The Mystery of the Jewelled Moth

by Katherine Woodfine

  ‘Oh, juggins,’ murmured Lil in a low voice. ‘It’s Mr Pendleton!’

  Sophie knew that Mr Pendleton was a wealthy young gentleman, one of the ‘stage door Johnnies’ who had haunted the Fortune Theatre when Lil had been performing there. He had proved an unexpected asset in their last adventure, when he had taken Lil to lunch in the Marble Court Restaurant, allowing her to observe a secret meeting being carried out by one of the Baron’s top men.

  ‘How jolly to see you,’ said Pendleton now, in his loud, carrying voice. ‘It’s been too long! I say, I hope you don’t mind me saying so, Miss Rose, but you do look simply marvellous in your costume! I’m afraid I look an awful fool in mine, but you’ve got to join in with the spirit of the occasion, eh?’ To Sophie and Lil’s horror, a number of people standing nearby were looking over at them, but Pendleton, quite oblivious to their discomfort, went on talking just as loudly as ever: ‘I s’pose your dance card is already full to bursting, but I’d be tickled pink to have the pleasure of a dance.’

  Lil looked at Sophie, not sure what to say, but Pendleton had already seized her dance card, and was enthusiastically writing his own name in half a dozen spaces. Sophie shrugged: for Lil to refuse a partner would certainly seem rude, and might risk drawing even more attention to them.

  A moment later, Mr Pendleton was leading Lil towards the dance floor, talking all the while: ‘I must tell you, Miss Rose, all about my new horses. A simply splendid pair. I’d love to take you for a drive in my carriage some time . . .’

  Sophie watched him depart with some relief. Whilst Lil was dancing, she could concentrate on locating the Baron. The ballroom was filling up with people; some were dancing, whilst others strolled arm-in-arm through the glass doors that led out on to a little terrace. She looked around her curiously, but a footman gave her a strange look. Apparently it was not the done thing for a young lady to be wandering around the ballroom alone. She spotted a group of debutantes sitting with their chaperones, clutching their dance cards and looking hopefully at passing gentlemen. She went over to them and quietly took a seat in an unobtrusive spot where she thought that she would blend in.

  Beyond, on the dance floor, she could see the occasional flash of crimson as Lil was steered around by Mr Pendleton. There was still no sign of the Baron, but from where she sat, she had the advantage of being able to overhear the gossip of the young ladies and their chaperones.

  ‘This is quite an affair,’ a stately elderly lady dressed in rustling black was saying, in tones that suggested that she did not altogether approve of it. ‘Beaucastle certainly knows how to do things in style,’ she added, a little resentfully.

  ‘Whoever would have thought that he’d take a fancy to Veronica Whiteley?’ said another lady from behind her feathered fan. ‘Such a peculiar match!’

  ‘Alice, don’t be a nitwit,’ said the elderly lady, dismissively. ‘The girl will come into an enormous fortune one day. There’s nothing in the least peculiar about that.’

  ‘But Lord Beaucastle of all people doesn’t need to marry money!’

  ‘One thing you should understand about wealthy men, my dear, is that however much money they have, they always think they need more of it,’ the elderly lady said briskly before changing the subject abruptly: ‘I see that Charlotte Montague is here tonight. How very unseemly! She ought to be in mourning, not gadding about at balls.’

  ‘But Emily was only her second cousin, Mama.’

  ‘I don’t care if she was. It’s entirely unsuitable, with poor Emily hardly buried. Why, when I was a girl, she’d have been in black for six months!’ She made another sudden change of tack. ‘Who is that dark girl, dancing with Eliza Pendleton’s boy? She’s quite the beauty – who is her family? She has a look of Lady Hamilton about her.’

  ‘I don’t know, Mama. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen her before.’

  ‘I know her, Grandmama!’ A younger voice joined the conversation. ‘Her name is Miss Rose – I met her at Veronica’s tea party last week and then she came to call on me.’

  ‘Rose?’ The voice was very sceptical now. ‘I don’t believe I know anyone by that name. Is she just out?’

  ‘Oh yes, and she’s an awfully good sort!’

  ‘Really, Phyllis,’ came the other lady’s voice, sounding irritated now. ‘Can’t you at least try to talk in a more ladylike manner? You should say: “She is very pleasant” or “Her company is delightful.”’

  To Sophie’s immense relief, just then the dance came to an end, and she saw that Lil, with some apologetic gestures, was managing to extract herself from Mr Pendleton. Sophie slipped out of her seat and hurried over to her.

  ‘Any sign of him?’ asked Lil, at once.

  Sophie shook her head.

  Lil sighed. ‘Like an idiot, I told Pendleton that I couldn’t possibly dance and leave you sitting on your own, and now he’s gone to get one of his chums to come and be your partner. We ought to slip off before they come back.’

  Sophie nodded. ‘We have to find the Baron. He must be here somewhere, but we need to be sure. We can’t risk wandering about the house unless we know he’s occupied.’

  Together, they moved off through the crowds. Sophie spotted a secluded corner quite close to the doorway that led towards the East Tower, and nudged Lil – but Lil was looking up in surprise at two smart gentlemen standing close by, drinking champagne.

  ‘Well I never! It’s Miss Rose, isn’t it? Our enthusiastic chorus girl from the Fortune?’

  ‘Why – Mr Mountville! And Mr Lloyd!’ Lil exclaimed in astonishment. ‘How do you do?’

  Like a number of the gentlemen in attendance, the pair were not wearing real costumes. Instead they were dressed in ordinary evening attire and carrying brightly coloured carnival masks. The taller of the two, whom Sophie couldn’t help noticing was extremely handsome, was looking at Lil with an amused expression. ‘Whatever are you doing here, my dear? This isn’t exactly a chorus girl’s usual haunt.’

  ‘Oh, society balls are where I spend all my evenings,’ said Lil loftily, looking as though she was rather enjoying herself.

  ‘Who’s your friend?’ asked the other gentleman, who wore spectacles and had a neatly curled moustache.

  ‘This is Sophie,’ explained Lil. ‘Sophie, this is Mr Mountville and this is Mr Lloyd. I worked with them at the Fortune Theatre.’

  ‘And are you an actress too?’ asked Mr Mountville.

  ‘No, I’m afraid not,’ said Sophie, politely, shaking their hands.

  ‘And I thought all the girls wanted to be on the stage these days,’ said Mr Lloyd, with a comical shrug. ‘Well, Miss Rose, hope you’ll come and see us to audition for our new show in a couple of weeks. Seeing you here tonight makes me think that you could be just the person for the part of Arabella in The Inheritance. ’

  Lil clapped her hands and gave a little exclamation of excitement. ‘Of course I will, Mr Mountville,’ she said. ‘I should simply love to play Arabella!’

  Sophie smiled too, pleased by this unexpected turn of events. She nudged Lil with her elbow to remind her that it was time to move on, but Lil simply grinned back at her happily, completely misunderstanding her meaning. Bubbling over with excitement, Lil plunged into conversation, asking the two gentlemen all about the play and the new theatre. They, in their turn, seemed amused and charmed by her company. One or two other people connected with London’s theatre set came over to join them, and before long, Lil was the centre of a chattering group. Sophie found herself standing on the fringes, simmering with frustration.

  Sophie could not believe how quickly Lil had become distracted when she knew that they only had until midnight to find the evidence. Well, she would simply have to track down the Baron, and then head for the East Tower by herself, she thought, in a burst of irritation. She plunged away from the group, into the crowd, but almost at once she found herself almost bumping right into a man striding in the opposite direction. She glanced up instinctively, and turned to ice. The man
was already turning away from her, but she had seen immediately who it was. Even if she hadn’t recognised him, she would have known it by the way everyone in the crowd was glancing over at him curiously. It was Mr Edward Sinclair!

  She darted towards a secluded corner she had seen in the shadow of a large potted palm. Her heart was racing. Why hadn’t they guessed that Mr Sinclair would be here? He was always invited to all the most exclusive society occasions. But if he saw her or Lil, he would be certain to recognise them, whether disguised or not. From her corner, she watched breathlessly as he went over to join a circle of gentlemen who were standing right in front of the East Tower doorway, each of whom shook his hand. As the crowds moved and shifted, she caught a glimpse of one of the gentlemen’s faces, and realised to her astonishment, that it was the very man she had been looking for – their host, Lord Beaucastle, the Baron.

  She stifled a gasp. She knew that the Baron hated Mr Sinclair – and yet here he was, shaking Mr Sinclair’s hand in a cheery fashion, clapping him on the shoulder, offering him a cigar. Even from here, she could see that his congenial manner was nothing like the cold, severe way she had seen him behave in private. She stared at the pair from her corner, fascinated. Neither of them had made any concession to the fancy-dress theme, and the black-and-white of their evening clothes stood out starkly amongst the bright satins and velvets and brocades of their companions. But whilst Mr Sinclair held a black domino mask that perfectly complemented his sleek, elegant evening dress, the Baron did not carry a mask at all.

  But then, he was already wearing a mask, Sophie realised suddenly. It was simply that his was invisible.

  Lil came hurrying over to her.

  ‘I say,’ she began, earnestly. ‘I’m awfully sorry. I completely lost track of time. It was too ghastly of me. I just got so dreadfully excited when they said I should audition for the new show.’

  ‘He’s here,’ said Sophie. ‘Look . And he’s talking to Mr Sinclair, of all people!’

  Lil followed her gaze. ‘But – but they’re standing right beside the door to the East Tower,’ she realised, her face falling. ‘We’ll never be able to slip through to the study if they stay there!’

  ‘Surely they can’t stand there all night,’ said Sophie. ‘They’ll have to move on eventually. They’ll have to dance – or go to supper – or –’

  ‘But we don’t have all night. We’ve hardly any time at all. Veronica should be here – it was supposed to be her job to keep him busy and out of our way!’

  But Veronica was still welcoming guests as they arrived. She showed no signs that she would be coming down into the ballroom any time soon, and the circle of gentlemen showed no signs of moving. Sophie and Lil looked at each other uncertainly.

  ‘Maybe there’s a way we could distract his attention away from that side of the room . . .’ mused Sophie. ‘What we need is some sort of a diversion.’

  Lil’s eyes brightened with sudden excitement. Recognising the look all too well, Sophie spoke hastily: ‘No, you can’t be the diversion! You need to help me find the evidence. And Mr Sinclair would recognise you. We’ll have to think of something else.’

  Lil glanced around the room, evidently hoping that inspiration would strike. As she scanned the crowd, two young ladies caught sight of her. They waved and then hurried over. The smaller of the two, who was dressed charmingly as a Harlequin, seized Lil’s hands.

  ‘Miss Rose!’

  ‘We wondered if we’d see you here!’ exclaimed the other, who had yellow hair and was wearing a fairy outfit.

  ‘Do you know everyone at this party?’ muttered Sophie crossly under her breath. ‘Whatever happened to not drawing attention to ourselves ?’

  ‘How jolly to see you again,’ Lil said cheerfully. ‘This is my friend Sophie Taylor. Sophie, these are Miss Chesterfield and Miss Woodhouse.’

  ‘Do call me Mary,’ said the smaller girl, grinning at Sophie. ‘And this is Phyllis.’

  ‘Why are you tucked away all by yourselves over here, and not dancing?’ asked Phyllis. ‘Miss Rose, I’m sure you ought to be the belle of the ball!’

  Lil gave Sophie a thoughtful look. ‘I say – Mary, Phyllis, do you think you could help us with something?’ asked Lil suddenly. Beside her, Sophie looked rather alarmed.

  ‘Help you?’ repeated Mary, in confusion. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

  At that moment, Mr Pendleton appeared. ‘Jolly good, here you are,’ he said, well pleased with himself. ‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere.’

  ‘Oh – Mr Pendleton!’ exclaimed Lil. ‘Well, perhaps you can help us too.’

  ‘And this is Hugo Devereaux,’ announced Mr Pendleton cheerfully, gesturing to the young man accompanying him. ‘Hugo, this is the delightful Miss Rose and –’ he looked uncertainly around at the other three young ladies.

  ‘Oh, never mind all that introductions nonsense now,’ said Lil, wafting her hand at him in impatience. ‘We need you all to help us.’

  ‘Lil – just wait a minute –’ began Sophie, not feeling at all sure about where this was leading.

  ‘Don’t fuss,’ said Lil, boldly. ‘No one else is going to help us, are they? Desperate times call for desperate measures. She who hesitates is lost, and all that.’ She turned briskly to Mary and Phyllis. ‘We have to create a diversion. Sophie and I need to get through that door over there, right where Lord Beaucastle and Mr Sinclair are standing, and no one can know where we have gone .’

  ‘Why?’ asked Phyllis, utterly baffled.

  Lil looked a little uncertain. Somehow she didn’t think there was much chance that any of them would believe that Lord Beaucastle, their generous host, was in fact a notorious villain. She plunged in as best she could: ‘There’s something fishy going on here at the ball – and Sophie and I have to get to the bottom of it. We can’t explain now; we haven’t time, but we need your help. Will you trust us for now? We can explain everything later – but first we need to find a way to distract everyone so we can get through that door without anyone noticing.’

  ‘Something fishy, you say?’ repeated Mr Pendleton, in an unnecessarily loud voice, looking around him curiously, as if he half-expected to see a halibut appearing out of the air.

  ‘Sssshhh! ’ exclaimed Sophie urgently.

  ‘This is secret – and important,’ Lil admonished him sternly. ‘Look, will you help us or not?’

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ said Mary, with an amused shrug. She looked as if she thought the whole thing was part of some kind of jolly prank. ‘It sounds more interesting than mooning around waiting for someone to ask you to dance, at any rate.’

  The others nodded too.

  ‘So, what do you think would get people’s attention?’ Sophie asked them, feeling very relieved that they seemed to be going along with Lil’s idea without asking too many questions. ‘What would make them all turn around and stare?’

  ‘Being loud or boisterous or unladylike,’ suggested Mary promptly.

  ‘Drinking too much champagne?’ contributed Hugo Devereaux, gamely.

  ‘Romping,’ added Phyllis in a meaningful voice.

  ‘Ladies swooning?’ went on Hugo.

  Pendleton just looked confused.

  ‘Swooning!’ exclaimed Lil. ‘That’s it! Perfect – you’re a genius! Phyllis, you swoon. You look like a swooner to me. Mary, you’ll have to react to it as dramatically as you can. You know, “Oh my goodness, Phyllis has swooned, how perfectly dreadful! ”’ Lil adopted a high, affected tone of voice. ‘Do you think you can do that?’

  Phyllis looked anxious. ‘But how will I pretend to swoon?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, that’s easy as pie,’ said Lil. ‘Just go all limp and fall over. It’s frightfully simple. You won’t hurt yourself a bit because Mr Devereaux here will catch you.’

  ‘But – but – what if we get into trouble?’ asked Phyllis hesitantly.

  ‘Oh come on, Phyllis, buck up,’ said Mary. ‘It’s just a lark. And besides, no one can possibly say it
’s unladylike.’

  ‘It’s awfully ladylike,’ agreed Lil. ‘The gentlemen will love it. A damsel in distress and all that. If you can stage a quick recovery, then I daresay your dance card will be full up for the rest of the evening!’

  Phyllis looked appeased by this; and as for Hugo Devereaux, it did not escape Sophie’s notice that he appeared rather pleased to have the opportunity to catch a swooning Phyllis.

  ‘What should I do?’ asked Pendleton, eager to be of assistance.

  ‘Oh just be fearfully worried. Chafe her wrists and call for smelling salts, that sort of thing.’

  ‘When should we do it?’ Mary asked eagerly.

  Lil opened her mouth to say that now was as good a time as any, but Sophie interjected hastily, ‘Give us time to position ourselves a little closer to the door first. Then – off you go.’

  She couldn’t help feeling some misgivings as they slipped through the crowd, but a few moments later, Mary’s voice rang out quite convincingly: ‘Oh heavens! Phyllis, are you ill? Someone fetch a doctor!’ Even Lil looked as though she thought Phyllis had done rather a nice job of the swooning. And as for Mr Devereaux, you would have thought that catching ladies was something he did every night of the week. Mary was throwing herself into her dramatic reaction with gusto, whilst Pendleton hovered next to her, trying to manufacture an anxious expression and only succeeding in looking vaguely perplexed.

  All around them, people turned to stare. Two footmen hurried over to provide assistance. Mr Sinclair looked around, startled. Beaucastle left their little circle and strode in Phyllis’s direction. In the commotion that resulted, no one noticed the two young ladies in Chinese costumes as they slipped through the door and out of the ballroom, into the hallway beyond.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Sophie and Lil tiptoed down a long, wood-panelled passageway. In contrast to the crowded ballroom, the corridor seemed deathly silent. The sounds of the party faded behind them. Now the only noise was the shuffling of their feet as they hurried along the parquet floor, very loud in the stillness. It seemed as if the whole house were holding its breath.