Once everyone had finished their desserts, Mrs. Abernathy rose. “For the final game of the night, I have planned a real treat. Please join me in the drawing room.”
Chairs had been set up in rows, facing a large sheet that had been hung from the ceiling at the end of the room and illuminated from behind by a lamp. A single chair sat by itself, several feet in front of the rest, also facing the sheet.
“I adore Shadow Buff,” Malvinia whispered.
“Have you played?” Caroline asked Walsh as he escorted them.
“Once or twice,” he replied.
As the guests all took their seats, Mrs. Abernathy laid a finger to her cheek and scanned the crowd. “Hm... Whom shall I pick to go first?”
“Me!” a few partygoers answered.
Mrs. Abernathy kept scanning until her gaze lit on Elise Childs, a young woman who was attending with her parents. “I choose you.”
“I couldn’t,” Elise said, turning the shade of an overripe peach.
“Of course, you can,” Mrs. Abernathy cajoled, motioning for her to come forward and sit in the lone chair. “There’s a special prize reserved for the winner...” she taunted with a rising pitch and a persuasive smile.
“Oh, all right.” Elise rose and took her place, adjusting the ruffles of her emerald dress as she sat. Most blondes would fade next to such a powerful color, but Elise had enough strawberry in her hair and green in her eyes to compete.
“Now,” Mrs. Abernathy went on, “for those who are unfamiliar, I’ll explain how Shadow Buff is played. The player must face forward at all times, neither looking left, nor right, nor back. One by one, I’ll send three people to walk between thelamp and the sheet, and the player must guess who they are, solely by the shape of their shadows. The first one to guess all three correctly wins the prize.”
Amid hushed whispers, their hostess chose Walsh and sent him out a doorway in the back of the room. Then she chose Mrs. Hartigan, a buxom older woman whose profile was unmatched and therefore unmistakable.
Mrs. Abernathy paused on her way to the rear of the room. “No peeking, Miss Childs,” she called. “And no hints from any of you,” she added, pointing at the audience before disappearing through the doorway and closing the door.
Malvinia scooted over into Walsh’s unoccupied seat, and whispered in Caroline’s ear, “Mrs. Abernathy must be planning to pass behind the sheet, herself. Rather clever, if you ask me.”
Caroline nodded and sat up straight, her gaze fixed on the glowing curtain.
Walsh’s tall, lean silhouette appeared first, and Elise’s head tilted in an angle of contemplation. His black form waved and tipped an imaginary hat then hopped up and down in a silly jig that had everyone laughing.
“Oh, I know!” Elise called out. “It’s Mrs. Abernathy’s nephew, Mr. Duffy!”
“Correct,” Walsh replied. He emerged from behind the sheet, grinning, and sketched a theatrical bow.
“You’re lucky to have the affections of such a kind, gregarious man,” Malvinia whispered in Caroline’s ear before sliding back to her chair.
Next came the plump, wobbling form of Mrs. Hartigan. She’d removed her shawl to alter her appearance, but there was still no mistaking her lumpy outline.
“Mrs. Hartigan!” Elise called out.
The woman’s frowning face peeked around the edge of the sheet. “How did you guess so quickly?”
Elise shrugged, and a few snickers came from the crowd.
Walsh escorted Mrs. Hartigan back to her seat then sidestepped past Caroline’s knees and took his place beside her. “That was fun,” he whispered.
“Who’s last?” Caroline whispered back.
“I don’t know.”
The last shadow appeared, but it wasn’t Walsh’s aunt. The outline was that of a young, fit male who walked with a limp.
Elise leaned forward and tilted her head this way and that. Long minutes passed, but she didn’t give an answer.
The young man extended his arms and made the shape of a bird with his hands. He moved them so that the bird’s wings appeared to be flapping, then he changed their position so that they formed the shape of a bunny with wiggling ears.
