“Are you missing something, beloved?”
“My dignity,” he replied dryly.
“Nonsense,” called Eve from her plinth. “You’re doing splendidly. Far better than Puggy and I,” she added, petting her canine snake with fond exasperation. “He will keep trying to get away.”
We exchanged pleasantries until the bell rang again and we resumed our poses. There were several repeat visitors—I recognised a few voices and the odd flash of a distinctly coloured gown—but we also had latecomers, one pair in particular who seemed a little rushed. They paused just in my eyeline, and I was able to study them for a moment. The taller of the two ladies had an exuberant coiffure of heavy black curls, pinned high atop her head. She was slim with a broad-shouldered, athletic build. I could well imagine her stalking the countryside in acomfortable pair of trousers, field guide in hand as she studied botany or rocks. The other was shorter, more delicate of feature, and younger. She was also very pale, with the suggestion of frailty about her, and the yellow of her frock did her no favours. It washed what little colour she might have had out of her complexion. Her hair, some indeterminate shade between blonde and brown, was limp and wan, gathered in an enormous plait at the nape of her neck. The entire effect was of a flower, once blooming and now etiolated, robbed of sun and sustenance until only the shadow of vitality remained.
“I am sorry,” said the younger lady said to her companion. “If I had not lain down so long this afternoon, we would have been here on time to see all of the tableaux.”
“Never mind,” consoled her friend with a pat of the arm. “You had the headache and it could not be helped. I am only glad you felt well enough to come out tonight, Eliza. Now what do you think of this one?”
The pulse at the base of my throat quickened. Surely this was Eliza Elyot and her friend, Undine Trevelyan. Parthenope Fleet had alluded to Eliza’s poor health and broken nerves as well as Miss Trevelyan’s solicitous protection of her.
No sooner had I determined their identities than they moved away, hurriedly making their way down the row of tableaux and choosing their favourite. I waited in agony, cutting my eyes to Stoker’s to find he was giving me a significant look. He had heard them as well, then, and come to the same conclusion as I. It seemed an eternity until the bell rang and we were free from our perches. I leapt to my feet and rushed from the room, Stoker hard upon my heels. Together we headed directly for the refreshment room where the guests would be gathered to cast their votes. I expected something of a crowd, but the room was absolutelyheavingwith people, all drinking champagne and conversing loudly enough to rouse a slumbering saint.
“We will never find them in this crush,” I said in despair. I stood ontiptoe, trying to see above the throng, but in vain. It was Stoker who spotted them, standing by the set of double doors that gave onto the entry hall. I saw Hetty give a signal to one of the maids to fetch their wraps.
“They are leaving!” I cried.
Stoker took my arm and began to push through the crowd, but it was akin to swimming upstream against a strong current. “I feel rather like an amorous Canadian salmon,” I muttered darkly.
We had gained half the distance of the refreshment room when I stopped, gasping aloud. “Stoker,” I hissed. “Look.” I directed his attention to a gentleman standing some little distance away from the two women, watching them closely.
The fellow was oddly dressed, a heavy dark coat shrouding his figure. A black hat with a broad brim had been pulled low over his brow, obscuring his features. But it was his manner rather than his attire which caught my attention. Whilst the rest of the assembly were drinking and laughing, conversing loudly as they compared notes on the tableaux and hailed their acquaintances, this gentleman kept to the shadows of the room, his back against the windows as if he could not bear to leave himself without a means of escape. He was watchful as a cobra, his still gaze trained intently upon Eliza Elyot. His manner was curious, furtive even, and it occurred to me he might have some malign intentions towards Miss Elyot. I felt a sudden frisson at the young woman’s vulnerability, watched as she was unawares. She must have felt the weight of his scrutiny then, for she turned suddenly, and her eyes locked with his.
Her eyes flared in astonishment, her mouth gaping. She made no sound of distress, no movement towards him, but stood rooted to the ground as deeply as Daphne herself, clearly overcome.
The gentleman had likewise been motionless, but he recovered more quickly. Before Miss Elyot could stir a step, he turned andvanished, only the gently wafting portieres betraying that anyone had ever been there at all. Without discussion, Stoker and I gave chase, pushing our way through the crowded assembly until we emerged through the same window into the damp night air. The window gave onto the street, and the fellow had vaulted to the pavement some five feet below. Stoker did the same, landing lightly on his bare feet before slipping onto his posterior, swearing lavishly as he did so. I saw no reason to subject myself to the same injury, so I leant as far out the window as I dared, calling encouragement.
“You managed that most athletically, my love. But you needn’t get up too quickly,” I advised. “He has got away.”
I nodded to where a carriage was springing away from the kerb.
“Oh, in the name of bleeding Jesus—” Stoker began with a little modest blasphemy and continued on in the same vein as he picked himself up and dusted himself off. The sight of a half-naked man standing on the pavement startled more than one passing matron, and he hurried inside where I met him at the door.
“I am bloody lucky I wasn’t arrested,” he said coldly.
“But it was not in vain,” I told him. “I saw the crest on the side of the carriage as it drove away.”
His expression brightened. “Did you indeed? Who was the devil?”
“That I cannot say. The carriage was borrowed from its rightful owner,” I said, drawing him to where Undine Trevelyan and Eliza Elyot still stood. “But Lord Ambrose Despard has a great deal to answer for.”
Undine Trevelyan was still standing with an arm around a startlingly pale and sinking Eliza, speaking low and urgently to her, no doubt encouraging her to leave as we approached them. Before Undine could demand our business, I plucked a feather from the hat of the nearest lady and thrust it into the gaslit sconce. It flamed up, and I blew it out, wafting the smoke under Eliza’s nose.
“I haven’t a vinaigrette on me, but a burnt feather will do just as well,” I said kindly.
Undine clutched Eliza more tightly. “We do not require assistance,” she said, but even as she spoke, Eliza sagged. Without waiting for permission, Stoker swept the unfortunate young woman into his arms.
“How dare you—” Undine Trevelyan began.
“I am a former surgeon’s mate with Her Majesty’s Navy,” he replied firmly. “This lady wants medical attention. Now, you can either accompany us to a quiet room where I will render her aid, or you will get out of my way, but you will not prevent me from helping her.”
There was something overawing about him in that moment, commanding even, in spite of his loincloth—or perhaps because of it. Undine Trevelyan hesitated, and in that moment, the battle was won.
“There is a little anteroom just across the hall,” I said. “We can move her there away from all these prying eyes,” I added. Undine looked about and suddenly realised that although most of the crowd were excitedly discussing the event, one or two groups had begun to glance our way with obvious curiosity.
“She would not like to be the centre of attention,” Undine Trevelyan admitted. I guided our little band from the refreshment room to the anteroom. Hetty used it most often for storing the tools of housekeeping but it suited our purposes perfectly. Stoker, with infinite gentleness, deposited Eliza Elyot onto an upturned bucket before beginning a cursory examination. Her eyelids fluttered, and he peered into her eyes, assessing the state of her pupils as he held one forefinger to her slender wrist.