Linden was looking at the drink cart entertaining the notion of making himself some sort of celebratory nightcap when he heard the sound of something at the door. The urge to imbibe fled from him quickly, replaced with a pang of nervous curiosity and mild irritation. He strode across the room quickly and pulled the door open, peering into the slice of light that cut from the parlor into the hall.
At first he hardly noticed her; his own shadow obscuring her mostly from view. The china cup, though, caught his eye and he realized after a moment of piecing together her generally familiar build and face that it was Viola's ladies maid. He frowned, considering his options.
"Good evening," he said mildly. "Miss... Mercier? Correct?"