The Secret of the Debutantes

Chapter Six

For being a private affair, it was crowded in Lord Everough's house. I smiled and acknowledged one introduction after another. I made sure I stayed on the edge of the room, searching out the young ladies in attendance.

“Lemonade, Miss Norton?”

Startled by the voice near my ear, I turned and found a mustached, tall footman, holding a tray with a single glass of lemonade on it. I'd been afraid only champagne or other similar drinks would be offered. “Thank you,” I said automatically, lifting the glass from the tray. As I did, I realized that he had used my name and that I knew the grey eyes peering at me.

Mr. Holmes.

He was gone before I could say anything, though. I chuckled as I faced the room again. I wasn't the only one in disguise here.

I remained standing when my mother took center stage. She sang her favorite Wagner pieces. My eyes wandered the room. Most of the audience was paying rapt attention. Several young ladies, though, were moving their fans in manner that I knew in an instant. Every girl by the age of thirteen knew the messages that could be conveyed with a fan.

Lord Everough's daughter, Kathleen, and four other young ladies whom I had not been introduced to were communicating. I watched them, trying to figure out the conversation as I had missed several fan movements. One of the young ladies rested her closed fan against her waist and tapped four times. That I did not recognize.

Miss Everough and the other three girls brought their fans up to rest against their right cheek. Yes. They were acknowledging that something would happen. Or was already happening? Miss Everough looked particularly pale and nervous, for some reason.

The first young lady was twirling the fan in her left hand when I looked at her again. We are being watched. Swiftly, all the ladies dropped their fans to their laps and focused on the singing. I'd been spotted. The lady who'd warned her friends caught my eye and raised an eyebrow at me. I touched the tip of my fan with my finger.

I wish to speak to you.

Her fan moved to her left cheek, rested there a second, and then dropped. No. She looked away, her manner haughty.

Pursing my lips, I scanned the audience again. There were several empty chairs where there hadn't been before. Slowly, I began to walk towards the closest door. Something was happening now. I slipped out into the cooler hallway. On the pretext of fixing a small tear in my dress, I made my way up the stairs to the small rooms set aside for such a purpose.

Besides the bustle of the servants, it was quiet and became quieter the further from the main level. I heard the quiet creak of a door opening somewhere nearby. It was a slow, drawn out sound, as though whoever was behind it did not want to be heard. That did not bode well! Moving as quickly and quietly as I could, I hurried towards the sound.

A shadowy figure moved across the hallway. I must have made some sound for the man -I was certain it was a man- turned towards me. I went still, unsure what to do now that I found myself in the situation. The light was too dim for me to see anything as I stared at the intruder. He must have been staring at me in return because for a moment, he didn't move either.

Then, he bolted. “Stop!” I exclaimed, lunging forward. My dress was not made for such sudden moments, and I heard the rip of fabric. It also kept me from breathing and after a few yards, I had to stop, struggling to get air. That accursed tight corset!

“Which way?” Holmes demanded, suddenly beside me. I wasn't surprised.

Unable to speak, I pointed in the direction the intruder had gone. Holmes raced into the shadows and I was left on my own again.

“Miss, are you all right?” a maid asking, hurrying towards me. “I heard someone cry out.”

“Yes, yes,” I managed to say. “I-I lost my way.”

“Let me help you,” she offered. “I'll find some pins for that tear.”

Well, this night was going wonderfully!

~*~

The seam was pinned back in place and I returned to the ballroom. Mother's concert was over, and musicians were in place. “You look flushed, Serena,” Father said when I joined him. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” I assured him.

“Mr. Norton, may I have the privilege of dancing with your daughter?” a young man requested, offering a slight bow.

“Certainly, Kennedy,” Father responded. “Serena, this is Quentin Kennedy.”

The young man held his hand out to me without a word. I wasn't even going to be asked if I even wanted to dance? His eyes were studying me, with the hint of a challenge. “Thank you, sir,” I said, walking forward. He had to scramble to catch up to me as I strode towards the dancing couples. I faced him. “It would be my honor.”

“You're one of those independent types, aren't you?” Kennedy asked as he stepped closer. He pulled me into the waltz.

“I know my own mind.”

At least spinning around the room would give me the opportunity to see more of the other guests. I caught a look of jealousy from...all five of the fan communicating young ladies? Why was that? It couldn't possibly be because of who I was dancing with, could it? I gave my partner my attention. He was not terribly handsome, and he had an arrogant bearing in the way he moved.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“I'm trying to discover your character,” I said bluntly. “Why are you here?”

He laughed. “To enjoy the company of charming young ladies, such as yourself, Miss Norton,” he answered. “Also, I am Lord Everough's right hand man.”

“And will you do great deeds with your life? Or just accept the credit that comes your way for helping someone else do great things?”

Kennedy frowned at me. “You are an odd lady.”

A hand tapped his shoulder and a taller, dark haired man interrupted the dance. “If I may?” he asked.

With a bow, Kennedy took himself off and I continued dancing with my new partner. “I've never seen you before,” the unnamed man remarked, studying me as intently as my previous partner had. “This will be your first season?”

“This is my first party,” I answered, evading the question. “And you are...?”

“Jeremiah Graves,” he answered. And with that, he began to make light remarks on the company for the rest of the dance.

Barely a moment had passed when the waltz finished, and I was surrounded by other young men. This, I had not anticipated. Dancing was not conducive to watching for odd behavior! I could think of no graceful way to decline, and could only hope that Mr. Holmes had caught the intruder.