Jake crossed Lady Olivia’s threshold and succumbed to the spell she’d cast.
With each step forward, the known world transmogrified into one strange and mysterious, opaque and enchanting. Spellbound partygoers mingled around him and Mina in hushed, almost reverent tones as their vision adjusted to dim, indigo light.
Beside him, Mina went still, observing the room quietly, but without her usual outward restraint. A rapt smile lit across her face, and the corners of her eyes crinkled in what could only be described as delight. She, too, was charmed. “Father, look up.”
He followed the direction of her gaze toward the twenty-foot ceiling. Above their heads, hundreds of tiny candles individually set within faceted glass globes glittered like a twinkling night sky against a ceiling dark as the deep blue night. “Do you recognize the constellations, Father?”
He hadn’t seen her this enthralled by anything since they’d left Singapore. She resembled the child she still was, if only in years. His heart threatened to lift out of his chest. He narrowed his eyes to inspect the starry ceiling more closely. Scattered throughout the tiny glass globes shone larger ones laid out in the pattern of the constellations. “Which ones am I seeing?”
“There is Orion,” she whispered, pointing. “You can tell by the three larger stars of his belt.” Eyes shining brighter than the stars above, she angled her arm to the left. “And there are Orion’s dogs, Canis Major and Canus Minor. Do the animals he hunted continue into the next room?”
As Jake watched Mina surrender to the charm of the soirée, relief washed over him at having brought her, his few misgivings somewhat mollified, if not entirely erased. After all, the thief remained at large. The man could be in this very room, or the next, and it was vital that he cut off the possibility that the man have any interaction with Mina. He hadn’t formed a solid idea about the man’s intentions, except thieves tended not to be upstanding citizens, and he wouldn’t give the man the opportunity to begin a whisper campaign about her past, if that was his intent.
And, then, there was his wobbly relationship with Lady Olivia. A specific quality charged between them that wouldn’t bear up beneath his daughter’s discerning eye.
He resisted the pull of his mind toward yesterday, the empty bedroom, and the almost kiss. In that mad instant, he’d summoned his will and resisted his body’s carnal response. That was the important part. He also understood he wouldn’t be as successful a second time.
“Oh, Father, look over there.”
He followed the tug of Mina’s arm as she guided him to a scene staged in a far corner of the room. It resembled a nativity one might see around Christmas. A pair of white lambs lay nestled comfortably within a bed of hay, curled into each other and fast asleep. As they drew closer, it became apparent that the painting hanging above the lambs was the focal point.
A wolf, not the sort who hunted in a pack and grew fat from its bounty, but rather one who had left his pack long ago, stared malevolently into Jake’s eyes. So lifelike was the painting, he half expected the predator to jump off the canvas and come straight for his throat. He glanced at Mina. “What do you think?”
“Unnerving,” she said, subdued and thoughtful. “I prefer the stars.”
“Shall we pursue them into the next room?”
They’d taken no more than three steps when their progress was cut short by a blond bundle of curls and energy. Lady Olivia’s daughter certainly knew how to make an entrance.
“You must be Miss Radclyffe,” the girl said, her words tripping over themselves in a breathless rush.
Mina nodded. “And you are Miss Bretagne?”
The girl’s lips pulled to the side in a crooked smile. “Egad, finally, we meet. I’ve heard all about you.”
Jake detected a blush brightening Mina’s cheeks and started to get a word in, but he decided that it would be nigh on impossible with the ebullient Miss Bretagne. A personality trait she didn’t in the least share with her cool and collected mother.
“But no one mentioned that you might be the most beautiful girl in all of London.” Miss Bretagne turned toward Jake. “If you do not mind, my lord,” she intoned in a studied, polite voice, unlike the one from moments ago, “I would like to rescue Miss Radclyffe from this boring old party.”
He caught Mina’s eye. “With Miss Radclyffe’s consent, of course.”
“I would be delighted by the pleasure of your company, Miss Bretagne,” Mina said. “Will you lead me through the rest of the rooms? I should like to see your night sky in its entirety.”
“Oh, goody!” Miss Bretagne exclaimed as she slid her arm through Mina’s to better lead her through the crowd. “Oh, and Lord St. Alban?” she called over her shoulder. “My mother says to mingle as you please. It’s an informal affair.”
They turned away, and Jake caught one last snippet of their conversation. “And, Miss Radclyffe, you can drop theMiss Bretagnebit. It’s too ladylike, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be one of those. In fact, technically I’m a bastard. You can call me Lucy.”
“And I’m Mina.”
Lucy grabbed Mina’s hand, and the two girls melted into the crowd, leaving Jake alone in the receiving room. Miss Bretagne, abastard? He supposed, in the strictest sense, it was true. Still, none in this room, in all of Society, would dare utter that particular truth, not beneath the Duke of Arundel’s own roof.
A servant’s tray caught Jake on the elbow. This was quite the crush. Not on the scale of the Dowager’s, but the room was full enough that one must take care where one stepped. This gathering had a strangely selective feel to it, which made little sense considering the guests appeared to be a mixture of the high and the low.
A few faces struck Jake as familiar in the vague way of social acquaintanceships formed in thirty second introductions at a Salon or soirée. Others bore aspects of the bohemian sort not received in polite Society. Their hues shone just a little brighter; their laughter rang out just a little bolder; and their accents ranged just a little broader. In total, many of the assembled were persons entirely vulgar to the refined eyes of theton.
Yet in her wing of the Duke’s mansion, Lady Olivia’s apartments offered these two disparate strata of society the freedom to enjoy one another’s company. On the street tomorrow, it would be a different story. But, tonight, these rooms provided a sanctuary where the two could socialize without constraint.
And it was Lady Olivia who had created this space where art could bridge the gap. She was more fascinating than she had a right to be. It was no wonder she excited gossip.
