I stood, grateful for the reprieve, and made my cautious courtesies. Lacey saw me as far as the door, and then stood watching after me anxiously as far as the landing. I tried to walk as if the walls and floors weren’t wavering. I paused at the stairs to give her a small wave, and then started up them. Three steps up and out of her sight, I stopped to lean on the wall and catch my breath. I lifted my hands to shield my eyes from the brilliant candlelight. Dizziness was washing over me in waves. When I opened my eyes, my vision was wreathed in rainbow fogs. I closed them tight and pressed my hands to them.
I heard a light step coming down the stairs toward me. It paused two steps above me. “Are you all right, sir?” someone asked uncertainly.
“A bit too much to drink,” I lied. Certainly the wine I had dumped over myself made me smell like a drunk. “I’ll be fine in a moment.”
“Let me help you up the stairs. A stumble here might be dangerous.” There was starched disapproval in the voice now. I opened my eyes and peered through my fingers. Blue skirts. Of the sensible fabric that all the servants wore. No doubt she’d had to deal with drunks before.
I shook my head, but she ignored that, just as I would have in her position. I felt a strong hand grip my upper arm firmly, while her other arm encircled my waist. “Let’s just get you up the stairs,” she encouraged me. I leaned on her, not wanting to, and stumbled up to the next landing.
“Thank you,” I muttered, thinking she would leave me now, but she kept her grip.