Ambrose chewed a mouthful of eggs as he nodded.
“It’s just an extra room that he uses for his art,” Maxwell informed me. “He insists on keeping it locked at all times.”
“He gave me the spare key because he’s always losing things,” Ambrose added. “But only important things. He never loses anything useless.”
“He holds on to things for sentimental value.”
“More like ‘hoards,’ like a dragon, only he’s saddled with rubbish rather than treasures.”
I shrugged. “Just because they’re not valuable doesn’t mean he doesn’t treasure them.”
Ambrose pointed a fork at me. “Words like those are only spoken by people who don’t have to worry over money. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with your family or the estate you’ve inherited. I assume it’s significant, then?”
“Ambrose.” Flora’s icy voice cut across us. “We don’t speak on such matters. You know better than that.”
Chagrined, Ambrose ducked his head. “I was only trying to acquaint myself with our guest better, Mother. I know nothing about him.”
“It’s quite alright,” I assured the duchess. “I will say I’ve never been in want of money.”
“And your lifestyle has been nothing short of extravagant,” Helena spoke up to add, a small smile on her lips.
A servant stepped into the room at that moment, saving me from any further elaboration, to announce the final guests had arrived. Isabel waltzed in, wearing a sunny dress with delicate lacework, Violetta in her wake.
“Good morning,” Isabel said, striding purposefully up to the duchess and performing a perfect curtsy while Violetta mimicked her less successfully at her back. Isabel beamed, perfect teeth complementing her perfectly bright eyes. Perfect, perfect, perfect. It made me want to do something violent. I clutched my butter knife tightly, like a promise, its dull teeth priming my imagination as I stared at her perfectly pretty neck.
And just how was she so perky after such a trying evening? The ball had lasted half the night. I’d hardly been able to bear the sight of the circles under my eyes, clear evidence of the revelry. At least Maxwell hadn’t fared much better. He was already biting back yawns.
The duchess nodded graciously toward two nearby vacant seats. “Come, join us.”
Isabel glided to the table, eyes finding Ambrose’s plate. “I hope you haven’t spoiled your appetite. You surely haven’t forgotten about our picnic?”
Ambrose sat up taller. “Of course not. I’ve been looking forward to it all morning. I’ve plenty more room.”
Isabel nodded, satisfied, as she took a seat on the other side of Zachariah. As she exchanged pleasantries with Flora, Ambrose gestured to a servant and spoke to him in a low voice. “Have the kitchen assemble a basket. Just some finger sandwiches and grapes will do.”
The servant nodded his understanding and disappeared as Ambrose caught my eye, sending me a shrug.
“And here I thought you were perfect in every conceivable way,” I teased.
“Even dukes slip up from time to time,” he said with a wink.
“Now, if you’ll all excuse me,” Flora said, getting to her feet, “I’ve an appointment with Lady Luna I must be getting off to.” The whole table stood with her and she paused to appraise the room. “You’re all here because you have mastered a basic talent. Dancing is but the tip of what we expect in a future family member. We also expect kindness and generosity, as well as a certain respect for you at large. As such, you will find a token beside each of your plates. There are drop boxes with each of your names in the front hall. Everyone moving on to the next round will need to earn at least two tokens from their fellow competitors. And as each is engraved with your initials, we will know if you vote for yourself. You have three days to make your decisions.”
She let that sink in for a moment, and I reached out to touch a blue metal token beside my knife. Indeed, the initials “LC” were etched across the front, the family crest emblazoned upon the back. I glanced up at the other guests regarding their own tokens. This, of course, meant that at least half of the competition would be eliminated with this round, if not more. It was a clever tactic, pitting us against one another, reminding us that we were only here at the behest of the family. It also encouraged political alliances, another skill I was sure Flora was eager to see in action. Which families would sacrifice this opportunity to gain favor from another? Where would alliances form? I would need to earn the good graces of at least two competitors to move on.
In the silence of the room, Flora turned to Helena expectantly and they left the room together.
“Who’s Lady Luna?” I asked, resuming my seat as I twirled the token between two fingers.
“A medium,” Ambrose scowled. “My mother has been seeing her more and more lately. And parting with more coin in the process.”
“Lady Luna earns that coin,” Zachariah said. “Her readings are inspired. And the way she dresses … fabulous. It’s nice to see someone else in this town with some fashion sense.”
Isabel turned up her nose. “There’s something so vulgar about psychics. I’m shocked the duchess indulges in such spectacle.”
“I think Lady Luna is very nice,” Violetta piped up. “She has a kind word for everyone.”
“You think everyone is nice.”
