"Thomas, the glasses on the east table need collecting," I told him as he passed me in the corridor. "Don't leave them sitting. It looks untidy."
"Yes, Mrs. Harrow."
He moved off. I watched him go with the mild satisfaction of a woman who had learned that a well-run house required constant small corrections. People left to themselves became careless. That was simply the nature of people.
I collected my own tray from the side table, slid three empty glasses onto it, and moved toward the reception room. The gathering had wound down fully now, the last of the guests gone, the villa settling into its after-event quiet. This was the part of my job I found most straightforward. The during was management. The after was just restoration.
I had been restoring this house for fifteen years.
I kn
