memory of the overheard conversation sent flutters through Jane’s stomach. “Are you always this friendly with the domestic help, Mr Arnault?”
    “I’m not friendly with anyone.”
    “Then I have grossly misinterpreted our brief encounter.”
    “That’s because you’re a good influence, Miss Lin, and you should stay for tea.”
    Jane could not begin to fathom the reaction were she to have tea in Councilor Hollens’s home at Arnault’s invitation. “I thought you’d already enjoyed some with the councilor.”
    “We shared a stronger beverage. But with a nice young lady like yourself, I’d have tea.”
    The image of the frock coat in the laundry cart and the unpleasantness that awaited at the next stop pierced her thoughts. “Actually, I should be going now. I’ve got a few more errands before the night’s over.”
    “You do more business in the Vineyard?” Arnault asked.
    “I do.”
    “And whereabouts, my lady?”
    “Just a few streets over, a bit north of here.” Jane shrugged.
    Before he could press her further, Lena reappeared, a nervous scowl on her face. “Mr Arnault, you know the councilor doesn’t like you smoking in here. I’ll just show Miss Lin out, and I’d be obliged if you’d put that thing out in the meantime.”
    Roman took one more long pull on his cigarette. “Better yet, I can accompany Miss Lin to the gate and finish it there. Apologies.”
    “Now, sir. What with recent events, I’ve got to lock the gate after her.”
    Roman’s back was already to her as he walked Jane to the door. “I’m sure I can figure it out.” Lena returned to the stairway while Roman led Jane to the garden, his palm barely resting on the small of her back. It was the kind of touch that Roman seemed to offer without much