It was not the sort of bark when a stranger approached. The hound obviously knew the person, who wore a bright purple jacket with a purple hat over hair tucked under that had once been dark auburn but was now streaked with white.
That striking blue gaze looked back at me through the glass in the door somewhat myopically, through thick-rimmed goggles that gave my great aunt the appearance of a large bug. An elegantly dressed one, but a bug nonetheless.
“Good afternoon, dear,” she greeted me, stretching up on the toes of her boots to kiss my cheek.
“The lift is quite marvelous, no need to climb all those stairs. Mr. Cavendish was good enough to accompany me, so there was no mishap. And Rupert as well.”
She sailed past and proceeded to unwind the netting that draped her hat and protected that magnificent silver-and-red hair.
“Lady Spencer has spoken of a salon that grooms dogs! I can acquire the name for you. Dear Rupert could use a bath.”
Dear Rupert had entered the office with her and now sat at her feet, tail thumping on the floor. He was quite fond of her and had spent considerable time in the past at Sussex Square, particularly during the recent recovery from an injury.
He looked up at her with soulful dark eyes, and she indulged him with apetit fourcake. In addition to my housekeeper’s sponge cake and biscuits I indulged him with, it was a wonder he was not as big as a horse.
Aunt Antonia had also removed her goggles and placed them beside her hat on Brodie’s desk. She had obviously driven her motor carriage from Sussex Square. There were mud splatters on her right cheek. I provided a handkerchief.
“Thank you, dear. I did leave without one.”
Which, of course, begged the question, what was she doing here?
“A last-minute alteration. The gown simply would not do, and Madame had worked on it for weeks.”
Two questions, I realized, that required some information.
“Yes, of course,” she replied. “I ordered the gown months ago with the final fitting just the week past, but it needed to be taken in once I tried it on, you see. I picked it up from Madame, just this morning.”
Not exactly.
I adored my great aunt. She had taken my sister and me in after the deaths of both our parents. She had provided us with an education, travel that first whetted my appetite for adventures, and had sponsored Linnie when she came out a few years before—a dreadful mistake on my sister’s part, as her husband turnedout to be not only unfaithful, but might have gotten her killed as well.
Antonia Montgomery, now eighty-seven years old, had never wed or had a family of her own. We became her family.
There were those who thought her quite eccentric, driving about in her motor carriage, experimenting now with her folding camera, or indulging herself with Old Lodge Whisky, a very successful and lucrative enterprise when she should have been sipping port.
And of course, there were her plans for her final send-off, whenever that might occur, by way of a Viking longboat she’d had built specifically for the purpose—off in a blaze of glory.
“And now, with the event at St. James's Palace very near... You do have your gown?”
I had to admit that I had neither a gown, after the fire at the townhouse had taken everything, nor an invitation. I was presently reduced to wearing clothes that were at the office at the time, with a few purchases made since. Nor was I aware of the ‘event,’ since I had not received an invitation.
“Oh, dear. Your invitation was sent with mine from the Lord Chamberlain, after word of the fire at the townhouse.
“What event?”
“The reception for the German legation at St. James's Palace, in two days. It will be quite an affair, with members of the Royal family in attendance, with their connection to the German royal family.
“Lenore and James will be attending,” Aunt Antonia continued. “She informed me that her whole existence seems to be nappies and preventing catastrophes with Charlotte fully mobile—the child does remind me of you. And then, of course, with the next one on the way. She needs to get out and about one more time before the babe’s arrival.
“She has already complained that she feels as large as an elephant. It is a pity that most of your clothes were lost in the fire,” she continued. “You can hardly attend in the clothes you are wearing now.”
I momentarily recovered from my shock at the news that a reception was to be held the following evening at St. James's Palace. Was it possible that was what the date 18 April meant? Was something to happen during the reception?
And what was it Aunt Antonia was saying about the clothes I was wearing?
“You can hardly wear a walking skirt and shirtwaist to the reception. It is formal attire, dear. With your sister’s present condition, Madame created a very flattering, elegant gown for her.
“Most certainly Lenore would be thrilled for you to wear one of her other gowns. You are about the same size. I will contact her as soon as I return to Sussex Square. Of course, there is the question of what Brodie will wear. Don’t worry,” she went on. “I shall mention it to James. He will undoubtedly be able to come up with something. This is so exciting!”
