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Authors: Sally Quilford

BOOK: A Collector of Hearts
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Caroline looked across at Blake, who was looking at the
prince, who was looking at Mrs Oakengate with a strange expression on his face.

           
“Is there anything I can do to help, dear lady?” asked
Count Chlomsky, standing up.

           
“Thank you, sir, but I will be perfectly alright,” said
Mrs Oakengate.

           
As Caroline helped her up the stairs, Mrs Oakengate kept
repeating. “I was so sure. Now I don’t know anymore. But it must be. It must
be.” When Caroline tried to press her for information, Mrs Oakengate went
deathly quiet and refused to say anything else until they got to her room.

 
 

Chapter Seven

 
 

“Thank you, Caroline,” said
Mrs Oakengate, in a rare show of gratitude. She lay back on her bed “I think
I’ll just lie here for a while. Perhaps you could let me know when the courier
arrives from London.”

           
“Yes, of course. Would you like me to sit with you a
while?”

           
“No … yes. Just for a few minutes.”

           
Caroline brought a chair nearer to the bed, whilst Mrs
Oakengate closed her eyes. Caroline was sure she had fallen asleep, but then
she spoke again. “One doesn’t expect a grand passion, Caroline. Not at my age.
Love is for the young. But it would be nice sometimes to have someone there in
the evenings. Someone I have not had to pay to be with me. Is it so very
foolish of me to want that?”

           
“Not at all. It’s what we all want, I think.”

           
“Yes, but you young will have it. And you’ll waste it.
You always do. Just as I did. So many love affairs that came to nothing.”

           
“But you married?”

           
“My husband was a good man. A little dull. He worked in a
bank would you believe? But, I’ve been a widow for much longer than I was a
wife. And since then, well, men don’t look anymore. So one is flattered to
believe it when one seems to be looking. Do you understand?”

           
“You mean the prince?”

           
“Oh I wasn’t fooled by that. Not for a minute. As I said,
I’m not the fool that people take me for. Though how others have been fooled I
don’t know.”

           
“By what? By the prince? I’m not sure what you mean.”

           
“I think I’d like to be alone now. Wake me when the
courier gets here.”

           
Caroline left the room, boiling with frustration. Why,
she wondered, did people talk cryptically? Why not just come out and say
exactly what they mean? Mrs Oakengate was not usually so mysterious. She pretty
much said what she thought the rest of the time, even if she was often wrong.
So why the puzzling comments now? It was all too exasperating.

           
Caroline was exhausted through lack of sleep, but before
she lay down on her bed, she pulled a chest of drawers in front of the door
leading to the secret passageway. No one would be able to visit her tonight at
least. She slept until one of the maids knocked the main door to say that the
courier arrived. After waking Mrs Oakengate, as she had been asked, Caroline
went down to sign for the package. She found there were actually two packages.
One small package, which she knew held the Cariastan Heart, and a larger box,
which had the name of a well-known costumier emblazoned across it.

           
“Here they are, Mrs Oakengate,” said Caroline, when she
got back to their room. “There were two boxes.”

           
“Oh yes.” Mrs Oakengate had brightened up a little, but
still had a faraway look in her eyes. She sat at her dressing table, taking
some analgesics. “The other, as I mentioned earlier, is for you. Open it, and
let us take a look.” Caroline would have thought Mrs Oakengate would be more
interested in the Cariastan Heart, but did as she was told.

           
She pulled the lid off the box and gasped, lifting a gown
of emerald green velvet out. It felt soft and pliable in her hands. Underneath
it was a black satin cloak, and beneath that a silver mask. “Mrs Oakengate. I
don’t know what to say. It’s beautiful.”

“I thought you could go as
Lady Cassandra,” said Mrs Oakengate. “You’d look just like her if you let your
hair hang loose.”

           
Caroline felt a chill run down her spine. Something was
not right about this. Mrs Oakengate was not known to be insightful, nor would
she normally do anything that might bring her companion more attention than
herself. “That’s very kind, thank you. Whatever made you think of this?”

           
“Am I not able to come up with ideas myself?” Mrs
Oakengate snapped.

           
“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I am very grateful. I’ve
never had such a beautiful dress.”

“You don’t have it now. It’s
hired.”

“I’m still very grateful for
the trouble you’ve gone to. Thank you. Would you like to see the Cariastan
Heart now, to check it’s alright?”

           
“I am sure it will be. We will get ready and you can help
me put it on.”

           
Caroline felt a little deflated. She would have liked to
get a look herself, having heard so much about it, but it seemed rude to open
the box without Mrs Oakengate’s permission, so she simply put it on the
dressing table next to Mrs Oakengate.
 

 

Caroline did not have the
heart to admit how much she did not want to dress as Lady Cassandra at the
masked ball. Due to her night-time visits from what appeared to be the lady,
she felt there may be some bad luck associated with playing the role. She could
not put her finger on why she felt that way. Only that she did. But neither did
she want to throw Mrs Oakengate’s kind gesture in her face, even if she felt
slightly mystified over the reasons behind it.

           
All the secrecy put Caroline in a bad mood, so it was
with some reluctance that she put on the dress and gown, along with a silver mask,
and followed Mrs Oakengate downstairs to the hall. The guests were drinking
cocktails, whilst waiting to be called into the ballroom, where the party would
take place. Some guests had arrived just for that evening, swelling the number
of guests to over one hundred. They were a sight to behold, clad in various
fancy dress costumes, including characters from the
Commedia dell’arte
,
ghosts, vampires, mummies, clowns, several Marie Antoinettes, and quite a few
highwaymen. It made identification difficult.

Mrs Oakengate walked down
the stairs first. She wore a silver drop-waisted evening gown, in the nineteen
twenties style. Around her neck, she wore the Cariastan Heart. It glittered in
the gaslight, a large heart shaped diamond, surrounded by tiny rubies. The
guests began to applaud, and Caroline saw Mrs Oakengate visibly stand taller,
and begin to lose some of the darkness that had clouded her features all
afternoon. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, they all surrounded her,
eagerly wanting to get a closer glimpse at the famous diamond.

Descending the staircase
behind her employer, Caroline looked for a familiar face – Blake’s – but could
not find him in the crowd.

           
“Well,” said one of the Harlequins, coming forward and
bowing slightly. “You’re a sight to behold, Lady Cassandra.”

           
Caroline smiled awkwardly. “Good evening, Blake.” He took
her hand and led her down the rest of the staircase, ignoring Mrs Oakengate,
who stood alone looking somewhat bemused.

           
He gave a theatrical bow, which had she been in a better
mood would have made her laugh.

She turned back, and waited
for her employer, only to find Mrs Oakengate looking confused by the sea of
costumes surrounding her. Before Caroline could help, a rather short Laughing
Cavalier stood forward. “Please, Mrs Oakengate, let me clear up some of your
confusion.”

           
Mrs Oakengate gave an audible sigh of relief. “Count
Chlomsky, thank you. It is comforting to know there is someone on whom I can
still rely.”

           
The doors to the ballroom opened, and the guests started
pouring in.

           
“Is there a problem?” Blake asked Caroline, stopping her
from following them.

           
“Yes, there’s a problem. No one tells me anything, and
even Mrs Oakengate isn’t her usual forthright self.”

           
“You sound annoyed.”

           
“Oh I am many miles further on from being annoyed. I’m
fed up of people lying to me or not telling me what they know.”

           
“Does that include me?”

           
“Yes, it does as a matter of fact. First you’re an up and
coming director. Then you’re a political journalist. And now you’re the
grandson of the hotel magnate who owns this abbey. I can’t help wondering how
many more layers I’m expected to peel off before I find the real you, Blake.”

           
“I wish I could tell you…”

           
Caroline put up her hand to stop him speaking any
further. “No, don’t wish you could tell me. Just tell me. Otherwise, please
just leave me alone. I’m tired of all the subterfuge.” She stormed away from
him and grabbed a drink from one of the side tables in the hall. She almost
spilled it when Blake spun her around by the arm and pulled her into an alcove.
“You don’t have the god-given right to know everything, Caroline. Just because
your life and that of your notorious parents is an open book, doesn’t mean
everyone always has to tell you everything about themselves.”

           
Caroline gasped, as a searing pain shot through her. “Is
that what you think of me? I’m quite certain you’d have thought even less of me
if I’d lied about them and then you’d found out. But don’t you think that if
you’re talking about running away with someone, and expecting them to go along
with it, that person deserves honesty? Or am I just supposed to follow you
blindly, like my mother followed my father? Even if it means to my death?”

           
“Oh don’t be so dramatic. If you can’t trust me to be
doing the right thing, perhaps I don’t even want to run away with you anymore.”

           
“Good, because I’ve got better things to do.” Caroline
walked away with as much dignity as she could muster. At that moment she was
thankful for the silver mask covering half her face, so that no one else could
see the anguish she knew must be written there.

           
The funhouse mirrors which Caroline had seen in the room
off the secret passageway were set around the room, whilst guests stood in
front of them, laughing at their distorted appearance. It made Caroline shiver
to see their strange costumes rendered surreal. The fact that she had no idea
who was behind each costume did not help her feeling of unreality. She
recognised Mrs Oakengate, because she had helped her to dress, and she guessed
that the Laughing Cavalier sitting with her was still Count Chlomsky. But
everyone else looked a stranger to her. She tried to work out which one was the
prince, but could not. It brought home how ordinary looking he really was.
There were several short, portly men in the party – whom Caroline knew to be
directors or character actors – so in costume he looked no different to any of
them. Assuming he had made an appearance yet.

Bats and spiders, hung from
the ceiling, and a full size skeleton had been set in front of one of the
mirrors and somehow danced to the music. Only up close would anyone see the
fine strings guiding its actions, whilst one of the servants sat in the gallery
above the ballroom, pulling on them and seemingly having a whale of a time.
Smoke and mirrors, thought Caroline, to comfort herself. That was all it was.

She spied Anna Anderson in a
corner and made her way through the crowds, glad to at least see someone she
did recognise. Anna wore a simple green cocktail dress.

           
“You look magnificent,” said Anna. “For a moment there I
thought the portrait had come to life.”

           
“Oh please. Don’t. You’re not wearing a costume,”
Caroline said as she sat down.

           
“Lord no,” said Anna. “The powers that be would not allow
it.” She gestured across the room. “Just in case I outshine her. That’s her,
dressed as Marie Antoinette, and sidling up to that highwayman.”

           
“Hmm,” said Caroline. “Actress’s hey? Who’d have them?”

           
“You seem a bit upset. Problems with The Oakengate?”

           
“Actually I’m rather worried about the old girl. Something
spooked her today at lunch.”
  

           
“Yes, I noticed that. Her age getting to her perhaps?”

           
“I hope that’s all it is. I know she can be a bit
difficult, but to be honest I’d much rather have her like that. Difficult I can
cope with. Dazed and confused is a different matter. Believe it or not, I’m
actually rather fond of her. She is very much alone in the world.”

           
“She has you.”

           
“Yes, but as she pointed out today, she has to pay me.”
Caroline decided she had been a little indiscreet. She should not really be
talking about her private conversations with Mrs Oakengate. She changed the
subject. “Anna, do you know how the prince got invited to this party?”

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