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The Vanishing Thief(86)

By: Kate Parker


Finally, they led me over to a full-length looking glass. The eyeholes in the mask were large enough that I could see most of my reflection. Once I got past the décolletage, what I saw amazed me.

The dress flickered and rustled like flames around me. Emma, wearing a wrap over her corset and stockings, brought the ruby-handled dagger to me, and Madame Leclerc hung it from my sash. I looked like a Renaissance queen or an avenging goddess in a fairy tale. Except for my hair, which needed taming, I didn’t look like me.

I took a few steps away from the mirror and then returned. Emma and Lady Westover applauded. The skirt shimmered around me. The woman looking through the mask at me was no bookseller. She was a warrior, passionate and invincible.

“Yes, you will do very well.” Madame Leclerc and her assistant reversed the process, and when they finished, one of Lady Westover’s maids handed me a wrap to cover myself and keep me warm.

The dressmakers left to a round of thanks and then Lady Westover invited us to a late tea of cakes and sandwiches to hold us over until the midnight supper at the ball. Our best corsets were never designed for a full meal in our stomachs, and I was too nervous to eat more than one sandwich.

“How are we traveling to Arlington House?” I asked.

“By unmarked carriage. The two of you will arrive alone, and when asked for your names so you can be announced, say, ‘The Ice Queen and the Fire Queen.’ You are to arrive precisely at ten while the ball is in progress.”

“These are the Duke of Blackford’s orders?” I asked.

“Yes. It would so help if we knew what he has in mind.” Lady Westover wrung her hands. I’d only seen her do that once before, when her grandson disappeared in the course of an investigation.

I laid one of my hands on top of hers. “It’ll be all right. I’m sure the duke wouldn’t do anything to put us in danger.”

“Are you coming to the ball tonight?” Emma asked.

“Dear me, no. Balls are for young people. Besides, I need my beauty sleep. Waxpool is coming over tomorrow for a full report.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Do you two need a chaperone?”

She laughed. “No, just a full account after this affair ends.”

The longest part of readying for the ball was Emma doing her hair and then attacking mine. She called Lady Westover’s maid in for her assistance, holding strands of my hair while she pinned others. When they finished, an explosion wouldn’t have upset my coiffure.

Only then did Lady Westover’s lady’s maid help us into our clothes, necklaces, and masks, while Lady Westover outfitted us with our tiaras. The clock downstairs struck the half hour as we finished.

“How do I look?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t recognize you if I attended the ball tonight. And I’m certain there won’t be another costume like yours.”

I smiled at the dowager and started to leave the room.

“Oh. This won’t do,” she said behind me.

“What?”

“Long gloves. I almost forgot. Two pair, please,” she said to her maid.

When the maid returned, Emma slid on her twenty-button gloves and only needed to work three buttons at the wrists like a pro. I fumbled mine at first and needed help with the buttons from elbows to wrists. “Where is the mirror?” I asked when we finished.

“Downstairs in the parlor.”

My arms were bare from above the elbows to my flouncy little sleeves, but they were covered compared to my chest. When I looked in the mirror, the first thing that caught my eye was how much milky white breast appeared below the large ruby necklace. The part of my face not covered by the mask flamed in embarrassment. I felt as if I were flaunting myself.

“It’s a role, Georgia. Relax,” Emma said.

“Not one I’ve played often.”

“Perhaps you should more often for our investigations. You have the body for it,” she said and smiled.

“Thank you. And you look magnificent. As if you were born to play this part,” I told her.

“Come, ladies. Your carriage awaits. And come back here after the ball. I want to hear every detail,” Lady Westover said.

“Won’t you be asleep?”

“My maid will wake me. After all this planning and secrecy, I can’t wait to hear what happened. Especially since the duke has told the other blackmail victims that Drake will be at the ball.”

“What? Why did he do that?” Was Blackford hoping the guilty party would show themselves? Or was he hoping someone else would kill Drake and save him the trouble? Whatever the reason, our job just became more dangerous.

“I have no idea why. He mentioned it this morning.” Lady Westover hugged us each carefully so as not to wrinkle our dresses and walked us to the door. Her butler helped us into dark-colored evening cloaks. Now we looked the part on the outside. On the inside, I was a frightened little girl.