INTRODUCTIONS
I arrived in the drawing room at 6 p.m. sharp for pre-dinner drinks. Mr. Stroker announced me, and I greeted Mrs. Cordelia Cavendish and her two daughters, Martha and Alice, realizing then that they were non-identical twins, but there was no sign of Benjamin. I took a glass of sherry and I stood aside as other guests entered the room, and were introduced by Stroker.
“Mr. Lawrence Blake of the Americas,” arrived without his blue glass spectacles. He was wearing a cut of suit that was from at least two seasons ago. Maybe I was being pernickety, but there were lots of little clues that Blake’s financial situation was not at all healthy. I supposed Benjamin could only give so much!
“Lord and Lady Dancer of Northumberland,” were introduced next. Considering his profession and extra-curricular activities, I hadn’t expected Jack Dancer to be married, but clearly he was another hypocrite leading a double life. Then Stroker introduced a man I did not recognize.
“His Honour Judge Sir Horatio Morehead, and Lady Sarah Morehead.” Ah, it was good to put a name and face to the man who had seen fit to place Euan in an asylum on Blake’s command. The last thing our great country needed was another corrupt judge! I would be content if his sudden retirement was an outcome when Charles, Sebastian, and I were done!
“Sir Percival Faulkner and Lady Eliza Faulkner,” were announced next. I knew of Sir Percy Faulkner. He was Solicitor General for the Crown—a senior legal advisor to Queen Victoria. I was slightly terrified when I realized just how influential the men in the cabal were. Then the fresh-faced dandy Lord Arthur Spencer sauntered into the room appearing a little drunk already. Like Ashe and I, Spencer had not brought a female partner.
I stood by the mantle conversing with Ashe and Spencer until the final guests were announced. The Cavendish girls let out gasps as Rajkumari Nissa Rai entered on the arm of Baron Leopold Von Liebenstein with Mr. Fairfax as their ever-present shadow. Leo loved to be the center of attention and so of course he’d arranged to make a grand entrance. In a forest green silk suit he was prettier and more elegant by far than any of the other men in attendance. Nissa was radiant in the traditional Indian finery that she wore as a costume for her disguise. As a couple they were mesmerizing and so all eyes were on them.
“Now you are all here, please accept my apologies for not greeting you all on arrival. I had the most devilish headache,” Cordelia Cavendish said to the room. “And now poor Charles has stomach flu from a bad oyster. The doctor recommended that he remains in bed so our dear friend Mr. Lawrence Blake will head the table tonight.”
“Thank you dear Cordelia, it will be my honour,” Blake said with smarmy confidence. Stroker then notified us that dinner was ready to be served. We filed out of the drawing room, and were led down the frigid hallway toward the dining room. The butler made us pause in the hall like school children. Our hostess then organized which gentleman would escort each lady. I was pared with Lady Eliza Faulkner, the elderly wife of the crown lawyer. I did not take her hand. She appeared quite relieved. We entered the dining room and I was glad that there was a vast fireplace with a roaring furnace of a fire burning as April nights still brought a chill to my aging bones. The walls of the dining room were powder blue and displayed relics of the Forsyth family’s military past. Swords and shields were mounted, and at the far wall a huge tattered flag was displayed with what I now understood to be the Forsyth coat of arms. It matched that of the triumphant painting that hung over the main staircase. I was interested in the historic display and hoped it would be a safe topic of conversation during the meal. The long mahogany table was dressed with crystal candle holders and towered arrangements of spring flowers. I found our place name cards and I seated Lady Faulkner and then took my own seat which I was relieved was in my preferred place at the end of the row. Lawrence Blake looked positively buoyant heading a table of such esteemed members of the British aristocracy, and his over-confidence repulsed me.
Dinner was rather enjoyable and thankfully only four courses—Mulligatawny soup, baked salmon, and then roasted venison served with vegetables. For desert, in honour of the visiting German Baron, the cook had created a delicious Black Forrest gateaux topped with cherries soaked in kirsch liqueur.
Even though I attempted to converse, Lady Faulkner did not speak one word to me during the meal, but instead tutted occasionally and focused on eating tiny bites of food, very slowly. And so, after a few glasses of claret, I was in a rather buoyant mood too and decided to entertain myself. Fairfax and I began a covert flirtation. Many times I sent my gaze across the dining table to Mr. Fairfax and even though his outward appearance was that of a grey bearded elderly man with unkempt hair and half moon spectacles, his youthful eyes could not lie and Sebastian’s blazing glances inflamed me as he spooned the creamy desert into his mouth. We had not lain together for several days and I was as hungry as ever for my lover. Each night without him made me restless, and as I knew Sebastian garnered quite the rush from creeping around at night I anticipated a midnight caller!
With his partner in crime laid up, Blake gave a speech thanking the Cavendish family for their hospitality. Generally, it didn’t take much to get the American bleating on about spiritualism and theosophy; but he did not seek to preach as I’d expected. I thanked God for small mercies!
After dinner we followed the Cavendish ladies to the music salon so they could entertain us with their considerable talents. Blake quietly removed himself from our party and did not return. Usually I would avoid such a garish display by daughters of the nobility. I’d sat through too many such recital evenings in my long life and tired of girls with no discernible talent inflicting their cat-like wails upon my ears while their parents spoke proudly about their daughter’s marriageable qualities. In this case I was glad that my morose attitude was proved wrong. The Cavendish ladies were blessed with heavenly voices, and gave delightful performances. Martha was on piano and song, and her sister Alice joined in harmony. After several songs and a call for requests I was not surprised to see Leo leap up from his chair and encourage Martha to play a quadrille. He and Nissa gave an elegant peacock display, Arthur Spencer partnered with Alice Cavendish, and Cordelia Cavendish danced with Charles.
I stood behind a couch clapping along as the couples twirled. Mr. Fairfax sidled up and I felt a warm, welcome hand on my backside. I did not flinch nor did I look his way, but enjoyed this illicit touch as his hand roamed, a finger tracing the crack of my arse, then moving lower to tickle my bawsack. “Ohh!” I inhaled sharply and heat rose to scald my face. I was grateful for the music and the couch as a way of hiding my arousal and became quite dizzied with lust. A year ago, I would have fled the room in horror. Oh, how my life had changed in such marvellous ways!
On retiring for the night, I came upon something curious. I found my supposedly locked bedroom door was now open, and on entering the room my belongings had been ransacked without an effort to disguise the rushed search. I was appalled by the intrusion, but after a minute of consideration I decided it was not in my best interest to raise the alarm. His absence during the evening entertainment meant I knew exactly who had fingered through my trunk. Lawrence Blake was increasingly desperate to get his hands on the Staff of Asklepios, and I believed that if he did, he may abscond with it before the ritual—and his undoing. I was relieved I’d had the forethought to find a suitable hiding place for it, therefore ensuring Blake would be forced to remain at Seabourn and go through with the ritual that would lead to his new life, behind bars!
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