A Grave Robbery by Deanna Raybourn

Author:Deanna Raybourn [Raybourn, Deanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2024-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

17

Thoroughly reconciled to his fate if not precisely enthusiastic about it, Stoker accompanied me to the Curiosity Club in good time for the tableaux vivants. The club had been established in a townhouse on a leafy square that received little foot traffic apart from diligent nannies with their shiny perambulators and the odd ambassador from modest governments. As ever, my spirits rose at the sight of the quiet, elegant edifice. The club maintained a discreet entrance with only a small, highly polished brass plaque next to the bell proclaiming its more formal name and motto: the hippolyta club. alis volat propriis.

Upon entry, we were greeted by Hetty, a diminutive figure in scarlet silk and matching turban, who acted as portress but who was, in fact, the proprietress. Whether she performed the duties of portress to keep a gimlet eye upon everything that happened in the club or whether it was from an innate modesty was not entirely clear. What was apparent was her unruffled sangfroid as everyone else flapped and fluttered about her, plying her with questions about punch glasses and extra chairs and whether or not men should be permitted entrance to the smoking room as a special treat.

“Men are not allowed upstairs,” Hetty reminded the querent. “I know it is a special occasion, but any gentleman who wishes to partake of tobacco is welcome to take himself outside and enjoy a little fresh air whilst he does so.”

She turned to me with her customary half smile. “Veronica. Punctual to a pin, and I see you have brought Mr. Templeton-Vane. I understand you are to play Samson for us.”

Stoker flushed a delectable shade of rose, and Hetty took pity upon him. “There is a robing room for the gentlemen,” she advised him. The lobby where we stood had a chequered black-and-white marble floor. A carved wooden reception desk was backed by a wall of pigeonholes, each fitted with a tiny brass plaque bearing a member’s name. A few chairs, tall and extremely uncomfortable, upholstered in black horsehair, were ranged along one wall. The walls themselves were hung with crimson silk, almost exactly the same shade as Hetty’s gown, and more of the stuff hung draped in portieres to set off the arches leading to the rest of the club. A wide, sweeping staircase was marked off with a velvet rope bearing yet another brass plaque. members only. Hetty waved us in the direction of one of the other wings. “Veronica, after you have signed in your guest, please escort him to the robing room where he will find his loincloth and club.”

Stoker very nearly bolted at that, but I simply stood, waiting out his crise de confiance until he recovered his nerve. I towed him down the corridor and to the designated room.

“There. Lady C. said your costume will be marked with your name. You need only get yourself into it, and I will be waiting for you right here. She wants us in position well before the first guests arrive, so mind you do not take long,” I directed.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.