Chapter 10 So Many Louis The Fourteenths

THE MANSION HAD BEEN BUILT at the end of the last century and was certainly one of the most prestigious and expensive private residences in Sydney, set as it was on harbour-front acreage and requiring more than a few servants to maintain the place in its full glory.

Jeffrey cruised the Rolls along at a sedate pace. He suddenly cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder to draw Vivienne's attention.

'May I say, Miss Vivienne, how very pleased I am that you're coming home at last. Even if it is only for tonight.'

'Thank you, Jeffrey. But it doesn't really mean anything, you know.'

'It's been a long time,' he said with a note of sadness. 'Maybe I shouldn't say this... I know you've got reason to be hard on your father, Miss Vivienne, but... he's getting on in years. You shouldn't forget that. Better to make your peace with him before... well, before anything happens.'

Vivienne frowned over the implications of the chauffeur's advice, knowing it was well-meant. 'Is there something wrong with my father, Jeffrey?'

'Now I didn't say that, Miss Vivienne,' he answered hurriedly. 'I just know how pleased he is about you coming to Huntingdon. I hope you have a good time tonight. Maybe you'll want to come back soon.'

'Maybe,' she said noncommittally.

The chauffeur fell silent again and Vivienne mused over what he had said. Her father was only fifty-eight years old and still looked in his prime. She had at least another twenty years to 'make her peace with him', if she ever did.

Let him justify what he had done to her first, she thought bitterly. He had never even tried!

The Rolls turned into the arched gateway to Huntingdon and slowed to a crawl as it followed other cars ahead of it. Guests were arriving in a steady stream. The entrance portico was supported by massive columns which rose majestically to the second storey.The house looked more like a museum than a home, Vivienne thought, and she was glad she didn't live in it.

The Rolls pulled up at the front steps. A car attendant opened her door and helped her out. The guests ahead of her turned to look back and stared quizzically at her before proceeding into the reception foyer. Vivienne smiled to herself, sure that her identity could not be probed. She joined the line being greeted by a sheikh, all too obviously Sir Gabriel Carter, who had a harem girl positioned on one side of him and Madame Pompadour on the other. Not even her father recognised her. He glanced down at the invitation card she handed him.

'You know why I'm here,' she said quickly and quietly, recalling the chauffeur's surmise that her father would want to parade her around. 'I wish to remain incognito, except to the family.'

'I have already ensured that you will. Adrian will get no help from me,' he said grimly, then smiled. 'The pearls look well on you.'

'Thank you.'

He touched Madame Pompadour's arm, drawing her attention from the previous party of arrivals to Vivienne. 'Aria ... this is our special guest.'

She offered a hand and a slightly stiff smile. 'Welcome to Huntingdon. I hope you enjoy the evening's festivities.' The words were consciously gracious. 'I hope to catch up with you after the unmasking at midnight.'

'Yes. Thank you,' Vivienne murmured, finding it oddly difficult to match her half-sister's composure.

Aria held on to her hand as she signalled a man in a Louis the Fourteenth costume. He sauntered over from the guests he had been welcoming. 'Xavier, you'll take our special guest in, won't you?' Aria said with pointed emphasis.

'Charmed,' he drawled, and sketched Vivienne an elaborate bow before offering his arm. He was as tall as their Father, but lean enough to look quite elegant in his period costume.

'Well, well, well,' he half chuckled as he drew Vivienne away from the reception line. 'You do the old man proud. If you weren't my blood relation, dear sis, I'd be chatting you up in no time flat.'

'You're not doing a bad job of it right now,' Vivienne retorted drily.

His mouth quivered at one corner. 'I've had my instructions, and it's more than my life's worth to offend you. I do depend on Daddy to keep me in the manner to which I've become accustomed to.'

'I thought you'd made a name for yourself as a professional photographer?' Vivienne queried.

He laughed. 'A part-time hobby. My profession is strictly that of a playboy. I could never measure up to dear Papa, so I turned my back on the neurosis of trying and failing miserably. It's much more enjoyable for me to spend the money he enjoys making.'

'I see,' Vivienne murmured, barely keeping her contempt for his attitude out of her voice.

'Do you, my lovely?' he mocked. 'Do you see where you fit into the grand design?'

She didn't know what grand design he was talking about, but Vivienne was not about to admit that to her feckless half-brother. It was perfectly obvious that her Father had both Aria and Xavier tied to his will because of his wealth, but not her. Never her!

'I have my own design, Xavier,' she said in careless disdain.

'Fascinating,' he drawled. 'However, the plan tonight is for me to whirl you on to the ballroom floor, trot the light fantastic with you until you've had the chance to look over the company, then leave you to your own devices. If that does not meet with your approval, please give me your instructions. I am bidden to do your pleasure.'

'Can you dance well?' Vivienne asked.

'One of the arts a playboy must practise regularly,' he retorted with mock solemnity.

'Then I shall enjoy dancing with you. And thank you, Xavier. I'll try not to tread on your toes.'

'Splendid!' he said, and led her into a ballroom that was unbelievably huge and opulent. It had to be something like thirty metres square, with glass doors at the far end that led onto a vast patio which overlooked the harbour. Fabulous chandeliers hung from the ceiling which was two storeys high, and a balcony ran all around the first floor, overlooking the ballroom below. A magnificent staircase led down from two sides, joined at a central landing, then provided an entrance to the room that was marvellously theatrical.

Xavier gestured towards it. 'For the ladies' powder room you take the right-hand staircase.'

'Thank you,' Vivienne murmured.

The dance-band-set up at the opposite side of the room to the staircase-was playing a jazz-waltz, and Xavier swept her around the parquet floor with a lightness of foot that she found very enjoyable. There were many couples dancing and Vivienne carefully eyed every man that passed by, but not one of them was Adrian.

'This music is for the older generation,' Xavier remarked drily. 'Another band takes over at eleven, and then we'll have a real beat to hot things up.' His voice dropped to an exasperated mutter. 'Damn! Another one.'

'What's the matter?' Vivienne asked.

He grimaced. 'I do prefer to be an original. We now have three Louis the Fourteenths: me, Aria's intended for the matrimonial merry-go-round, and some other dog who's just walked in.'

Vivienne smiled to herself, hardly glancing at the newcomer. One thing was certain. Adrian Blackwood would make sure he was an original. But one hour passed into another and Vivienne could not spot him anywhere.

She danced with several men, and in between dances she casually skirted the whole company of guests in the ballroom and out on the patio, but was completely frustrated in her search. And Xavier undoubtedly was even more peeved, since the number of Louis the Fourteenths had grown to at least half a dozen. One of them was sporting a flashy fleur-de-lis brooch in his cravat, an extra nicety that Xavier probably wished he had thought of to make himself more distinctive, even if the jewellery was made of paste.

Adrian had to be deliberately leaving his arrival late, just to tantalise her. Vivienne decided to make for the powder-room to re-check her appearance. She rearranged her hair then wandered back out to the staircase, pausing at the top step to look down over the crowd. But she save no one new among the revellers below.

The harem girl was still clinging to her Father's side.., had done so all night. Vivienne concluded that she was Tammy Gardner, her father's current mistress who had held his favour for over two years now, longer than most. Vivienne caught herself wondering how long her mother had lasted, and instantly clamped down on the thought.

Where the devil was Adrian? She recalled her father saying that Adrian Blackwood played to no rule, but Vivienne's patience was running out. She decided to give him a bit of his own medicine, and instead of returning to the ballroom she walked over to the doors that led out to a huge open balcony which obviously roofed the patio below.

The breeze off the harbour was very pleasant. She wished she could take her mask off but didn't dare risk it. She couldn't give Adrian that advantage ... if he came looking for her. He had to be here somewhere. But in what guise? He always played with hidden cards, her father had said.

Hidden was the key word. Somehow Adrian was hiding his identity from her. The creaking of a chair startled her and she swung around. One of the Louis the Fourteenths-- Xavier? rose lazily from a cane table setting in the far shadows of the balcony.

'I've been waiting for you, Vivienne.'

Adrian's voice! Vivienne was speechless with shock as he strolled forward, his white smile gleaming beneath his mask.

'And I now claim victory,' he said with taunting satisfaction.