Playing the Part

by Jen Turano

  “You pay me to keep you safe,” he reminded her.

  “I was hardly in any danger with Bram, and since I know full well that Ernie told you I’d gone out to find him, you had no reason to believe I was in any danger.”

  “We know relatively nothing about Mr. Haverstein, and given the disturbing shenanigans that have been happening in this very castle, you cannot blame me for doubting the motives of a man who has questionable jewelry and bloodied swords dropping out of fireplaces.”

  “And don’t forget cannons blasting off unexpectedly,” Tilda added. “I’m sure the neighbors were startled out of their sleep last night when the cannon fired off just as you and Miss Plum returned to the castle.”

  Mr. Skukman nodded. “That was unfortunate, although I’ve been hoping the cannon was simply fired as a way to allow the staff to know that they could discontinue searching for Miss Plum, and not for any other reason.”

  Tilda shook her head sadly. “Clearly you’ve not lived amongst the criminal—or rather, former criminal—element, Mr. Skukman. If you had, you’d realize that the cannon blasting off last night was to notify someone that you and Miss Plum had been spotted coming home.”

  Lucetta’s brow drew together. “As in a warning to someone who might have been searching the tower room?”

  Tilda shrugged. “That’s my guess. I could always be mistaken, but since someone went to great lengths to get you out of the tower and then out of the castle, I’m fairly certain I’m right.”

  “What would anyone want from the tower room?” Lucetta asked slowly. “I assure you, I brought nothing of value with me.”

  “You’re living with reformed criminals, Miss Plum,” Tilda explained. “While most of us have set aside our questionable ways for good, I’m afraid the lure of additional treasures hidden throughout the castle may be too great of a temptation for some.” She shrugged. “If I was still in the, well, stealth business, I’d search the tower room first. Specifically”—she nodded to the fireplace—“that.”

  “Because there might be more treasures stored up there,” Lucetta finished for her, rising to her feet. Making her way over to the fireplace, she stuck her head in, withdrawing it a second later. “Everything seems to be in order.”

  Tilda shook her head. “They wouldn’t have left traces, Miss Plum. They’d be too careful for that.”

  “I wouldn’t think donning a suit of armor was careful, if you really think about it,” Lucetta said. “Why, if I hadn’t been so taken aback by the sight, I could have very well confronted it. Being rather cumbersome, the person inside would have been hard-pressed to beat me to the door, and we could have easily discovered who is behind this mystery.”

  “Which is what the perpetrator has probably concluded as well,” Mr. Skukman said. “Especially since you said it sounded like he ran into the wall.”

  “But where did he go?” Lucetta asked, more to herself than anyone in the room. “He disappeared, which means there has to be a hidden passageway somewhere up here.”

  “You don’t have time to search for a passageway now, Miss Plum,” Tilda said. “It’s nearly seven, and the guests will be arriving soon.” She ruffled Mr. Skukman’s hair and then eyed him critically. “Well, it’s not a style anyone could consider fashionable, but I do think the curls are enough of a distraction that you won’t be recognized, especially after you put on the spectacles Miss Plum dug out of her trunk for you.”

  Picking up the spectacles, Mr. Skukman put them on and got to his feet. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” he said to Lucetta. “I want to do a preliminary walk-through, make sure nothing’s out of place.”

  “Everything’s out of place in the ballroom,” Ruby suddenly said as she breezed into the room with what looked to be a dress thrown over her arm. She came to an almost immediate stop and looked Mr. Skukman over from head to foot. “And you’re supposedly disguised as . . . ?”

  Mr. Skukman blinked. “I’m supposed to be a man about town, one who owns his own steamboat and stopped by to visit his very good friend Mr. Haverstein.”

  Ruby’s lips twitched ever so slightly. “Hmm . . . of course you are.” With that, she headed Lucetta’s way, handing over the gown. “I found this in the attic. It’s a little musty, but as you and I discussed over our lunch this afternoon, people might find it curious, given the look you want to achieve, if you’re wearing Worth cut in the latest styles.”

  “Indeed,” Lucetta agreed.

  “What look are you trying to achieve this evening?” Mr. Skukman asked slowly.

  Lucetta smiled. “You’ll see. But now, if everyone will excuse me, I need to finish getting ready, and in order to truly get into character—as you well know, Mr. Skukman—I need the room to myself.”

  “Oddly enough, I keep forgetting you’re an actress,” Ruby said, more to herself than to Lucetta. Shrugging, she smiled and turned back to Mr. Skukman, offering him her arm, which, Lucetta was surprised to see, he took rather quickly, actually smiling as Ruby spirited him out of the room.

  “That’s an interesting turn of events,” Tilda said with a nod to the door.

  “And a much nicer turn than the event Ruby originally had in mind, the one where she was going to seek out Mr. Grimstone and have him squire her about.”

  Tilda opened her mouth, seemed to think better of what she’d been about to say, and took the dress Ruby had brought for Lucetta. “I’ll just go give this a light pressing.” With that, she headed out of the tower room, closing the door behind her.

  Thinking Tilda’s behavior was a little curious, but knowing she was growing short on time, Lucetta drew in a deep breath, exhaled it slowly, and began assuming the identity of the woman she’d decided to become that evening.

  Not quite an hour later, Lucetta had completely transformed herself into the character she’d chosen to play. Her posture was less than perfect, her gait impeded by a slight limp, a limp she’d not forget to keep since she’d put a few stones in her right shoe, and her red wig was styled in a fashion that had gone out of fashion years before. Looking over the top of the deliberately smudged spectacles she’d put on to disguise her eyes, she considered the table of sweets that Bram’s staff had set up for the guests, debating what delicacy the character she was playing would prefer. Choosing a cookie dipped in chocolate, she was about to take a nibble when a delicious scent tickled her nose, a scent that was a mix of sandalwood, lime, and . . . Bram.

  “If Ruby hadn’t described the dress she’d found for you to wear, I’d never have been able to pick you out of the crowd,” Bram whispered in her ear, the warmth of his breath sending curious little tingles down her spine.

  Nerves had her popping the entire cookie she’d just picked up into her mouth, regretting that decision almost immediately when she realized her mouth had gone remarkably dry. Her heart had also taken to pitter-pattering at a most uncomfortable rate, and her hands inside the confines of a most hideous pair of lace gloves had taken to turning a little clammy.

  It was very baffling, the unusual antics of her body, but antics that she knew full well were a direct result of Bram’s whispering in her ear while standing remarkably close to her.

  That right there was the crux of the problem.

  His nearness was having an unusual effect on her, especially considering she was not a lady prone to clammy hands simply because a gentleman had whispered in her ear, his breath tickling that ear as each and every word escaped his mouth. Choking on that piece of nonsense, along with the cookie she’d shoved into her mouth, Lucetta staunchly banished the whole breath-tickling-her-ear idea because it was not helping the state of the pitter-pattering, or the state of not being able to catch her breath.

  A sound pounding between her shoulder blades had the air whizzing back into her lungs, even as she realized that Bram seemed to be trying to apologize to her.

  “It was completely unacceptable for me to steal up on you like that, Lucetta, and I do apologize for causing you to choke, but . . .” His words tr
ailed to nothing when she lifted her head, giving him an unobstructed view of her face.

  “And . . . you are not who I thought you were, so I fear I must apologize again,” he continued a little weakly, taking a large step back from her.

  “Don’t you worry about that for a single second, sir,” she said in a nasally drawl, having no idea why she wasn’t telling him her real identity, but seeming to have no control over what was pouring out of her mouth at that moment.

  When his eyes widened as his gaze settled on the mole she’d added right above her lip—a mole that had a long hair sprouting from it—it took every acting ability she had at her disposal to keep a straight face. “I’m just pleased as punch that you made such an honest mistake, although I have to wonder what lady you mistook me for since I’ve been told I’m one of a kind.” She took a second to look him up and down, even going so far as to tip her spectacles just a bit, but not enough to where Bram would get a good look at her eyes. Tapping a gloved finger against her chin, she smiled a very wide smile, knowing full well she was presenting Bram with a mouth that appeared to be missing quite a few teeth.

  To give the man his due, he barely winced as he returned her smile with one of his own.

  “I’m Bram Haverstein, at your service, and you would be . . . ?”

  “Enchanted, Mr. Haverstein, simply enchanted, and you may call me . . . Fauna.”

  “As in Mrs. Fauna?” he asked somewhat hopefully.

  “I’m not married, Mr. Haverstein, but . . .” She tipped her spectacles again and sent him a wink, one he pretended not to notice. “I wouldn’t mind if that circumstance were to change in the near future.”

  Bram smiled a little weakly. “I’m sure you must have many suitors.”

  “Nary a one, but my mother is still holding out hope. And speaking of my mother—would you be a dear and help me find her? The last I saw of her, she was in the ballroom, watching the ladies of Tarrytown set up the stage.” She sent Bram another wink and fanned her face with a gloved hand. “She’s a dear, dotty thing, but I bet she’d enjoy meeting you, and she’d adore seeing me on your arm.” She lowered her voice. “My mother has been worried for years that I’m destined to remain a spinster, so it will do her old heart good to see that I’ve procured the attention of such a dashing gentleman.” She smiled again as Bram’s face turned a little pale, but then, to her very great surprise, he took her arm and even gave it a most reassuring pat.

  “It would be my sincere pleasure to meet your mother, Miss Fauna.”

  For a second, Lucetta couldn’t breathe, or move, or even think, at least not clearly.

  It was rare to find genuine kindness in the world, and yet she’d seen Bram offer just that very thing time and time again.

  The urge to bolt was immediate, an urge that was completely ridiculous, but one that stemmed from the fact she was beginning to find Bram just a little too appealing.

  From what she’d discovered about the gentleman thus far, he was a man who thrived on taking care of people, and that was the last thing she wanted—especially given that she’d vowed to herself after her father had died that she’d never allow anyone to take care of her again.

  Her father, while he’d been alive, had taken excellent care of Lucetta and her mother, making certain they had all the creature comforts in life, while giving Lucetta all the love and attention she craved.

  She’d loved him more than anyone else in the world, but then . . .

  He’d left her.

  Not only had he left her, but he’d made her promise to take care of everything, including her mother, and . . . because Lucetta had loved her father so very, very much, she’d made him that promise—and her life had been forever altered because of it.

  “Miss Fauna? Are you feeling unwell?”

  Shoving aside the dark thoughts that had no business popping out of the deep recesses of her mind when she was smack in the midst of a social event, Lucetta cleared her throat. “I’m fine,” she said as she dropped her nasal tone. “Even if you’ve put a damper on what should have been a most amusing bit of frivolity by going and turning all noble on me.”

  Bram stopped patting her arm. “Lucetta?”

  “One and the same.”

  Bram leaned closer to her, peering intently into her face before he grinned. “That was a brilliant performance, some of your best work to date, and as we both know”—his grin widened—“I’ve seen a good deal of your work.”

  Her pulse immediately took to rushing through her veins, that circumstance due to the idea he was comfortable with addressing his past infatuation with her and wasn’t opposed to poking a bit of fun at himself in the process.

  It was quickly becoming clear that—after their amusing antics of the night before and now seeing the ease in which Bram dealt with a subject that had to still be a little painful to him—he was a gentleman in possession of a wonderful sense of humor.

  There was something very appealing about that side of him, something that tugged at her heart and had those curious little tingles running down her spine again. Realizing she’d lapsed into silence for quite some time, and that that silence was earning a close look from Bram in the process, she shoved the spectacles back into place and lifted her chin. “I’m delighted you’re enjoying my performance this evening, and . . . to go along with that performance, since Ruby’s putting it about that I’m a distant cousin of yours, allow me to properly introduce myself. I’m Fauna Fremont, I’ve never married, I have an overabundance of cats that live with me, and . . .” She grinned. “This is the most interesting tidbit of all about me—I am currently enthralled with the study of plants that consume insects.”

  Bram frowned. “Do you know anything about plants that consume insects?”

  “Only what I read in the book Ruby thrust into my hands a short time ago.”

  “Why would Ruby make up such a peculiar tidbit about you?”

  “Apparently Mr. Skukman enjoys the study of plants, as well as poems by Lord Byron, and he suggested the book about plants for Ruby to read. She then evidently came to the conclusion that I’d be seen as more eccentric if I had the ability to wax on and on about carnivorous plants.”

  “But you haven’t had time to study that book yet,” Bram pointed out. “So you won’t be able to wax on and on about them.”

  Unwilling to admit that she’d already read the book, and in a relatively short period of time, Lucetta summoned up a smile, that smile turning into a laugh when Bram shuddered ever so slightly at the sight of her missing teeth.

  “Shall we go look over the other delicacies your mother had your staff prepare?” she asked when Bram didn’t seem capable of looking away from her face.

  “I’m afraid I might be put off food for a while,” he admitted slowly before he extended her his arm. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to squiring you around to peruse the delicacies, as long as I don’t have to watch you eat them.”

  A sliver of delight rolled over her when Bram linked his arm with hers and walked with her through the receiving room. She knew she looked a complete and utter fright, and yet, he still wanted to spend time in her company. That idea left her feeling far too warm and tingly, especially since there was still so much mystery surrounding Bram, mystery that included diamond necklaces, bloody swords, and armor that went bump in the night, not to . . .

  “Why would Mr. Skukman suggest a book to my sister?” Bram suddenly asked, pulling Lucetta straight from her musings.

  “Oh, uh . . . hmm” was all she could think to respond.

  “He doesn’t have romantic intentions toward her, does he . . . or . . . she for him?” he asked, bringing them to a stop directly in front of a rather disturbing tapestry. It appeared to portray some epic battle scene, the blood spilled from that battle a brilliant shade of red.

  Pulling her attention away from the violent scene spread out above her, she caught Bram’s eye. “You would have to ask Ruby or Mr. Skukman that question, since neither one of them have chosen m
e as their confidante in the matter.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Bram said as he tightened his grip on Lucetta’s arm and hustled her across the room.

  “You’re just going to find your sister or Mr. Skukman now, and . . . badger them about their interest in each other?”

  “I’m not going to badger Mr. Skukman about it, since I obviously don’t know him well, and . . . he’s a little frightening at times. But my sister, on the other hand—as her older brother, I have every right to question her about her, uh, interests.”

  “I haven’t gotten the impression Ruby’s the type of lady to enjoy interference,” Lucetta said as Bram released a grunt of satisfaction and steered her to the right, stopping abruptly when they were still a few feet away from where Ruby was sitting on a vivid red round divan.

  “Someone’s given her a script.”

  Lucetta wrinkled her nose. “It’s a theatrical event. Of course someone gave Ruby a script.”

  “I would have thought they’d have learned from past events that Ruby should never be given a script. She can’t act . . . at all, and . . . she can be . . . difficult.”

  “It’s a local event, Bram. How bad could she be, and . . . I’m sure Ruby’s not difficult.”

  Bram’s only answer to that was a shudder before he urged her back into motion again, coming to a stop directly in front of Ruby.

  For a moment, she didn’t acknowledge them as she continued reading the script, squinting a second later at something on the page. Picking up a pen, she scribbled out a line, adding in one of her own over the top of the printed words.

  “One would have thought after what happened the last time you tried to change a script that you would have learned your lesson,” Bram said after Ruby finished writing.

  Looking up, Ruby sent them a sad shake of her head. “It’s an even shoddier story than the last one we were forced to perform, and I have to say, I’m beginning to question the taste of the Tarrytown ladies who formed our theatrical group.”