Death Wears a Mask

by Ashley Weaver

  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.

  “Mere luck,” Mr. Foster said dismissively.

  “Well, I am sorry for the interruption.” I turned to Lord Dunmore. His hand, which had lingered on my back, fell away. “I’ve only come to wish you good evening. I’m afraid it’s time for me to leave.”

  “Nonsense,” he said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “It’s not even midnight, and you promised me the dance after the unmasking.”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to appear rude, but neither did I want to stay any longer than was absolutely necessary.

  “We’re nearly finished with this hand. Wait at least until midnight.” There was something in his coaxing command that I could not refuse.

  “Very well,” I assented. After all, why should I be forced to flee the party just because my husband had decided to arrive with another woman? Two could play that game. “I shall save my last dance of the evening for you, Lord Dunmore.”

  “Excellent.” He reached out and squeezed my arm. “I knew you wouldn’t want to disappoint me, Mrs. Ames.”

  I was unsure how to respond to this, so I said nothing.

  As the gentlemen resumed their game, I remembered suddenly that I had told Mrs. Barrington I would mention her location to the possible thief in our midst. “I’ve just come from speaking with your wife, Mr. Barrington. She’s resting in the library because she found it crowded and hot downstairs. I believe she may even have fallen asleep.”

  “Serena’s always getting overheated,” he murmured, his eyes on his cards.

  “She showed me her lovely sapphire bracelet, but she said it was hurting her wrists and needed to take it off. Such a lovely piece.”

  “Hmm,” her husband replied, laying down a card. Though he knew about Mrs. Barrington’s ploy, he seemed singularly disinterested in taking part. I couldn’t say I blamed him.

  “I’ll just go back and check on her,” I said, by way of excusing myself, having done all I could to try to induce the men to thievery. They all seemed much too engrossed in their game to think of Mrs. Barrington’s jewelry.

  “I’ll meet you downstairs in a few moments for the unmasking?” Lord Dunmore asked.

  “Very well.”

  I exited the room and made my way down the hallway, half wishing I had insisted upon leaving. I really was rather tired, and I wanted to be home and out of this heavy dress. I supposed it wouldn’t hurt me to dance one dance with Lord Dunmore, however. I was just as capable of making a spectacle of myself as Milo was, and I thought I just might enjoy it. In preparation, I located a powder room and spent a few moments refreshing my makeup before again venturing into the hall.

  “Hello, Mrs. Ames.” I started and looked up. I had been so lost in thought that I had not heard Mrs. Douglas-Hughes approaching.

  “Hello, Mrs. Douglas-Hughes,” I replied, as cheerily as I could manage.

  “Call me Mamie, won’t you? Douglas-Hughes is such a mouthful.”

  I smiled. “Certainly, if you will call me Amory.”

  “I’d like that. I’m just looking for Sandy. It’s nearly midnight, and he shall dance with me if I have to drag him down the stairs. I tried the billiards room, but someone told me they’d come upstairs for cards. The house is massive, isn’t it?” She looked at the hallway ahead and then over her shoulder at where the hallway extended beyond the gallery toward the other side of the house. I don’t have any idea where to look.”

  “It’s the room at the end of the hall.” I directed her to the doorway from which I had recently emerged. “I understand Mr. Foster is trouncing them soundly.”

  She paused, and her expression was hesitant, as though there was more she wanted to say. I thought I might know what it was.

  “I’ve seen my husband has arrived,” I said, to relieve her of the burden. I was glad my voice betrayed nothing of my true feelings.

  “Yes,” she answered carefully. “He came in a few moments ago.”

  “He has the charming habit of popping up places unannounced at the most inconvenient times.”

  “You weren’t expecting him, then.” Or her. Those last two words were implied.

  “No. I wasn’t.”

  “I suppose that’s very … awkward.”

  “I’ve grown somewhat accustomed to it,” I replied tonelessly.

  “I’m not trying to pry,” she said. “I just thought that maybe you would like someone to talk to.” She laughed self-consciously. “I suppose it’s very American of me, but I just wanted to be sure you were … all right.”

  I smiled again, more naturally this time, charmed by her thoughtfulness. “Thank you, Mamie. I appreciate that. I’m quite all right.”

  She nodded, sensing that I had no wish to continue along this topic at present.

  “I’ll just go get Sandy then. I’ll see you later, Amory?”

  “Yes.”

  She continued on down the hall, and I headed toward the library. With any luck, Mrs. Barrington would still be there resting comfortably. I hoped she was not put out with me for abandoning her little scheme to go home, but I had felt all along that it was somewhat preposterous, and I was in no mood to play along at present.

  I pushed open the door to the library, prepared to offer my excuses, and found Mrs. Barrington collapsed against the back of her chair, sound asleep and snoring softly. I hesitated, wondering if I should perhaps awaken her, but I decided against it. There was no reason to disturb her, especially not now, as I intended to leave at the first convenient moment.

  A glance at the table showed that the sapphire bracelet was no longer in sight. It seemed improbable that the thief might actually have struck in my absence, so I supposed Mrs. Barrington had tucked it away before she drifted off. Well, our little charade would have to wait for another time.

  I left the room, closing the door softly behind me.

  The hallway was deserted, the quiet broken by the muted sounds of the ball drifting up from below: swelling music, the murmur of voices, and the occasional clink of china and crystal as the guests sampled the delicacies of the lavish buffet.

  I glanced again at the grandfather clock and saw that it was a quarter to midnight. Nearly time for the unmasking.

  Lord Dunmore said he would meet me downstairs, so I supposed it was time to make my way back to the ballroom. I dreaded bumping into Milo, but the place was so crowded that it was unlikely. In any event, there was no need for me to go on behaving as though I were the guilty party.

  I reached the railing and looked over at the stairs leading down into the foyer. The group still sat there at the top of the lower staircase, conversing as eagerly as ever. There was no sign of Milo.

  I started down the staircase and was halfway to the landing where the group sat when my foot slid out from under me. I grasped at the railing, but it was too late. I could not regain my footing. My ankle twisted painfully as I tried unsuccessfully to catch myself, and I fell down the last four steps, ending in an ungraceful heap at the landing, my dress tangled around me like a great sea of red foam.

  The four young people who had been seated on the stairs below me stood at once, and both of the gentlemen started up toward me. “Are you hurt?” one asked.

  “Mrs. Ames!” Lord Dunmore had appeared at the top of the stairs, from where I had just come, his face once again obscured by his black and silver mask. He was down the steps and at my side in the space of an instant, leaning down to help me up. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Just clumsy, I’m afraid.” I wrestled my skirt, which seemed to multiply in volume the more I moved. I was quite sure my face must be as crimson as my gown by this point, especially with so attentive an audience. At least the top half of my face was hidden behind a mask.

  Somehow Lord Dunmore managed to extricate m
e from the folds of my dress and help me to my feet. I winced as I tried to stand on my right ankle, and I gripped the banister, knowing my ankle could not support my weight.

  I smiled at the two gentlemen who still stood watching, though I rather expect it came across as more of a grimace. “Thank you for your concern. Please don’t let me disturb you.”

  Rather reluctantly, they made their way back down to their ladies, and I was relieved when the four of them sat again and resumed their conversation.

  Lord Dunmore was watching me carefully, his arm still around me, his hand at my waist. “You’ve hurt yourself, haven’t you?” he asked. “You’ve gone quite white.”

  “It’s only my ankle. I’ll be just fine in a moment,” I told him, though the pain seemed to be getting worse the longer I stood.

  “Let me help you.”

  “Yes, perhaps I had better go back up and sit down for a moment.”

  I tried to take the first step and lurched as the pain shot through my foot. I clenched my teeth. I was prepared to sit on the bottom step, when, without another word, Lord Dunmore swept me up into his arms.

  “Really, my lord,” I said in a breathless mixture of surprise and embarrassment. “This isn’t necessary.”

  “Of course it is. You need to see a doctor.”

  I sighed. “I’m sure it’s quite all right. If you’ll just have my car sent round, I’ll go home. I’m sure my ankle will be right as rain in the morning.”

  He ignored me and continued to carry me up the stairs, and I could see the interested group on the lower staircase looking up at us until he moved beyond the railings and down the hall.

  He moved past the library and then the room where I had seen Miss Echols, and I briefly wondered what had become of her. She certainly hadn’t passed us on the stairs. He stopped before a door midway down the corridor. Still holding me in his arms, he reached out and turned the knob before pushing the door open with his foot and carrying me inside. It was a beautiful bedroom, done in dark wood, emerald silks, and flocked wallpaper.