“Her ladyship said as how there was gonna be all sorts of entertainment, including someone will be tellin’ fortunes, everyone wearin’ costumes and masks. Her ladyship is gonna be dressed as some dead queen!”
As I said, I suspected that Brodie would rather be shot on the spot.
“Do come along,” I told him.
At the landing below, Mr. Cavendish had joined in the celebration on the street with a pumpkin carved with a wicked expression and a scarf tied about his head. Fancy that, I thought. He looked very much like a pirate!
For his part, Rupert the hound had taken himself off into the alcove and lay there with his head on his paws. It appeared that he was much of the same opinion as Brodie regarding the festivities.
Mr. Cavendish shook his head as he waved down a coach. “The hound has been like that all afternoon. He doesn’t like the goblins and ghosts. But I assured ’im there would be plenty of bounty on the street come mornin’.” He then let out a sound one might expect of a pirate.
“Aaargh!”
Lily was ecstatic as we climbed aboard the coach for the ride to the Grosvenor, with our driver who was very much in the spirit of things.
He had wrapped a cloak about his head and shoulders leaving just enough room to peer out the front in order to guide the team and made it seem as if he had no head.
It was on the seat beside him! Or at least a very fine replica of one.
The Grosvenor Hotel was decorated for the occasion, with black streamers and thin wisps of cloth at the entrance as if entering a haunted house covered in cobwebs. Carved pumpkins, a scarecrow, and a mechanical figure dressed as some sort of character out of a Gothic novel also all in black swept its hat from a skeletal head and bowed. Lily giggled.
The ballroom was decorated as well with fake spider webs at the entrance, fires that burned brightly in two fireplaces, and an assortment of staff all in costume as they put the finishing touches to the room. And somewhere in there, a gypsy— in the form of my friend, Templeton —would be reading fortunes for those who dared.
Given her profession as an actress and the variety of costumes she wore for her stage performances I could only imagine how she might present herself for the evening.
Munro appeared in the lobby. It seemed that he had been placed in charge of seeing that my aunt’s guests were shown to their rooms. His expression, usually a non-expression as befit his position as manager of my aunt’s estates and other things, matched Brodie’s.
“The place is perfect for pinching valuables from the guests, everyone wearin’ masks and costumes.”
“Aye,” Brodie agreed. “Best keep a watchful eye. I’ll speak with the hotel staff. Perhaps Sir Avery can be prevailed upon to assist.” And he was off.
Munro escorted us to our rooms, on the same floor with my aunt and sister who had arrived earlier. My aunt was in the ballroom overseeing the last of the details for that evening.
“Miss Lenore is with her. The hotel staff will be fortunate to survive,” he announced.
“Miss Templeton arrived earlier,” he added, quite formal considering their relationship. “The Finch woman is with her if ye have need of her particular expertise.”
Once situated in our rooms I sent a note to Templeton’s suite. I supposed if I was to pull off the costume Lily had insisted that I wear, I would need Mrs. Finch’s assistance.
She was my friend’s dresser and make-up person and had accompanied her around the world for her stage performances. She had also assisted me with a disguise on a previous occasion. She was most talented.
We ate early supper in our room. Linnie joined us. Then it was time to put on our costumes and join the festivities in the hotel ballroom.
“I never did anythin’ like this before,” Lily excitedly told me.
“You have never done anything like this…” Linnie corrected her.
“That’s what I said.”
I smothered a smile behind my dinner napkin.
Linnie was already in full costume as Mrs. Finch arrived. She had just finished with Templeton’s make-up and had sent her off to read fortunes as the guests had already begun to arrive.
“Now,” the small woman who was no bigger than a flea said, pushing her glasses back up onto her nose.
“What is to be done with you, Miss Forsythe?”
Lily squirmed and fidgeted, constantly going to the window that faced out onto the street below as guests arrived, and describing how they were dressed.
