Milli snickered and then repaired to her bedroom to inspect her yellow crape.
At nine o’clock the following evening the Haywood carriage turned into Kennington Lane. Once the requisite three-and-sixpence per admission was defrayed, they entered through the turnstile and directly into the Grand Walk. Dusk had already settled in and the trees were festooned with variegated lamps and colored glass. The colonnaded supper-boxes were crowded with raucous diners, the tables adorned with white napery, and the liveried waiters were scurrying back and forth with laden meat platters, salads, and various potations.
There were no tigers to be seen, however. Only a few monkeys. But that was all right, for Milli had come here to be captivated by the splendor of promenading, handsome couples and to marvel at the gowns, the latest hairstyles, the vibrant headdresses, and the stunning jewelry. It was Milli’s opinion that no one could behold such resplendence and remain unaffected by it, so she glanced around, eager to see that her family was also suitably impressed; they were not.
Aunt and Uncle Haywood were talking to some acquaintances—a Mr. Cruikshank and his wife, if she was not mistaken—and Emma’s attention was drawn to a quieter part of the grove, at the other end of the Orchestra and dancers, where a gentlemen and four ladies were gathered beside a marble angel. Milli gasped, recognizing Valko and Victoria immediately. The other three were unknown to her. Victoria and Valko were really quite distinct, so tall and elegant, even at this distance.
Milli snatched Emma’s hand. Sparing a brief glance for her guardians, she begged to be excused a moment, promising her aunt that they would return in time to see the Cascade. “Hulloa!” Milli cried, waving her hand as she flew past the dancers with her sister in tow.
“Must you gallop and bray like a runaway donkey?” asked Emma, digging her heels in. “You’re drawing attention to yourself.”
“That is the point.”
The cousins appeared surprised to see them, but waved back nonetheless.
“There,” said Emma, “they’ve seen you, now rein yourself in, for heaven’s sake.”
Her sister was right, she wouldn’t want Mr. Valko thinking her too eager, and thus the brakes were instantly applied. It gave her time to consider what she would say to him, and it gave her a moment to contemplate his interest in the other three ladies. The blonde one did seem awfully familiar, and awfully ill-disposed to fashion. Although Milli’s own sister’s tastes, with her stern glasses and décolletage all draped in gauze up to the throat, were no less unfortunate, poor thing.
Suddenly, it occurred to Milli where she’d seen the blonde. “Emma, is that Madame Strange, the crystal gazer? You know, that woman you nearly plowed over last month.”
“I believe you’re right.” Emma then began squinting through her glasses in so unbecoming a manner that it pained Milli to watch her; she hoped Mr. Valko hadn’t noticed. “The two other ladies,” said Emma, “are the De Grigori sisters. I met them at the Littérature Étrange exhibition. I think they must all three be sisters, for they look so much alike despite their contrasting hair.”
“Fascinating.” Milli’s interest was for Valko alone. But he, regrettably, looked not the least bit interested in her yellow crape. She was further disappointed when he and the three Strange sisters disappeared towards Lover’s Walk.
A crippling dismay beset her at once, for he had barely offered a farewell nod. Her only consolation was that Victoria seemed pleased to see them, bestowing her usual affectionate welcome of kisses and smiles. Victoria conveyed her cousin’s regrets, but he was obliged to escort their friends (it was inconceivable that they should even claim such tragically-attired friends) to another engagement. One to which they were already late. All the while the excuse was made, Milli’s underlip trembled and would not cease doing so even as the conversation lapsed into pleasantries.
“Has Lord Winterly returned from Winterthurse?” Emma was asking. How obvious she was being. Victoria would likely not be fooled by such poorly feigned nonchalance.
Victoria chuckled. “He had planned to return on Tuesday, but his business keeps him in the country. Truly, I believe he will invent any excuse if it will keep him from London; although, he did promise he would escort me to the Full Moon Ball next Friday at the Argyll Rooms.”
“The Full Moon Ball?” Milli sagged in dejection. “I believe there are no more tickets to be had.” It was to be an exclusive affair and, as such, the vouchers had all been sold months ago, not that there had been the slightest hope for Milli. “Is Mr. Valko going too?” She was almost too dispirited to ask.
“He has been invited,” said Victoria, grinning. “And so have you, my dears. You shall find your tickets with your glass slippers when you get home.” She winked. “Or at least you shall when I post them off tomorrow.”
“Truly?” Milli’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, I could just die of happiness!” She hugged her fairy god-mother and then Emma and then her fairy god-mother again. “Thank you, Victoria!” If one could expire of euphoria then Milli was sure she’d be dead already.
“Now,” said Victoria, “I too must beg your leave, it is growing late and my supper, likewise, is growing old.”
Growing old? Surely she meant cold? These rich eccentrics did have some peculiar expressions. Well, that was of no moment because Millicent Rose was going to the Full Moon Ball and, soon after, would be sojourning in Winterthurse with aristocrats. So there was very little room in her bosom to care about anything growing old or cold, nor was she so very upset about Valko anymore.
As soon as Milli was home tonight, she would write to Sybil and Poppy in Little Snoring and tell them all about her upcoming adventures. How jealous her friends would be.
The sisters accompanied Victoria back to the Grand Walk and there saw her off before returning to their guardians.
“Now why would Mr. Valko,” said Emma, “be escorting the De Grigoris to another engagement via the Lover’s Walk. That’s entirely the wrong direction, and dark besides.”
Milli’s lips tightened. “I’m sure I don’t care to know.”
“Perhaps they took the long way to the proprietor’s house to avoid you.” Emma nudged her in the ribs playfully as they followed behind their guardians. “You did run at him like a charging bullock.”
“I much prefer the term runaway donkey, thank you, Emma. A donkey is far more dignified than a bullock.”
“Not when the donkey has caught sight of its darling; though, I admit, you did bray beautifully at him.”
They laughed, strolling along the graveled walkways and under the flowering arbors. Lively fiddlers serenaded the crowd and the sky erupted with color and light so impressive that Milli didn’t even care when she dropped half her sweets on the ground.
Thousands of lamps, strung like ribbons between the bowers, flickered amidst the stately trees and hedges. The orchestra itself, where a cotillion was underway, was illuminated with just as many tiny, twinkling lights. The cast iron pillars of the colonnades, under which they passed, too were bedecked with chatoyant lamps. Milli had never seen anything so whimsical, nor so spectacular as Vauxhall by night.