Chapter Fifteen
Inspector Burke was as fascinated by the rest of the attendees as five balloon-like airships flew in to the ballroom from one of the anterooms.
The flickering light that shone within the “balloon” itself spoke of candles, but his mathematical mind was wondering how it was possible to know a variety of different measurements.
How much heat should those candles generate? How much should they weigh to lift their own weight and that of the structure around them? How long would they burn and would everything begin to sink as the wicks burned down?
“Stop it, James.”
He glanced down to see Charlotte shaking her head at him. “You’re trying to work out the mechanics of it, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “Can you blame me? They are quite interesting, and unique.”
“Which is exactly what Lady Alwynne wanted. So she has her wish, thanks to von Landau.”
“Ah,” said James. “That’s how they all work so well then. I have a great deal of respect for the Baron’s analytical abilities. They speak to an organized mind, which doubtless found these decorations a simple project to oversee.”
Charlotte linked her arm through his, and drew him away from the guests into a small alcove, designed for those who preferred to watch. Since it was currently empty, they both sat on the curved French sofa placed there for weary revelers.
“Give me your opinion of the Baron, James? I’m curious to know what you make of the man.”
He thought for a few moments, his eyes forward, but seeing nothing of the stately measures now underway. “I would not want to underestimate him.” A brief comment but one he knew Charlotte would understand.
She did. “Agreed, most wholeheartedly.”
“He is brilliant. Not just in intelligence, which in and of itself is saying something. But he also has the ability to make snap judgements about the people with whom he interacts, and adjusts his behaviour accordingly.” James glanced down at her. “I watched him for a while; he spoke with young ladies, danced with one, even. Then he joined a group of gentlemen, after that a military man or two and then some older ladies. He managed to entertain them all.”
“No mean feat.”
“Indeed.” James pursed his lips. “But he is too…too perfect.”
“In what way?” Charlotte looked at him. “Can you explain that?”
“I sense that beneath the superbly crafted exterior, there is a predator lying in wait. Like a tiger allowing a child to pet him, to rub his ears and stroke his fur. But always watching…”
“Until the beast awakens.” Charlotte finished the sentence. “I hope you’re wrong, but I agree with that assessment.”
“As far as his motivation goes, I’m going to hazard a guess, since I have had so little interaction with him. But he is very willing—some might say eager—to laud the accomplishments of everyone else. His modesty must be remarked upon.”
“It is,” confirmed Charlotte. “I had an example of it just now when he was talking about the chair. He praised both the Harburys to the skies.”
Burke nodded. “So one has to ask oneself…is he really so deprecating of his own contributions? I cannot believe that is the case. I think he’s really seeking some recognition that will satisfy his yearning for appreciation. Yet conversely he compliments others…”
“Perhaps he’s hoping he will be contradicted and forced to admit to his own abilities?”
James thought about the question. “I like that. Yes, it makes sense, doesn’t it?” He smiled at Charlotte. “You’re astoundingly brilliant, in case I hadn’t mentioned it recently.”
“I know,” she smirked. “But go on…”
“Well, once having admitted his own abilities, others will be free to shower him with their approbations.”
“And he will have the approval he desires,” she finished his statement.
“He’s a scientist, and a very, very clever one,” added James. “We must never forget that. I have to wonder if his research work failed to receive the recognition he felt it deserved. That would be a harsh blow to anyone, but to a man like our Baron…well, it might have twisted his psyche in odd ways.”
“Agreed.” She nodded again. “Oh, wait…something’s going on…”
The music had stopped just before the end of the dance and all heads were turning to the far end of the ballroom, where the chair was now positioned to rise a little above the dancers.
The Baron stood beside it and holding out his hand, he called “My Lady. Lady Harbury…if you please…”
James and Charlotte stood, eager to see what was happening. Knowing how short she was, James reached over and lifted her onto the seat behind them. She grinned, nodded her thanks and clutched his shoulder for support.
Now they could both watch as Lady Alwynne carefully made her way up the few steps to the large flowered seat.
“A throne fit for a queen…our queen this evening.” von Landau’s voice filled the room “A gift from her husband.” He paused, and turned to his left as Lady Alwynne seated herself. “I’m so happy to be able to announce that yes, our evening is now complete.”
He raised his hand and everyone turned to observe a small piece of the balcony moving, and swinging outward into the ballroom, bringing with it a piece of the supporting column which had been cut into stairs. It was a brilliant piece of workmanship and nobody would have known it was there had it not revealed itself.
At the top, beginning a slow descent, was a figure shining in gold.
*~~*~~*
Charlotte couldn’t take her eyes off him, and the silence which had fallen told her others felt exactly the same.
Lord Harbury had selected a cloth of gold ensemble, adorned by what could have been a thousand diamonds. He glittered and sparkled as he walked down the small stairs, the white of his tall lace cravat almost obscured by the points of his lapels and the dazzling flashes of light from the garment.
Stylish shoes and cream breeches completed his attire, but in spite of all this finery, all eyes were drawn to his face.
For it was not there.
In its place was a mask. But not just any mask. This one looked to be made of hammered metal, and designed just for the Harbury visage.
One eye hole was open, revealing a human-looking orb staring around at the crowd, pale bluish grey in hue and larger than normal, although the lack of an eyelid might have increased that illusion.
On the other side of the mask there was no eye opening at all. Just a large round lens of some sort. Charlotte couldn’t see from this distance whether it was transparent—but it was quite prominent. A tube circled it, and continued up over the forehead to an assortment of odd metallic fittings. There were small cogs and gears incised in the cheek beneath his eye, and the patina was that of an ancient god’s mask, the likes of which she’d seen in on her travels through the Mediterranean. His hair had been neatly arranged around the edges to make it appear that one looked at the face of the man, not the mask they knew was there.
The feature that caught her eye more than the rest, however, was the mouth. Obviously some accommodation had to have been made so that Harbury could speak and eat.
Thus one side showed lips that were peeled back from teeth. Not the kind of white teeth one might expect, but yellowish rotting teeth, those one might find in the skull of a corpse.
It was disturbing in a visceral way, and Charlotte sucked in her breath as his Lordship reached the floor and began to walk through his guests to the end of the ballroom.
They parted silently, allowing him passage, dropping him a curtsey here and there, but overall just staring, as if unable to comprehend exactly what they were seeing.
He moved toward his wife, who sat on the chair, unmoving, her eyes fixed on her husband.
“Charlotte,” whispered James. “I have a very bad feeling about this…”
Since the hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up, she agreed with a brief nod.
“Come.” His hand slipped beneath her arm and she let him help her down from the chair.
They were on one side of the room, and at the end farthest away from where the Harburys were, so it was just a matter of silently shuffling backward along the wall, each little step taking them closer to safety.
“My Lords, Ladies and gentlemen. Friends.”
Lord Harbury’s voice was surprisingly clear, leading Charlotte to frown in puzzlement.
James leaned over. “I’m sure he has some kind of amplifying device in that mask,” he whispered. “Otherwise he’d never make himself heard.”
She nodded, even as she retreated a little more, pulling James with her.
“I want to thank you all for joining the festivities this evening, and for helping us honour and thank those brave men who defend Her Majesty’s realms from evil.”
A smattering of applause greeted this statement, and it grew as Lord Harbury reached the end of the ballroom and took his place on the raised platform next to the chair—and Lady Harbury.
“I hope my appearance is not too unpleasant, but sadly my condition makes such a pretense necessary. At least I can spend these few moments with you all, and make my sentiments known on such an august occasion.”
He put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. She never moved an inch, astonishing Charlotte, who watched in fascination.
“I must thank my dear wife for all her hard work. She has always thrown her heart and soul into whatever endeavor engaged her interest, and as you can see here, the results are often extraordinary. An explosion of brilliance, wouldn’t you say?”
Lady Alwynne’s head jerked around at those words, and the look she shot at her husband was anything but friendly.
“That’s it. Come on,” James grasped Charlotte’s hand firmly. “We’re leaving.”
“But…”
“Charlotte.” He stared at her. “Please. Trust me. Something is very wrong about all this. We have to go. Now.”
She looked into his eyes and saw a flicker of something that surprised her. It was fear.
“All right.”