Death Wears a Mask (6 page)

From the corner of my eye, I saw a woman I thought might be she stepping into the foyer, so I made my way through the crowds to follow her. It turned out, however, that the woman wasn't Mrs. Barrington, but a woman of similar build exiting the party.

I stood still for a moment, reluctant to return at once to the heat of the ballroom. The foyer was mostly deserted, and the air was much cooler there.

It was then I spotted a gentleman in the orange and black striped mask of a tiger coming down the stairs. Lord Dunmore mentioned Mr. Foster had worn such a mask, and I assumed the gentlemen had finished their game of billiards.

“Venturing back into the fray, Mr. Foster?” I asked with a smile.

He turned to me, and I realized at once that I had made a mistake. The mask was the same, the striped face of a tiger, but the build was not quite right, and the aura of confident athleticism was entirely absent.

“I … I'm not Foster,” he said a bit haltingly. “I'm James Harker.”

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Harker,” I said. “It is I, Mrs. Ames.”

“Mrs. Ames.” There was something like relief in his voice as he pulled off his mask, revealing his red, perspiring face. “I'm awfully glad to meet someone I know. I find I don't care for all these masked faces at all.”

“I thought you must be Mr. Foster. I believe he's wearing a similar mask to yours.”

He frowned. “I haven't seen him,” he said, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief. “I've been in the library upstairs. I've mostly been trying to stay out of the way. I only came down because I've an appointment with someone. I'm not much of one for parties, but Aunt Serena said it would be rude of me not to come.”

“Do you happen to know where your aunt is?” I asked. “She's actually the one I've been looking for.”

“I'm not certain where she is now,” he said, “but it would be hard to miss her. She's dressed in a peacock sort of thing.”

I didn't recall seeing her, but the description was clear enough.

“She's wearing some new jewels as well, sapphires, I think. My uncle must have bought them for her. He's always buying her things, you know. He dotes on her. Even his mask is blue to match her.”

“Yes, she mentioned that he's very generous. Thank you, Mr. Harker. I'll just keep looking. If you happen across her, will you tell her I'm searching for her?”

“Certainly, though I don't expect our paths shall cross anytime soon. I expect to go back upstairs. It's much more private there.”

“I see.”

“And when my appointment's over, I think I shall leave, despite what Aunt Serena says. Dunmore won't notice anyway. He isn't interested in my being here. It's the ladies that he's interested in. If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Ames.”

“Certainly.” I watched him go back into the ballroom, a bit bemused by his artlessness. He was an unusual gentleman, to be sure.

Well, if Mr. Harker planned on keeping his appointment, I supposed I should keep mine as well. I would have to wade back into the throng and locate Mrs. Barrington.

I reentered the ballroom and edged along the wall, politely declining two offers to dance as I went, attempting to spot Mrs. Barrington in the crowd. As the hour had grown later, the atmosphere of the party had begun to shift. The music, it seemed to me, had become faster, and there was a slightly more reckless air to the revelers than there had been at the start of the evening. I daresay that, not being even midnight, things were only beginning to warm up.

In the end, it was Mrs. Barrington who found me.

“Mrs. Ames,” she hissed. “Mrs. Ames! Over here!”

I turned and saw her standing near the French doors that led out onto the terrace. She had cracked one of them open to the cool night breeze and was fanning herself with a peacock-plume fan.

I made my way to her, admiring her gown of emerald and sapphire silk. There were elaborate inlays in the skirt that fluttered in the air. Somehow the flamboyant peacock attire suited her.

“Good evening, Mrs. Barrington. Your dress is lovely.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Ames,” she said without further pleasantries, clutching my arm and leaning in conspiratorially. “I've been wondering where you were. Our plan has been set into action.”

I had been half hoping she had forgotten, but it was very apparent that she had not. “Yes, I've been looking for you, but it's so very crowded.”

“Look at this.” A brilliant sapphire bracelet appeared suddenly in her outstretched hand, like some sort of conjuror's trick.

“It's lovely.”

“It's paste!” she cried delightedly. “Mr. Barrington had it made for me. Isn't it clever? It's almost prettier than the real ones! I'm not sure I could tell the difference. I'm quite certain the thief shall be tempted to take it. I've been flashing it about all evening. I'm sure each of the suspects has seen it by now. And I've made a show of telling the others I plan to rest in the upstairs library for a while and that my bracelets are too tight and I must take them off. I saw those silly Echols girls not twenty minutes ago, and I could see perfectly well that they were ogling my jewelry. I also mentioned it to Mrs. Douglas-Hughes and Mrs. Garmond, in passing.”

I wondered if her suspects had found this all to be as obvious as I did.

“Accompany me to the library, dear, and we shall lay the trap. Lloyd and the other gentlemen have gone upstairs to play cards or some such nonsense, so it shall be easy enough to find them and apprise them of my location.”

I sighed inwardly, thinking of the futility of it all. “All right, Mrs. Barrington.”

We made our way across the crowded ballroom and back into the foyer, where it appeared that more guests were arriving. We nodded politely at the latest arrivals and moved past them toward the stairs. A set of wide gold and crimson carpeted steps led upward, facing the front door from across the expanse of marble flooring, and then split off into two curving staircases that wound upward, parallel to the first set, before meeting on the first-floor landing. There was a railed gallery that overlooked the stairs and foyer, breaking up a long hallway that ran from one side of the house to the other.

We took the stairs together, skirting a group of two men and two women who were sitting at the landing, engaged in some sort of earnest conversation.

On the landing, we took the set of stairs to the right. It seemed Mrs. Barrington was familiar with the layout of the house, for she led me down a hallway straight ahead to the first door on the left, which was the library. It was a lovely room with very good furniture and shelf upon shelf of leather-bound books. A fire had been lit in the fireplace and crackled warmly. It reminded me a bit of the library at Thornecrest and was the sort of room in which I could have spent many comfortable hours.

She sank into a chair away from the fire and let out a great sigh. “It's so warm downstairs,” she said, “all those bodies packed so closely together. I'm not as young as I once was.” She laughed boisterously as she flipped open her fan of peacock feathers and began to wave it rapidly in front of her face. “Oh, bother,” she cried suddenly. “This bracelet is forever getting caught on my dress.” She pried loose the fabric that was caught at her wrist and took off the bracelet, setting it on the table beside her. “I think I shall leave it just here for the thief to find. In a few moments, I'll move to sit behind that screen,” she said, indicating an impressive piece of Oriental design. “I'll be ready to pounce upon the bandit when he comes. Or perhaps I'll just sit here and pretend to sleep, then spring upon the culprit as he reaches out to take it.”

“What if nothing happens?” I asked, secretly hoping that neither of her alarming suggestions would prove necessary. “It may be a while before anyone will screw up the courage to try.”

“I'll wait,” she said. “It feels lovely to get off my feet. These shoes are much too tight. Just come back in a while. Perhaps the culprit will have showed himself by then. If you'll just try to find the gentlemen and casually mention my jewels…”

“I think Lord Dunmore said something about a game of billiards.”

“The billiards room is downstairs, my dear, but they aren't there. You recall I said they've come upstairs to play cards. I found the billiards room earlier, and they'd all gone. I'm sure you shall find them in no time, however.”

She laid her head back in the chair and closed her eyes, and I realized that I had been dismissed to carry out my errand.

I left her reclining in the chair and went again into the long, wood-paneled hallway.

I stopped for a moment and glanced around. The hallway on this side of the stairwell extended far into the shadows, with several doors along either side. I had no intention of barging into rooms until I located the one in which the gentlemen were playing cards. No doubt if I returned downstairs and asked, someone would be able to direct me to the correct room.

A grandfather clock stood against the wall near the door to the library, and I noted the time. It was nearly half past eleven. I would fulfill my duty and then perhaps wait an hour more. After that, I would go home. I highly doubted anything eventful would occur tonight. In retrospect, the entire plan seemed rather ridiculous.

The group still sat on the landing when I reached the stairwell, and I heard their excited voices as I approached.

“Isn't that Helene Renault that's just come in, the film star? Isn't she beautiful? I've seen all her pictures!”

“Look at her jewels! They're magnificent.”

Curiosity got the best of me, and I walked toward the railing, hoping to catch a glance of the fabled actress.

“Who is the gentleman with her?” the other girl asked in a low voice. “Even with the mask, he's ever so handsome.”

I had reached the railing by then and had a good view of the foyer below.

The girl was right. The thin black mask did little to hide his good looks … or his identity.

It was Milo.

 

6

I FELT MYSELF
flush cold and then hot as I stepped back from the railing to avoid being seen, my head reeling. Milo had accompanied Helene Renault to Lord Dunmore's masquerade. So this was what had become of the horse he was desperate to buy.

I walked back up the short flight of stairs to the shadowed hallway. Standing in the semidarkness, I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, willing myself to remain calm. It would do me no good to fly into a fury; it never had.

I could hear the increased murmur of voices below, and I knew the cinema star's entrance had caused a stir. No doubt she was basking in the glow of the sensation her late arrival had caused, even as she clung to my husband's arm. They made a stunning pair, I would grant them that. Milo, tall and dark, was the perfect complement to Helene Renault's sleek blond beauty.

I suddenly felt very tired.

Too many emotions hit me all at once, and I knew only that I wanted to go home. I decided to change my strategy. Mrs. Barrington had said the gentlemen were playing cards somewhere on this floor, and I intended to locate them without going downstairs for directions. I would find Lord Dunmore, wish him a good evening, and be on my way. There were so many people in the ballroom, I could leave without ever encountering Milo.

I walked down the long hall, my skirts rustling around me in the relative silence. A door suddenly opened, and Felicity Echols emerged from it, closing it quickly behind her. She turned and nearly collided with me, barely stifling a gasp.

“Oh, Mrs. Ames!” she said, a bright flush creeping up her cheeks. “I … I was just lying down for a moment. It was awfully hot in that ballroom.”

“Yes, just what Mrs. Barrington was saying earlier,” I replied. “So many people.”

She nodded, almost too vigorously, and I felt she seemed more nervous than the situation warranted. “Indeed. I felt I must lie down for a moment,” she said again.

“Mrs. Barrington is resting in the library,” I noted, feeling, in addition to the need to move the conversation along, that I might as well play my part as well as I could before exiting the party. “I was looking for Lord Dunmore. Have you seen him?”

If possible, her flush brightened. “No, I don't … that is, not since earlier this evening. I … I think he may have gone downstairs.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Oh,” she said suddenly, putting a hand to her face. “I've forgotten my mask. If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Ames…” She reentered the room, shutting the door behind her.

I didn't believe that Lord Dunmore was downstairs. In fact, I suspected there was a good possibility that he recently had been keeping Miss Echols company in the room from which she had just emerged. However, it really was none of my business. It seemed that I had enough illicit liaisons to worry about in my own household.

I walked farther along the long hallway, listening as I went. At last, I seemed to hear voices behind a door. I knocked and was rewarded by a call to enter.

I opened the door and found Lord Dunmore, Mr. Douglas-Hughes, Mr. Foster, and Mr. Barrington sitting around a table, cards in hand, their masks discarded. The empty-eyed masks looked up at me from black and silver, glittering peacock-blue, gold, and tiger-striped faces.

The gentlemen had turned to look at me as I opened the door and then began to rise from their seats as I came into the room.

“Please, gentlemen, don't get up,” I said. “I didn't mean to intrude.”

“Not at all,” Lord Dunmore said, coming to usher me into the room. “We're delighted. We could use a respite from the game. Foster is entirely too good at everything he sets his hand to. Doesn't seem fair he should be a champion at tennis and a perfect billiards prodigy, but now he's trouncing us at cards as well. It's uncanny.” He smiled as he said it, but it didn't seem quite sincere. I thought Lord Dunmore seemed a man who wouldn't much like to lose.