A Masquerade of Muertos (Wisteria Tearoom Mysteries Book 5)

by Patrice Greenwood

  “Comfortable?” Gabriel asked.

  Dee nodded.

  “Good.” He gathered his makeup box and the garment bag, and we all went downstairs.

  Dee slipped into the side hallway, heading for the kitchen. Gabriel, on his way to the back door, was buttonholed by a vision in blue—a naiad, perhaps—the watery gown clinging to her slender form, preposterously high spiked heels of a matching blue and glinting with blue gems, and a mask/headdress with a pair of slender horns curving upward through a forest of peacock feathers.

  “Gabriel,” said the vision, “You’d better get dressed.”

  I recognized the voice; it was Cherie.

  Gabriel paused to bow. “I’m just on my way to do that.”

  He continued down the hall and I turned to Cherie, instinctively trying to distract her, though I wasn’t quite sure why. “Do you have everything you need?”

  She turned toward the gift shop, and I followed her in. Most of the shop was blocked off by screens, and Poppy had been converted into an entryway for both Hyacinth and Dahlia. Hyacinth, the smallest of the alcoves, was now the blue chamber.

  “It’s going to be dark, and my lamps are blue,” Cherie said. “Could we get a little more light in here?”

  I peeked into Hyacinth. Even without furniture, it would be cozy for more than three or four people.

  “The fire will give some light,” I said, looking at the coals in the grate. “Gabriel wants to keep them going, right?”

  “Yes, but that won’t reach people’s faces,” Cherie said. “We should be able to see each other’s masks.”

  “I have something that might help.”

  I scurried upstairs to my suite and unplugged a small, stained glass lamp in the shape of a peacock’s tail from my dresser. I took it down and installed it on the mantel. When I switched it on, it cast a blue-green light through the alcove.

  “Oh, that’s better!” Cherie said. “Thanks!”

  “Why do people have to come through my chamber to get to yours?” said a female voice nearby. “He should have switched the order!”

  “They would have had to go through anyway, on the way out,” said a voice I recognized as Dale’s. “You’re not the only one, the other room has two crossovers.”

  I stepped out into Poppy and turned toward the east alcoves, where I saw draperies forming two arches side by side. The right hand one led to a short drapery passage passing the fireplace on the way toward Violet. The fire there was also down to coals. I’d have to build them all up. The left-hand arch showed a green drapery that angled left; I peeked around this and saw Margo and Dale standing in Dahlia, which was now the green chamber. Margo wore an emerald velour dress with black fur trim edging the low-cut bodice and a high, double-pointed princess hat from which floated a stiff black veil.

  Hennin. The word came into my head, a ghost risen from my theatrical past. That was the name of the hat. Except that the points of a hennin were usually straight, and Margo’s coiled like the horns of some African antelope.

  As for the dress, I was pretty sure that the women who had worn the style hundreds of years ago did not have tattoos. Margo had several, most noticeably the raven erupting from her cleavage, the effect of which was exaggerated by the tightly-laced bodice.

  Dale was trim and dashing in a rich purple brocade tunic over black tights. He smiled as I looked in.

  “You look great, Ms. Rosings.”

  “Ellen, please,” I said. “Thanks. So do you.”

  He made a swooping bow, taking off a beret-like hat with a big, purple ostrich feather. I couldn’t help smiling.

  “I’ll get some more firewood,” I said, backing out into the hall, where I almost ran into Kris, who was heading for the stairs. “Off to change?” I asked.

  She nodded and slipped past Ramon, who had set his guitar aside on its stand and sat idly rubbing his fingers. His hair was down, and I saw that he was letting it grow out. It already brushed his shoulders.

  “Will you be warm enough here?” I asked him.

  “Should be, thanks, if the fires are going.”

  “I was just going to fetch some more wood.”

  “Want a hand?”

  “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

  We collected the two wood slings from their home in the kitchen. The smell of the food made my stomach growl. Julio was piping salmon mousse into a gazillion tiny profiteroles, so I left him alone. Once the party started I’d come beg for scraps.

  At the back door, Ramon turned to me. “Let me bring it in. You don’t want to get your dress dirty.”

  He took one of the slings and headed for the firewood stacked along the driveway. I waited, traded him the empty sling for the full one, then carried the wood to the rack in Hyacinth. Ramon was at the back door with the other sling when I got back. It took two more swaps to fill all four of the firewood racks.

  “Could you bring in one more load?”

  “Sure.”

  I put the other sling away, glancing at the kitchen clock. Twenty after eight. The party would begin at nine.

  I added wood to both fires on the south side of the house, poking and coaxing them back to life. I eyed the drapery walls critically, decided they wouldn’t be a danger as long as the screens were over the fireplaces, and checked that the fire extinguishers were in place.

  The ofrenda in Violet was still on the mantel in all its splendor; Gabriel had been delighted with it and insisted it be left as it was. It had accumulated more mementos in the last few days. Someone had clipped Vi’s photo and bio from the summer’s opera program, which brought a lump to my throat. There was also a fresh piece of pan on a tiny, blue-and-white plate.

  I checked the fires on the north side, finishing with Rose, now the black chamber. The fabrics here were not ornate, unlike those in the other chambers. No brocade, no rich textures, just black velvet. Even the floor had been covered with a black rug. All the furniture had been moved out, leaving Rose looking quite austere with only the candle lamps on their stands and a third stand for food.

  Stepping through the draped archway into the dining parlor, I saw that the fire there was already rebuilt. A shadowy form rose up from beside it as the mantel clock began to chime, and my heart gave a heavy thump.

  11

  I took an instinctive step back even as I realized who the black-draped figure was. “Dee!”

  The clock’s chime, amplified by the house sound system, ceased. “I thought you were going to be hiding until midnight,” I added.

  “I am,” said the shadow. “I just thought I’d help with the fire. I’m not banished until eight.”

  “Well, thanks.” I unloaded the last of the wood into the rack, then held out the sling. “Want to stash this back in the kitchen?”

  “Sure.”

  She slunk across the hall as a knock fell on the front door. I started toward it, but Ramon was two steps ahead of me and had it open by the time I arrived. A flutter of white drifted in, followed by a festive figure in orange and black, carrying a large cardboard box.

  “Are we late?” The lady in white peeled off her outer layer, which proved to be a gorgeous hooded cape. It was Gwyneth, looking more ethereally lovely than ever in translucent layers of iridescent white that shimmered and floated with every movement. Her golden hair was piled on her head, white gems twinkling among the curls.

  “No, we’re on time,” said Roberto, shedding his black cloak to reveal a Spanish colonial style outfit in lush, variegated orange velvets.

  “You both look marvelous,” I said. “May I take your wraps? I can put them upstairs for safekeeping.”

  “Thank you,” said Gwyneth, handing me a cool armful of white satin.

  Roberto gave me his cloak with a smile of thanks, and proceeded to set the box on the floor and withdraw an airy construction of silver and gems, with shimmering, sheer ribbons and tiny white plumes trembling on the ends of wires. Gwyneth stood still while he lowered it onto her head, completing her magical outfit
.

  I hurried upstairs to lay the cloaks on the couch in my sitting area, and locked the door of my suite while I was there. As I turned back toward the stairs, I heard a low voice and froze.

  “At least I’ll be right next door, where I can keep an eye on you.”

  Kris. I looked toward her office. The door was closed, but I could see a light under it. She and Gabriel must be changing in there.

  “Don’t you trust me?” came Gabriel’s voice, confirming my assumption.

  “I trust you,” Kris answered after a moment.

  I trust him to be who he is.

  Biting my lip, I tiptoed downstairs, avoiding the fourth step down, which squeaked. I glanced into the dining parlor, empty and silent, waiting for the party. Impulse made me step in and look up at the motionless chandelier, wondering what the captain would think of the pageant that would shortly unfold in his former home.

  Julio came in to collect the cauldron. “Time to fill this,” he said, offering me a box of matches. “Mind lighting the tea lights?”

  “Not at all.” I did so, then followed him to the kitchen.

  Dee was at the break table, a glass of water with a straw in front of her, reading something on her cell phone. Julio poured the contents of a soup pot into the cauldron. Wine-scented steam, heavily laced with cinnamon and clove, wafted through the kitchen.

  “Oh, that smells good!” I said.

  “Have some. There’s plenty.”

  “No, I’m being good tonight.”

  “Well, there’s some cider on the stove if you want it,” he offered.

  He carried the cauldron back to the parlor, placed it on the stand over the tea lights, hung a ladle on its edge, and nodded approval.

  “Food’s ready,” he said. “Should I start putting it out?”

  “I think we should wait until the chamber minders are in place.”

  “You’re not still worried about someone messing with food,” he said, looking ready to be insulted.

  “Just—it’s best to be safe. Let me check with Gabriel.”

  With a small pang of trepidation, I started for the stairs. Kris came down as I reached them, and I waited at the foot, admiring her gown of flowing velvet, vaguely Grecian in style, such a dark violet that it almost looked black except when the light caught it. She wore a tiara of amethyst crystals in silver wire, a necklace of similar design, and her hair was caught back in a net of woven silver and violet thread to reveal earrings of two perfect polished amethyst drops. She carried a violet mask traced with silver filigree designs and glimmering with jewels in shades from lavender to concord grape.

  “Wow!” I said. “You look incredible!”

  “Thanks.” She smiled, blushing slightly as she reached the hall. “Gabriel designed it.”

  At the sound of his name Gabriel appeared on the stairs, and this time I really gasped. He had answered my musing about the absence of yellow from Poe’s color scheme: he was resplendent in gold, head to foot.

  A small, golden circlet bound his brow. His honey-colored hair was loose over the shoulders of an amber velvet doublet. His legs looked amazing in...not tights, as I’d thought at first, but period-style hosen, made of knitted jacquard. Having worked on the costume crew of a production of Romeo and Juliet whose designer was an authenticity freak, I appreciated the work it took to make hosen fit without sagging. He wore a pair of bejeweled golden slippers and an elaborate, golden mask that I suspected he had sculpted himself. He was supposed to be Prince Prospero, but though the period was different, I couldn’t help thinking of the Sun King.

  His eyes gleamed through the mask as he came slowly down the steps, watching me take in his glory. “My lady approves?” he said.

  “Very much,” I answered, dropping a curtsy.

  The trace of smugness in his voice diminished his attractiveness, but only slightly, and the sincerity of his “Thank you” made up for it. I was pleased to see him bow deeply over Kris’s hand. He couldn’t kiss it through the mask, but he made a good pantomime of it.

  “Are the chamber guardians all here?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, glancing toward the front door and wondering where Roberto had stashed his box. I could hear him and Gwyneth talking in the main parlor.

  “Good,” Gabriel said. “Let’s get them all together and do the walk-through.”

  Kris stepped toward the parlor. I went into the gift shop and poked my head into Hyacinth, where Cherie was adjusting the angle of the peacock lamp. “Gabriel wants everyone in the hall,” I told her, then fetched Margo and Dale.

  Gathered together, the seven chamber guardians made a gaudy display, probably the most colorful group of Goths ever seen. Gwyneth and Gabriel outshone the others, of course, the one white, the other golden. I couldn’t help thinking what a stunning couple they must have been.

  A lull fell in conversation as Gwyneth came toward Gabriel. Her pale gown and headdress trembled with each slow, small step. She had put on her half mask, so that I could see no facial expression except around her mouth, which was unsmiling. She stopped, facing Gabriel about three feet away, and slowly curtsied.

  Gabriel bowed deeply to her. “You shine, White Lady.”

  She smiled at that, briefly, then turned looking for Roberto, who immediately stepped to her side. He shot a glance at Gabriel, then murmured something into Gwyneth’s ear.

  “My friends,” Gabriel said, raising his voice but not shouting, “thank you for joining me. Let us tour the imperial suite and set the lamps alight!”

  He led the way through the gift shop to Hyacinth. I followed at the end of the group, smiling a little at Gabriel’s flair for the dramatic. Plainly he was getting into character.

  Five people were the most that could fit into Hyacinth. I had to wait in Poppy along with Dale, Margo, and Kris, though we could peek through the curtained passage into the room.

  “There should be no lights except the lanterns,” Gabriel said, looking at my peacock lamp on the mantel.

  “It’ll be too dark in here without it,” Cherie said.

  “But there will be the lanterns, and the firelight.” Gabriel leaned toward the passage to look at me. “Ellen? Could you turn out the overhead lights?”

  I stepped out to do so. Muted light from the street came through the curtained windows of the gift shop, but as I returned to Poppy I saw that they didn’t penetrate the draperies.

  A small flame flared up, followed by a blue glow as Gabriel lit the two candle lanterns. He reached up to turn off the peacock lamp.

  “I think it will be bright enough,” he said. “Our eyes will adjust. Let’s continue to the purple chamber.”

  Those of us waiting in Poppy stood back as they filed out. Margo and Dale gave the blue chamber a cursory glance, then hurried after the others. I stepped into Hyacinth and looked around. Gabriel was right; there was enough light, and though the monochrome lamplight was a bit off-putting, the firelight softened it. I glanced at the peacock, and noticed a sugar skull beside it, decorated with blue icing. Had Gabriel just put that there? I hadn’t seen it before.

  The others had all packed into Violet. I could have squeezed in, but chose to watch from the passage while Gabriel lit the lamps. Purple light flooded the chamber, casting looming shadows onto the draperies as the people moved. Probably exactly what Gabriel wanted, and at least in the purple light they looked more natural than in the blue. This room was also softened by firelight, and I spotted a sugar skull on the stand of one of the lamps.

  Gabriel led the group through a passage along the back wall into Dahlia, now the green chamber. This room was darker, since the draped passage was between it and the fire. As the lamps were lit, everyone was washed in green light, and I suddenly thought of the Bird Woman’s witch costume.

  “I’ll look like the Wizard of Oz,” Margo remarked, clearly thinking along similar lines.

  Gabriel bowed to her. “Guardian of the Emerald City.”

  Margo looked as if she didn’t know whe
ther to be flattered or offended. Biting my lip to keep from laughing, I followed the group back out through Poppy and into the hall. I remembered to glance over my shoulder and confirm that there was a sugar skull in Dahlia as well: also on a lamp stand.

  Curious who was adding the skulls, I looked at Gabriel as I came into the hall, but he wasn’t carrying anything but the matchbox. I examined each of the others, and noticed Dale carrying a black shoulder bag.

  “Now to the other chambers,” Gabriel said. “Lights off, again, please.”

  I dutifully switched out the lights in the main parlor, but hung back as Gabriel led the group through the short passage into the center of the room. Julio was coming up the hall.

  “Are we a go for putting out the food?” he asked. “It’s getting close to nine.”

  “Go ahead and put it out on that side,” I said, waving toward the south half of the building.

  Julio nodded and turned back toward the kitchen. As he passed the stairs I saw Ramon sit in his chair and pick up the guitar.

  I hurried through the passage into the center of the main parlor and stood looking at the four arches, each giving onto one of the alcoves. The group had moved into Jonquil, and Gabriel was lighting the orange lamps. They made the chamber seem very bright, especially compared with the green chamber. This was partly due to a very shiny, metallic brocade that made up part of the draperies. As Gabriel blew out the match, I noticed Dale slide a sugar skull onto one of the stands.

  When the party moved along the front of the house into Lily, a couple of them gave quiet exclamations of relief. Even without lighting, Lily glowed. Its drapery walls were all white, and when Gabriel struck a match I blinked at the brightness.

  “A fitting setting for the White Lady,” he said, and Gwyneth preened, smiling.

  Dale waited for the others to leave before slipping a white sugar skull onto the stand beside a lamp. He caught me watching him and grinned. I peered at the skull, confirming that it was indeed decorated, though the icing was white on white.

  “Your work?” I asked in a low voice.

  He shook his head, still grinning.