Page 53 of Infamous

‘Almost?’ said Valentine. ‘Damn. Kitty, do you have any shears about your person?’

Kitty snorted. ‘Yes, I always keep a sharpened blade tucked into my bodice, for times such as these.’

‘You may come to need it yet,’ Dayo said gravely, nodding across the water to the distant lamps. ‘Here comes the cavalry.’

The pinpricks of light were converging on the far shore; as they watched, more and more seemed to flare up, bobbing gently like indolent fireflies. Dayo passed the bottle of wine down the line, and Kitty took an enormous swig.

‘I cannot believe they could find this many boats,’ said Albert. ‘Or .?.?. this many people, willing to lend their boats to such a cause.’

‘I’m sure they were paid handsomely,’ said Valentine. ‘Do you think any of Nash’s friends know how much a boat crossing ought to cost? They probably handed over enough blunt to purchase passage to America.’

They had all been banished from the house an hour before as Nash put the finishing touches on everything; Liza had disappeared upstairs to dress with a bottle of sherry in her hand and had not been seen since five o’clock.

In the spirit of All Hallows season, they were all dressed in the darkest clothes they owned without actually being in mourning blacks, excepting Kitty, who was in an inky, close-cut gown that Eddie imagined must have caused a few gentlemanly heart attacks at any funerals she attended wearing it, and Rose, who was defiant in Pomona green with a pale yellow ribbon in her hair. In a sea of dark, wintry hues, she looked like the first hope of spring. When Eddie had emerged from her room in muted puce, Nash had been on his way down the stairs; he had stopped, clapped a hand to his heart and then winked before disappearing back into the stairwell.

Eddie had needed a moment to recall that her own heart was not supposed to be racing in response before she went on her way.

‘Albert and I are going back,’ Rose said, as he stood and then lent her an arm to help her up. ‘Honestly, all this secrecy .?.?. What can he have possibly done to the house in the past hour that we haven’t seen already?’

She had a point. Eddie had already seen the nude Greek statue now decorated with climbing vines in the entrance hall; the enormous altars of chrysanthemums and Michaelmas daisies that had been rowed over the lake and installed on every available surface; the alarming and very rusty suits of armour that had been procured from some dark, damp corner of the house and set to guard almost every door. Nash had eschewed lamps in favour of naked candles, and had purchased so many that Eddie had felt slightly faint when she saw them being carried up from the dock, hundreds and hundreds of them, neatly wicked and wrapped in waxy bouquets with pale blue ribbon. They must have been sent all the way from London, last minute and at outrageous expense.

The boats were drawing nearer, and Eddie was suddenly gripped by a wave of foreboding, as if they really were attackers coming to lay siege to the house. Dayo, Valentine and Kitty passed the bottle back and forth along the line in silence, until a cacophony of shrieks and laughter began to float towards them, the sounds of a party that had already started back on the shore.

Eddie glanced back over her shoulder and saw that Nash had suddenly joined them with an uncharacteristic lack of ceremony, and was standing with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the lake. He was wearing a dark, wine-coloured justacorps and a heavily embellished waistcoat, a cocked hat with a large black plume in it balanced jauntily on his head. He looked like a pirate king: regal and dangerous, careless and commanding. Eddie realised with a jolt of pleasure that they were wearing almost exactly the same colour. A matching set.

Just as she was about to look back to the lake, he caught her eye and put a finger to his lips.

‘You never saw me,’ he mouthed, and then he turned with a whirl of his coat and disappeared into the darkness.

Not wanting to actually have to greet the oncoming hordes, Eddie and the others turned back for the house a few minutes later, picking their way through the pitch-black woods, drinking (everybody) and shrieking (Valentine) as branches reached out like phantom limbs to pluck at their clothing and trip them on the path.

‘I can’t see a damned thing,’ Dayo said, after grabbing for a tree and discovering that it was in fact Valentine he was clutching. ‘Didn’t we have a lantern?’

‘Miss Li and Mr Rednock took it,’ Valentine grunted. ‘I thought we would have acclimatised to the dark, like .?.?. large bats.’

When they finally made it up to the house, slightly worse for wear, light was blazing from every ground-floor window; Nash was standing on the doorstep, now with an enormous fur draped over his shoulders. He raised his hands in greeting and then frowned.

‘Oh, it’s just you. Get inside, will you? You are interfering with the grandeur of the proceedings.’

When they did enter, it immediately became clear what finishing touches Nash had been putting on the house in their absence: the dark wood floors of the entrance hall had been chalked all over with an enormous pentagram and various other symbols, glowing eerily in the candlelight.

Dayo stopped abruptly, his foot an inch away from one of the pentagram’s points.

‘What inGod’sname .?.?.?’

‘Certainly not inHisname,’ said Valentine. ‘Oh, look, I know this rune .?.?. it means “horse”. Do you think that’s what he meant to write? “Horse”?’

‘Liza is going to positively erupt when she sees this,’ Kitty said grimly. ‘Let’s take shelter in the drawing room until we achieve safety in numbers.’

*

An hour later they certainly had numbers, but safety was in short supply – almost immediately upon arrival, a gentleman had discovered the armoury and decided to arm himself, and his fellows had followed suit. As a result, it was hard to turn a corner or fetch a drink without bumping into a whole host of people clad in antique pauldrons and helms, clutching priceless rapiers, or with jewelled daggers stuffed into their belts. The theme of the evening, which had been vaguely Hallows-orientated, suddenly seemed to be some ghostly, childish game of knights and soldiers; Eddie was squeezing down the packed hallway after obtaining a glass of wine, searching in vain for somebody she recognised, when Valentine appeared and handed her an ornate duelling pistol.

‘What the hell is this for?’ Eddie shouted over the fracas.

‘Best be prepared,’ Valentine said, before melting back into the crowd.

Nash’s guests were exactly as to be expected. They were mostly young, loud and very dedicated to the spirit of the evening. Some of them had painted their lips in black or daubed their faces to look like skulls and demons; others were dressed in dramatic, trailing blacks, with lace veils and necklaces of polished jet. The noise was unbelievable. At one point Eddie saw Anne the maid, easily spooked at the best of times, place a tray of food down on a side table and then walk into what Eddie knew to be a small cupboard and close the door behind her.