Fatal Masquerade. Vivian Conroy

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       Chapter Two

      Once safely upstairs, Alkmene took a deep breath. It wasn’t just Denise’s odd behaviour on the way over and the vicious spat with her stepmother. This whole house exuded an exaggerated opulence, a need to show off and prove the owners worthy of their place in high society. The guests who were already here and who would be arriving in the next few hours would also be social climbers eager to establish their right to be here. Everybody would be watching the others and trying to rank their own position in comparison. Alkmene intensely disliked social scrutiny and the quiet condemnation that came with not quite being up to par – in her case, because she was still unmarried.

      But she had accepted the invitation to the masked ball, and she had to make the best of it. She had to keep reiterating her solemn pledge to have a night of unspoiled enjoyment.

      Taking another soothing breath, Alkmene went into the corridor. On the way over, Denise had explained the layout of the house to her and described the location of her room. It should be down this corridor.

      Just as Alkmene was halfway there, a man came walking up to her, fast. The smug smile on his face, the air of utter self-confidence, struck her as extremely unpleasant. He gave a mock half-bow in her direction as he breezed past. His clothing suggested he wasn’t one of the guests, but one of the servants.

      It was very odd. Alkmene frowned a moment, her footfalls slowing. She hardly considered herself an expert in domestic affairs in a large country manor household, but she couldn’t see what a male servant would be doing up here, near the guest bedrooms. Getting those ready would be the task of the housekeeper and the maids under her charge. Perhaps the butler might have some errand here, but this man seemed too young and impudent to serve in such a responsible capacity.

      What was his function anyway? Still frowning, Alkmene entered her room.

      At the dressing table, the maid, Megan, stood. She gasped as Alkmene entered, throwing her hands up in a defensive gesture. On the floor in front of her feet was a broken perfume bottle. The contents soaked the expensive carpet while the scent filled the room with a headache-inducing intensity.

      Alkmene inched back from the strong scent. ‘What happened?’

      ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you. I’m so sorry. I’ll clean it up.’ Megan leaned down, her face tomato-red.

      Alkmene waved a hand in front of her face to diffuse the sharp perfume smell.

      Megan kept excusing herself, saying she was so sorry and she’d clean it up. With her trembling hands, she gathered the broken pieces of glass.

      ‘Be careful with that,’ Alkmene admonished her. ‘You could cut yourself. I’d better call for...’

      ‘Oh no, please. Don’t tell anybody about this. Please.’ The girl sounded desperate, on the verge of tears. ‘If you tell, I’ll be dismissed, and I need this work.’

      Alkmene suspected she had little experience and that a night full of pressure to perform at her best would prove even more disastrous. But she didn’t want to harm the girl’s prospects here. ‘Very well. I won’t call for anyone and I won’t talk about it. But you must be careful with all that broken glass. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.’

      The girl swallowed hard. ‘Your precious bottle, my lady.’

      ‘Oh, it’s not important. It was a gift for my birthday. I never took to the scent much, so…’ Alkmene went to the windows and threw them open wide. ‘There. That’s much better.’

      On the lawn the three men were still busy attaching Chinese lanterns to the trees. The gardens had to look like a midsummer night’s dream later on.

      Turning back into the room, Alkmene found the girl rubbing at the stained carpet. ‘Don’t do that. You’ll only make it worse.’

      ‘But if the housekeeper finds out...’

      Alkmene shook her head. ‘I have a much better idea. You come over here. Come over here to me. Come on.’

      The girl rose to her feet and came over, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. She looked as if she was afraid of being slapped across the cheeks.

      Alkmene said, ‘You were here putting out my clothes. I came into the room to fetch a present for my hostess. I pulled it out of the luggage so wildly the perfume bottle fell out and broke. I broke it. You understand?’

      The girl gaped at her. ‘Why would you say that, my lady?’

      ‘Because I want to call someone up to clean away the glass and get the stain out of the carpet. You don’t know how to do it, and I certainly don’t. We need someone else in here, and as we’re not going to tell anyone it was you who broke the bottle, I’ll just have to say I did. Nobody is going to blame me for it. I can break all of my perfume bottles all over Mrs Hargrove’s precious rugs.’

      Alkmene sounded a little more cheerful than she actually felt, as she suspected Mrs Hargrove would hate damage to any of her things and would blame her for it, even if she’d never say it to her face. And Denise might laugh at her that she was so clumsy, which would be awkward.

      But anything was better than letting this poor girl run the risk of getting dismissed even before she had had a chance to prove herself able. Megan probably had a family somewhere depending on the money she brought in.

      Alkmene said, ‘Are we agreed on this?’

      ‘I don’t understand.’ The girl’s eyes were huge and frightened. ‘Why would you lie for me?’

      ‘Because I’m in a much better position СКАЧАТЬ