𝑨 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒔𝒕

🎊𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚅𝙸𝙸 Part II: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝🔪

NARRATOR'S POINT OF VIEW:

As they stepped into the grand ballroom, Poirot and Charlotte paused for a moment to take in the scene. The room was resplendent, illuminated by the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that hung like glistening jewels from the ceiling. Guests in elegant attire moved gracefully across the polished floor, engaged in animated conversations or gliding effortlessly in time to the orchestra's lilting waltz.

With his forearm crossed lightly over Charlotte's, Poirot guided her through the throng, weaving between clusters of finely dressed guests. His eyes, sharp and ever-observant, flitted discreetly from face to face until they came to rest upon the figures of Salome and Rosalie Otterbourne. The elder Miss Otterbourne, a woman of striking presence, stood with one hand resting lightly on her hip, her other still holding her beloved guitar. Rosalie, standing close by, looked as composed as ever, her expression brightening the moment she noticed Poirot and Charlotte approaching.

Rosalie Otterbourne: "Good evening, Mr. Poirot, Charlotte!" she greeted them warmly, a note of enthusiasm coloring her tone. "Isn't this something?" She gestured expansively to the opulent surroundings. "Mrs. Van Schuyler's really outdone herself-must've spent a small fortune making this the most dazzling party in all of England! Every single guest is just floored by how grand everything is."

Hercule Poirot: inclined his head, his eyes twinkling slightly as he took in Rosalie's cheerful exuberance. "Indeed, Mademoiselle Rosalie, it is a fête of considerable magnificence. But then, Mrs. Van Schuyler has always known how to make a statement, n'est-ce pas?"

Salome Otterbourne: her dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of humor and appreciation, leaned forward slightly. "Oh, you could say that again, Monsieur Poirot." Her accent had the faintest lilt of New Orleans to it, giving her words a touch of musicality. "You know Marie-she's never one to do things by halves. But..." she lowered her voice conspiratorially, glancing around as if to ensure no one was within earshot, "I do wonder what's got her on edge tonight. She might look calm, but I can see it-the tension in her shoulders, the way she's been watching the room."

Hercule Poirot: he exchanged a brief, significant glance with Charlotte before responding. "Ah, Madame Otterbourne, your powers of observation are as keen as ever. Perhaps it is only the natural nerves of a hostess wishing for everything to proceed perfectly. But then, there are shadows-shadows that can intrude even upon the brightest of lights, oui?"

Rosalie Otterbourne: she frowned slightly, her gaze sharpening. "Shadows? What do you mean by that, Mr. Poirot? Are you talking about... what happened back then?" Her voice dropped a notch, and for a fleeting moment, her eyes clouded with something unreadable.

Hercule Poirot: "Non, non, Mademoiselle," he demurred softly, though his tone was serious. "Only that the past has a way of lingering, sometimes in ways we do not expect. But tell me, how have you both been? It has been some time since we last met."

Salome Otterbourne: she let out a rich, throaty laugh, a sound that seemed to carry a touch of sadness beneath its surface. "Oh, we've been managing, Monsieur. Playing a few clubs here and there, doing some private performances. Not exactly the heady heights of old, but we're making do." She glanced fondly at Rosalie. "And this one-she's the one holding it all together, keeping me out of trouble."

Rosalie Otterbourne: rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Just making sure she's on time for rehearsals is a job in itself," she quipped. "But honestly, we've been alright. I'm just glad we got invited tonight." She glanced back towards the direction of Mrs. Van Schuyler's private rooms. "Though I still can't figure out why Mrs. Van Schuyler wanted us here so badly. We haven't exactly been in her social circle for... well, years."