Read Online Seven Dreams by Charlotte E. English - Free Book Online Page B

Baron with a fatuous smile. ‘For
here before me is the proof, in the shape of a wilting
damsel.’
    Serena’s
increasingly murderous reflections were mercifully interrupted at
this moment, by the entrance of a blindingly red-and-gold clad
employee bearing a golden tray of cakes which he laid upon the tea
table. Another followed and set beside it a second golden tray full
of sandwiches, and yet another set an (inevitably) golden teapot in
the centre, together with matching cups. Serena took advantage of
the Baron’s momentary distraction to gaze around herself, taking
note of the number of cabinets that lined the walls. They were all
filled with assorted objects, and she hoped that Egg, Teyo or Jisp
had managed to examine this room before their party had occupied
it.
    No, she realised
a moment later, for surely that was the lively little person of
Jisp darting along the skirting-board. Or perhaps it was Teyo. The
lizard, whichever it was, scrambled up the wall and disappeared
over the top of the nearest cabinet. Serena, heart thumping a
little at this audaciousness, hoped fervently that the Baron had
not noticed.
    He was too busy
pouring tea. Serena was appalled to observe that even the steaming
beverage which splashed fragrantly into the dainty cups was gold.
He was definitely getting worse. She would have to throw that
golden silk ball gown away, she thought regretfully; it was
something of a favourite, but after today she would never be able
to look a golden object in the face again.
    She was further
alarmed to note that the Baron’s attention had turned to his
antiques, and that the notion of showing them to his guests had
entered his head. A moment ago she might have been delighted at so
perfect an opportunity to hunt for the key herself. Now that they
had a lizardly visitor, she wasn’t so sure.
    Fabian had not
observed their tiny guest, she swiftly concluded, for he accepted
the Baron’s offer with alacrity, casting a swift, meaningful look
in her direction. As Lord Bastavere, he was at his stateliest, and
she felt that even the egotistical Baron Anserval was a little bit
impressed by his lordship’s demeanour. Not that he required very
much encouragement. Scarcely giving his guests time to finish their
tea, he was up and offering Lady Fenella his arm.
    A thought
occurred to Serena; a ploy which, if she could pull it off, might
both salvage the situation and secure them a considerable
advantage. She smiled her charming best at the Baron, accepted his
arm with every apparent pleasure, and proclaimed, ‘How discerning a
collector you are, my lord! Truly, I have never seen so fine an
array as is displayed in this room.’
    The Baron, caught
between a swelling satisfaction and a lowering chagrin, made a
comical picture. Gratified he could not help being at this high
praise, but nor could he resist pointing out: ‘In this room! My
dear lady, you must be aware that this is but a fraction of the
whole.’
    ‘ Oh!’
she replied, blinking. ‘To be sure. Now that you put me in mind of
it, I do recall some one or two things in the hall, and perhaps the
library.’
    ‘ Mere
nothings! Trifles! My exhibits run the length and breadth of this
humble house, in point of fact, though I need not scruple to
entrust you, Lady Fenella, with the truth. I do not keep my
finest pieces on public display. How could I? They must be
constantly guarded from the predations of the greedy and envious.’
He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and added, ‘What
would you say if I told you that there are secret rooms in this
house?’
    Serena regretted,
for a brief, sharp instant, that the only way to handle such an
ignorant fool as the Baron was to pretend to even greater vacuity.
It grew wearing. She composed her face into an expression of
suitable surprise, and exclaimed.
    The Baron was
satisfied. ‘Very cunning, is it not? My acquisitions come under
constant scrutiny, and if I did not take all possible pains to
protect my