Beatrix unfolded the missive and scanned its contents quickly. Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth tightened as she read.
“Dear, is something amiss?” Lady Bosworth asked, leaning in and speaking in confidential tones even as her eyes lit up with lurid curiosity.
“No, no,” Beatrix responded, her mouth tilting in a strained smile. “Nothing serious. Jeremy has sent down his regrets. He is feeling a bit under the weather.”
“Oh, no, how sad!” Lady Bosworth exclaimed. “He shall miss all the fun.”
“Indeed. Now, what do you think about necklines? Surely they will become more modest next season, don’t you think?”
So, Mira thought, Jeremy was crying off. She wondered whether he was laying low because he had ended things with Bella and wished to avoid her, or whether he was staying behind to prepare for the elopement. Bella had not yet put in an appearance, and Mira was intrigued to see whether she would show up at all.
Before Mira could give Bella and Jeremy any further thought, Nicholas arrived. His entrance was met with the same sudden quiet as hers had been, but the conversation never resumed.
He swept the room with his aloof gaze until he settled on Mira. She offered him a shy smile. He inclined his head in response, and Mira thought she saw his shoulders relax a bit, but his expression was distant, noncommittal.
Bella flounced in behind Nicholas, looking like a dream in a gauzy white dress adorned with clusters of violets. Bella’s attention moved unerringly to Lady Beatrix, and the tension between the two fairly crackled. The tilt of Bella’s chin and the bounce in her stride as she made her way to her mother’s side were entirely unapologetic.
Lady Beatrix glared at Bella for a heartbeat longer, and then looked over her guests, subtle nods marking her count of heads. Apparently satisfied that everyone was present, she began herding guests out.
Although they were not going far, the ladies’ dainty slippers made walking difficult. Most of the house party guests piled into carriages to travel into Upper Bidwell and then double back across the moor to the circle of standing stones, although a few of the men—including Nicholas—chose to ride instead.
Mira rode with Kitty, George, and Bella in the family coach. Mira assumed the mood in the other carriages was more festive, but the Fitzhenrys were a solemn bunch. George sat silent as a mouse, toying with the buttons on his waistcoat, and only occasionally shooting a nervous glance at either Mira or Kitty. Bella pressed herself into her corner of the carriage, staring out the window, her face expressionless. She and her mother had obviously not yet made amends. Even Kitty was uncharacteristically quiet, and Mira wondered if her aunt, like George, was beginning to feel guilty about shuffling their niece off to a reputed murderer.
The somber mood of her family suited Mira well. She settled back against the squabs and allowed her mind to drift as she marshaled her energy for the evening to come. She did not know what the night held in store for her, but she knew she would need every resource at her disposal to survive it unscathed.
…
They heard and smelled the Midsummer festival long before they arrived. The aroma of roasting meats, the yeasty scent of ale, and woodsmoke tinged with burning herbs all permeated the cool night air, and the moors rang with music and raucous laughter.
As the coach ground to a halt, Mira looked out the window at their surroundings. Before the carriage a circle of tall stones stood, each easily twice as tall as the tallest man Mira had ever seen. The stones jutted out of the earth, straining into the night sky, and were it not for the symmetry of their formation, they would have appeared to be a natural part of the landscape.
The stone circle was lit by a massive bonfire and a ring of blazing torches in its center, the light as bright as daylight but hellish in its cast, throwing long dark dancing shadows in every direction. It was a London ball gone wickedly, monstrously mad. As Mira and her family cautiously left the protection of the carriage, she observed people dancing frenzied jigs, couples locked in lewd embraces, laughing men chasing squealing women in every direction, and everywhere the sultry beat of drums and the earthy perfume of ale made the very air vibrate with dark delight.