they’d already collected. Lizzie feared the ball was going to be a horrible crush.
It was. But at least she was admitted without fuss or interest and no one seemed to notice that she had neither escort nor female companion, even when she quietly left her bag in the ladies’ cloakroom. And then she was among thousands of people in a blaze of light and beauty. At first, she just wandered in a daze through the huge, white and gold panelled ballroom, where thousands of candles in magnificent chandeliers dazzled her, to one scarcely smaller, and then along an orange lined, covered pathway to another magnificent ballroom in the Spanish Riding School. Smooth, parquet floors seemed to glide under her outdoor shoes which she did her best to hide under the cloak. Galleries and seats full of glittering women and brilliantly braided men overwhelmed her. Most wore their cloaks casually open, revealing gorgeous attire and expensive jewels.
How the devil , Lizzie wondered in dismay, am I to find my aunt, never mind Johnnie, in this throng?
For some reason, she’d never imagined this sheer number of people. On the other hand, from overheard snippets of conversation, neither had anyone else. Someone claimed the ball had been oversubscribed to begin with; someone else was outraged by the number of guests who’d bribed the doormen to let them in.
And then the royal party arrived. Lizzie had only the tiniest glimpse when everyone bowed and she could finally see over their heads. A frail, white-haired man with a bony face led the procession, presumably the Emperor of Austria himself, his Empress on his arm. Towering behind them, was the tall, fair, angelically beautiful couple that could only be the Tsar and Tsarina of Russia.
A whole host of glittering dignitaries followed, too dazzling for Lizzie to separate. They made their stately way down the grand staircase, processing around the room to the raised platform draped in white silk and silver, where the two empresses took their seats at the front, the lesser queens, grand duchesses, and princesses behind.
It was luck in the end that directed her to her aunt. As she again wandered through the ballrooms, she became aware of a conversation nearby between an English voice and a German-sounding one.
“Perhaps that is Lady Castlereagh, with her niece,” the German voice suggested.
“No, I can guarantee it isn’t,” the Englishman disputed. “Lady Castlereagh does not break the Sabbath by attending. If I’m not much mistaken, that’s Mrs. Daniels and her daughter. Daniels is on Stewart’s staff.”
Lizzie immediately turned to see where they were looking and finally found the figures of Aunt Lucy and Minerva, masked but blessedly familiar, their amber and white domino cloaks open to reveal the finery of their attire. And the necklace around her aunt’s throat. So all Lizzie had to do now was keep them in sight—while finding the thief, Johnnie…
The orchestra struck up while she weaved anxiously among the scented and bejeweled crowd, glancing alternately over to her aunt who appeared to be introducing young men to Minerva, and around the room in search of the ball’s least respectable guest, if only to call off the theft. She had quite decided this was the best way to proceed. In fact, she couldn’t imagine how she hadn’t considered the effect of such a personal assault before.
Possibly because Madame Fischer had seemed to take it so much in her stride. But once she actually thought of it, it was Madame Fischer’s reaction which had been odd. She suspected the woman had to be positively unfeeling rather than brave, in which case, it wasn’t at all good that James should pursue her…
The emperor and the tsarina were advancing to the center of the floor to open the ball, followed by the tsar and the empress, and a stately Polonaise began, the couples in a long line parading around the ballroom. Minerva was dancing with a young man in green, much to Lizzie’s relief
It was. But at least she was admitted without fuss or interest and no one seemed to notice that she had neither escort nor female companion, even when she quietly left her bag in the ladies’ cloakroom. And then she was among thousands of people in a blaze of light and beauty. At first, she just wandered in a daze through the huge, white and gold panelled ballroom, where thousands of candles in magnificent chandeliers dazzled her, to one scarcely smaller, and then along an orange lined, covered pathway to another magnificent ballroom in the Spanish Riding School. Smooth, parquet floors seemed to glide under her outdoor shoes which she did her best to hide under the cloak. Galleries and seats full of glittering women and brilliantly braided men overwhelmed her. Most wore their cloaks casually open, revealing gorgeous attire and expensive jewels.
How the devil , Lizzie wondered in dismay, am I to find my aunt, never mind Johnnie, in this throng?
For some reason, she’d never imagined this sheer number of people. On the other hand, from overheard snippets of conversation, neither had anyone else. Someone claimed the ball had been oversubscribed to begin with; someone else was outraged by the number of guests who’d bribed the doormen to let them in.
And then the royal party arrived. Lizzie had only the tiniest glimpse when everyone bowed and she could finally see over their heads. A frail, white-haired man with a bony face led the procession, presumably the Emperor of Austria himself, his Empress on his arm. Towering behind them, was the tall, fair, angelically beautiful couple that could only be the Tsar and Tsarina of Russia.
A whole host of glittering dignitaries followed, too dazzling for Lizzie to separate. They made their stately way down the grand staircase, processing around the room to the raised platform draped in white silk and silver, where the two empresses took their seats at the front, the lesser queens, grand duchesses, and princesses behind.
It was luck in the end that directed her to her aunt. As she again wandered through the ballrooms, she became aware of a conversation nearby between an English voice and a German-sounding one.
“Perhaps that is Lady Castlereagh, with her niece,” the German voice suggested.
“No, I can guarantee it isn’t,” the Englishman disputed. “Lady Castlereagh does not break the Sabbath by attending. If I’m not much mistaken, that’s Mrs. Daniels and her daughter. Daniels is on Stewart’s staff.”
Lizzie immediately turned to see where they were looking and finally found the figures of Aunt Lucy and Minerva, masked but blessedly familiar, their amber and white domino cloaks open to reveal the finery of their attire. And the necklace around her aunt’s throat. So all Lizzie had to do now was keep them in sight—while finding the thief, Johnnie…
The orchestra struck up while she weaved anxiously among the scented and bejeweled crowd, glancing alternately over to her aunt who appeared to be introducing young men to Minerva, and around the room in search of the ball’s least respectable guest, if only to call off the theft. She had quite decided this was the best way to proceed. In fact, she couldn’t imagine how she hadn’t considered the effect of such a personal assault before.
Possibly because Madame Fischer had seemed to take it so much in her stride. But once she actually thought of it, it was Madame Fischer’s reaction which had been odd. She suspected the woman had to be positively unfeeling rather than brave, in which case, it wasn’t at all good that James should pursue her…
The emperor and the tsarina were advancing to the center of the floor to open the ball, followed by the tsar and the empress, and a stately Polonaise began, the couples in a long line parading around the ballroom. Minerva was dancing with a young man in green, much to Lizzie’s relief
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