*
Kitty’s entrance intoValhalla had been everything she imagined. No, that was not sufficient, it had beenmorethan she could have imagined.
Lady Hathaway’s back garden had been transformed into an eerie place, suitable for the dead to be led into the company of Odin. The trees were hung with wisps of black gauze that were like so many phantoms waving their arms in the breeze. The pathway was lighted by candles in dark-waxed shades, giving the way forward a ghostly amber glow.
It might have been amusing to see footmen dressed as lady-Valkyries, had the costumes not been so menacing. A black cape covered their uniforms, black plumes rose from helmets of dark metal that descended over the nose with only slits for eyes. They appeared expressionless and it gave her a shiver.
One of those footmen silently led them onto a replica of a Viking ship, with an opening in the back to step in. The outside hull of the ship had long narrow brass poles running along the bottom on either side that were fitted into a metal track leading into the darkness. The boat’s tall and pointed bow seemed to reach yards ahead of them.
The footman-Valkyrie turned and pointed dramatically to the wooden benches that lined the middle of the boat. The party quickly seated themselves, hardly knowing what was to come next.
To Kitty’s delight, four Valkyrie-footmen boarded and pretended to row with the oars. The boat slid forward on the track, and Kitty assumed it was being pulled by ropes from the front. As she craned her neck, she saw they headed into some sort of dark tunnel. It appeared an arbor covered in heavy black cloth.
Kitty gripped her mother’s hand on one side and Frederick’s hand on the other.
Frederick squeezed back. Though he was forever teasing her, he would not tease when she felt the need for his hand.
She knew she was being ridiculous, but this trip into the darkness felt almost ominous. She found herself glad to be so surrounded by her family.
They sailed into the black abyss. The party fell silent. The only sound that reached their ears was the quiet shush of metal along a greased track each time they slid forward.
It seemed as if they would be in darkness forever, Kitty could see nothing but black ahead. She almost began to feel claustrophobic and squeezed Frederick’s hand harder.
Suddenly, the darkness gave way. A black blanket hung over the end of the tunnel had been flung off to reveal gay lights ahead.
“Well,” Lady Penderton said laughing, “Lady Hathaway has quite the imagination.”
“I have never experienced anything so marvelous,” Kitty said. “It was as if we really journeyed to Valhalla. I cannot imagine what awaits us inside.”
“Nor can I,” the baroness said, “though I expect we will have roasted boar at supper. Lady Hathaway always gets all the details right.”
“It will be a nice change from last year’s conger eel,” Frederick said, laughing.
They were helped off the boat and it began its backward journey into the tunnel to ferry more guests into Lady Hathaway’s house.
The corridor they were led down had been turned gold with painted shields in place of wallpaper. Lady Hathaway stood at the end of it, wearing a headdress even more elaborate than the footmen and clothed in a flowing gauze gown, belted and accented with bits of brass to give the illusion of armor.
She greeted Lady Penderton warmly, and Frederick too. She was delighted with Kitty, mostly because Kitty was so delighted with her garden Valhalla.
It was the ballroom, though, that took Kitty’s breath away. It had been transformed into Odin’s golden palace. The floor and the walls had been painted gold with flecks of the real article reflecting the candlelight. The ceiling, just as in Valhalla, was armored with gold breastplates. A boar’s head was mounted over the doors, and a large mural of Valkyries swooping down onto a battlefield to choose their men hung over the musicians. At the far end of the ballroom stood a statue of Odin, placed where he might view all of the recent arrivals to his Valhalla.
“There’s Jost,” Frederick said, making his way off.
“Miss Dell,” Lord Grayson said, suddenly beside her from she knew not where.
Kitty felt the usual flutter. In fact, even more so, as he had come upon her so suddenly.
He held out his hand for her card and she allowed him to put his name down. Kitty saw that he had taken supper. She felt a hesitation over it, but only for a moment. This night was to be too glorious to fret over whether Lord Grayson was Veritas or concern herself with wondering if she did not like him a bit too much for her own good. He looked smashing, as was his habit, the fit of his coat was perfection. She would dance and dine with him. Whatever the morrow might bring, she found she could not care less what had been said about her in the gentlemen’s clubs. She could not care less what would be said when it was noted that they dined together.
She really felt quite reckless. Perhaps it was crossing over to the afterlife and finding herself in this magnificent ballroom. Perhaps it was because she had decided not to involve herself so much in the mystery of Veritas.
For all her carefree feelings, she could not help but notice that Lord Grayson seemed more serious than his usual self. Perhaps he ruminated over his encounter with Sir John at Mrs. Herschel’s salon. He ought not to, this evening was not meant for ruminations.
After politely inquiring after her and Lady Penderton’s health, he had moved off and crossed the ballroom to his friend Lord Dalton. Kitty’s mother said, “Lord Grayson looks well, does he not?”
Kitty smiled. “He always looks well, mama. It is the one thing we can always count on him for.”
“Oh, I think you can count on him for a bit more than that.”
