Page 19 of A Widow for the Earl
CHAPTER TEN
“The game is simple,” Valeria said, adopting a commanding tone as she walked around the old ballroom, pulling the drapes closed one by one. “I have hidden the ceramic frog somewhere in this very room, and you must find it, but you will not have the advantage of sight. You must find it in the dark, with touch and instinct alone.”
The old ballroom was the largest room in the manor, and never used. Not by Beatrice, anyway. She wandered into it sometimes and daydreamed of hosting the most magnificent ball, then remembered what society thought of her and left again, sadder than when she had entered.
“I will surely come away from this game bruised,” Prudence said with a laugh, as Valeria moved to the last of the French doors, making a dramatic display of pulling the drapes across.
“Do you all know what you are looking for?” Valeria asked, coming to the final drape.
Beatrice nodded. “My favorite frog. So, please, do not break it if you are lucky enough to find it.”
It was the ugliest ornament she had ever beheld. The moment she first set eyes on it, in the days after her third husband’s death, it had been the most immediate and unyielding love. Every time she had looked at it, it had cheered her spirits a little more. Even now, she smiled whenever she saw it.
“What do we get if we find it?” Duncan asked brightly, getting into the spirit of his wife’s game.
Valeria chuckled, blushing a little under her husband’s admiring gaze. “You win the use of our seaside residence, whenever you desire.” She paused. “Of course, Prudence, you will have to be accompanied if you win.”
“I would not mind that,” Prudence replied. “As long as all of you are the ones accompanying me.”
She cast a subtle glance in Frederick’s direction, though she was not as discreet as she might have hoped. Beatrice frowned at the sight, looking to see if Frederick was gazing back at the young debutante. To her relief, he was not, his eyes flitting around the room as if he meant to spot the frog before the last drape closed.
Beatrice breathed a small sigh of relief, for though she adored Frederick, he was not at all suited to Prudence. They were too alike, too chaotic… and Vincent would never allow it, once he discovered Frederick’s association to Beatrice.
“Then, let us begin,” Valeria said in a spooky voice, as she sharply yanked the last drape closed, plunging the old ballroom into almost complete darkness.
As she heard the first shuffles of tentative feet on the parquet floor, Beatrice took a moment to get her bearings. She closed her eyes and imagined the old ballroom, thinking of all the obstacles and potential hiding places. She was positioned close to the center, and knew there were dust-sheet covered chairs and tables to her right, with a fireplace and a timeworn chaise-longue further to her left.
There were half-empty bookcases down at the far end, and another fireplace. At the opposite end, cupboards that were designed to look like part of the wall, where a variety of rugs and fresh table linens were kept.
Where would you hide the frog, Valery? Which part of the room would call to you?
An idea came to her, and she set off with her arms stretched out ahead of her, feeling her way through the darkness.
“Ow!” someone yelled, the scrape of a chair leg sounding out the cause.
“I am not sure I like this!” Teresa called out, laughing nervously.
“You live in a castle, my darling,” Cyrus called back to her. “You cannot be afraid of an ordinary ballroom.”
Teresa chuckled in the darkness. “It isbecauseI live in a castle that I am ever conscious of ghosts, my love!”
Would a ghost scare you, Vincent? If I could conjure one, and make it believable enough, would you run from here and never return?
Beatrice considered the shadow puppets, wondering if there was a way she could use the same method to create a ghost at Wycliffe Manor. Failing that, perhaps the performers would be willing to help her cause. She could pay them to dress in white and run through the hallways screaming, or have them appear at Vincent’s window, or have one ride across the lawns in the dead of night in a costume that made him appear headless.
“Ow!” a cry came again. Definitely Prudence.
Pausing for a moment, Beatrice listened to the breaths and footsteps of her fellow searchers. Tilting her head, she thought she heard a door open and close: the cupboards, perhaps, or the door to the storage room. The sound disoriented her, for if itwaseither of those, then she was too close to the northern end of the room.
Turning to try and get her bearings again, making matters worse, she shuffled forward, reaching out her fingertips. Hoping to feel something that would give her an idea of where she was in the room.
She has hidden the frog behind the drapes. I would bet my life on it.Valeria was clever, and that was the smartest place to hidethe object in order to achieve the maximum amount of chaos before it was found.
But Beatrice could not figure out where the French doors were, utterly lost in the darkness.
“Is everyone still there?” she asked, chuckling.
A chorus of assent echoed back, bringing a merrier laugh to her lips. Valeria had done well to suggest this, putting everyone back into the spirit of the party.
