Mr. Violet exited the carriage first and called back, “It looks like we should get moving. I’d hate for the party to start without us!”
Genie was second and disagreed,
“Now, now Mister Violet. Now that we’re here there’s no need to rush. Seems like we arrived just in time though, a couple minutes of tardiness shouldn’t bother anyone.” Debora, third, took the hand Genie offered as she descended from the carriage. Her gaze was immediately drawn to Wilde Hall, but she took a moment to feel the ground beneath her feet before letting go of Genie’s hand. Both were solid evidence of reality, and she strived to further shed the eerie feeling that glimpse of the lake had offered her.
The Hall loomed before them, and for all its party atmosphere, Debora could not help but feel the open door was not all too dissimilar to the twisted iron gates they had passed through. Was Genie rendezvousing with someone here, Debora wondered. Was Mr. Violet? Would they each split in their own directions as they entered the Hall? Debora found she did not relish the thought of parting with their company yet.
She knew very little about these men, but they were the only familiar touchstones in the wild costumed throng.
“One should not bolt into a party, but let’s do get a drink,” Debora urged. She cast a glance back at the coach, wondering where Red would go.
Red met Debora’s gaze as she glanced back into the carriage. Debora watched him disembark like a long-time prairie dweller would a wall cloud settling on the horizon. Trouble would surface from Mr. Red tonight, his name promised as much.
She faced forward when Mr. Violet gestured to the hall, wrestling with the urge to check her watch.
Then Red called out ‘Adams!’ and Debora turned, skin prickling in alarm. Not yet! No more than a dozen feet ahead of where their carriage had come to a halt on the drive, there sat an automobile. All sleek silver paint and polished metal, it was an impressive vehicle, Red was rapidly closing distance towards the hulking man standing beside it. He didn’t turn at Mister Red’s call, but that fact seemed to do little to dissuade Mister Red.
“Adams!”
The lanky figure of the coachman started to move too, long arms seeming to reach for Mister Red, but the movements were too slow, too stilted, and Mister Red was already past. A few more strides, and he reached the hulking figure by the motorcar.
“Adams! What the hell are you doing here?”
For the first time, the other man seemed to notice Mister Red, heavy head turning to look down. The voice that emerged from the figure was rough. Emotionless. “I don’t know you.”
“Like hell you don’t, Adams! It’s me. It’s Ashton.”
The voice was more determined now, giving little room for a response. “I said, I don’t know you.”
Two of the carriage drivers struggled to tug the larger man away from the scene and other servants converged on the area in a response shockingly disproportionate to any perceived offense. Mr. Violet seemed in a similar state, as he looked between her and Genie.
At first, Debora felt a release of tension. She had known Red’s future would involve some violence, and now his implied threat was being removed. Her own mission could be completed all the better without a loose cannon blundering around the hall.
Then she remembered the body of the man at her office, his tattered uniform, the dark forms closing the gates behind them… Her own mission… Debora looked at the hulking ‘Adams’ impassive face, and the corners of her eyes tightened in resolve.
“Gracious! What’s all this?” Debora questioned. She stepped towards the confrontation, acutely aware that she was distancing herself from her fellow traveling companions.
“What rights have you to put hands on a guest for simply asking a question of a servant?” She demanded of the coachmen
Debora stood alone and exposed, flanked by only the cold bulk of emptying motorcars and carriages. Then things shifted, the coachman reeled and there was a flash of some emotion on his face, though it was impossible to pin down. Unsurprisingly, Red chose that moment to move in for an attack. Debora gritted her teeth behind her veil. His strike was lightning quick and unrestrained. The blow caught the other coachman square on, forcing him backward and dislodging his hat. The face revealed was sickly white, oddly without a speck of blood or bruising. Red recovered nearly as quickly drawing up one hand while the other disappeared into a coat pocket. Once again, servants began to swarm closer.
Here was the violence. Debora’s intervention had merely been a finger stuck in a soon to be broken dam. She took a step back, frustration turning to anxiety. She should have entered the Hall immediately. Now she might have lost her window of opportunity.
Suddenly, a sharp voice shouted from behind. “Gentlemen! Control yourselves!”
In all the chaos, no one had noticed the new carriage arriving behind them. No one had noticed the man that stepped down, and now stood, half-lit by the light streaming from the windows of Wilde Hall, but everyone noticed him now. The man was large, broad-shouldered, and broad-waisted. A mess of red hair framed an ornate gold leaf mask, red cheeks marking a face that promised a certain jolliness, but there was no mirth in the fierce green eyes. Nor in the tight grip that one large hand had on the handle of the cane at the man's side. It had been this man's voice, his bellow, that had sounded above the noise of the struggle, but he was not alone. Another man came from within the carriage, shorter than the green eyes man, but leanly built, and wearing the uniform of a soldier. This soldier did not have the same fierceness as the first man, but he was clearly on edge, eyes moving from Mister Red to the coachmen, to Mister Violet, and back to the green-eyed man as the other newcomer spoke again.
"Morgan? Josiah? What is the meaning of this?"
The two coachmen that had been restraining Mister Red just moments before seemed to straighten up, almost snapping to attention at the man's call. In the brief instant that had passed, the shorter of the two black-coated servants had managed to rescue his wide-brimmed hat from the floor at his feet, and return it to its place, his face once again shrouded in shadow. Neither of the coachmen said a word, but it seemingly did nothing to deter the green-eyed man.
"This man is a guest. If you have a problem with him, then you raise it with Lady Wilde, understand?”
The green-eyed man was moving now, cane tapping on the drive with every second step. He passed where Eugene, Debora, and Mister Violet still stood and reached Mister Red. The two servants stepped back, heads dipping, and the green-eyed man seemed to be taking in the sight of Mister Red for a moment. For his part, the southern man still looked just as on edge, one hand still reaching into his jacket, and he flinched as the green-eyed man thrust his own hand towards him.
"I apologize a hundred times over for the... actions of these servants, sir. It is clear there has been some terrible misunderstanding. My name is Professor Green, and I assure you that these men will be properly disciplined."
This newcomer was obviously involved in Wilde Hall’s operation. Debora felt a wave of profound unease to be so near to an integral member of Wilde Hall Hierarchy. She could understand Red’s reluctance to shake hands. When he did accept, Green pulled him close and seemed to say something to him before turning towards her and the others.
"I can only extend that apology to the three of you. As I said, clearly there has been some misunderstanding. You have my personal assurance that this unsavory moment will not spoil your evening! From this moment onwards, please allow me to consider all of you my companions."
While open violence had been postponed, this outcome was anything but favorable. As Debora had feared, her interference had linked her, and possibly the group, to Red and any caution shown towards him would be liberally spread. Now they would have a Wilde aligned chaperone.
“A gentlemanly gesture, Professor Green.” Debora said, bringing a hand to her collar bone,
“-Mrs. Copper, if you please- And quite the tonic for any ‘unsavory moment’ as you say. Which brings to mind, we were just on our way to refreshment if you would be so kind as to direct us. We dare not claim any of your valuable time.” Professor Green’s gaze quickly settled on Debora as she spoke, his smile unfaltering. At her introduction, he dipped his head. Now that she was able to get a better look at him, she took in his ornate, gold leaf mask, the frailty of it looking starkly out of place against his broad features. “Mrs Copper. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, and of your companions.”
Mister Violet had clearly recovered from his moment of shock, the easy-going smile flashing across his face again as he confidently stepped towards Professor Green, seizing the other man’s hand and shaking it firmly.
“Well met, old boy. I am Mister Violet for the evening.”
Professor Green returned the handshake in kind, but Mister Violet was speaking again before he could reply.
“I dare say Mrs Copper makes an excellent suggestion. A stiff drink would do us all the world of good!” Professor Green smiled again, clearly amused by the exuberance of Mister Violet.
“Well put, my friend. Please, go on ahead. I merely need a moment to ensure that these men fully understand the severity of their actions, and then I will join you shortly.”
Genie seemed to want to move on quickly as well.
““Much obliged Mr. Green. I am called Genie.Mrs. Copper, that’s an excellent idea. It’s a party after all, why don’t we go and experience the beauty of Wilde Hall.” Debora turned her attention to Wilde Hall for a brief instant, catching a flicker of movement. “Hold there!” Professor Green shouted. Debora’s pulse quickened as she faced him again. The red headed man smiled the same mirthless smile, still flanked by the servants and Red. Debora wondered at this last. What had Green said to the Texan to retain his attention?
The professor introduced his other companion. “Forgive me, in all this excitement, I quite forgot my manners. This strapping young man is Corporal Khaki. I assure you that he will make a fine addition to your party, if you’ll have him,”
One large hand clapped down on the shoulder of the uniformed man, but the soldier barely seemed to react to the movement, simply watching on from behind the simple white opera mask that he wore. He was oddly silent, almost like the servants.
Debora eyed the coachmen. Professor Green was going to discipline them. Why when they were so obedient? Her mind flashed to the man’s body left in her office. He had come from these woods. He might have been a servant. And his horrible wound, had he too been disciplined?
“Corporal Khaki, by all means.” Debora gestured toward the Hall. There was no way to decline without raising suspicion, and the man might be just another guest.
Her morbid curiosity and a building worry made Debora look over her shoulder back at Professor Green and try to catch a glimpse of the reprimand. Instead, she only found herself looking into a pair of green eyes. Professor Green was watching her.
He had not moved towards the coachmen, he was simply standing there. Watching her. Professor Green smiled widely, holding his cane up theatrically as he nodded towards Debora, waiting for her to turn back.
“Well? Shall we?” It was Genie’s enthusiastic voice that made her break her gaze and Debora turned fully to face the hall. What the following hours held for her, she could not say, but any lingering hope of a smooth night was quickly fading.
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