Mr. Sarvol continued before the chaperone offered any objections. “And while the game in some of its incarnations does involve touching, it can be played just as easily using a feather, so no one need ever touch anyone else in any way.”
Quite to Gillian’s awe—and everyone else’s, she’d wager—Mme Dupuis did not immediately object. She was listening to Mr. Sarvol quite intently.
“This game is one my mother chooses when she has houseguests,” Mr. Sarvol continued, “and I assure you she is an adherent to the strictest of propriety. Nothing the least untoward will ever occur at any event for which she is hostess. She is known for that.”
Gillian met Charlie’s and Artemis’s eyes, wondering how much of this was a Banbury tale. Neither seemed to know.
“While this game involves switching chairs,” Mr. Sarvol said, “it is best accomplished in a calm, sedate, and careful manner. No one is likely to bump into one another or even inadvertently brush up against another person. And, again, what little touching does occur can be accomplished entirely with the feather.”
“There is nothing truly inappropriate in wielding a feather,” Mme Dupuis said. Candlelight glinted off her gold silk gown, her layers of gold-and-amber jewelry, her tall golden turban, the many rings on her fingers. If she continued dressing as she did, Charlie and Artemis could save a fortune in candles, as she would almost serve as a candelabra herself.
“We, of course, depend upon your judgment,” Mr. Sarvol said.
Artemis managed to hide most of the laughter in her expression. Charlie turned away because he was not so skilled. No one in this room trusted the judgment of the overly stuffy chaperone. Mr. Sarvol, though, had taken the lay of the land and knew how to accomplish what needed to be done. And he was doing it without embarrassing anyone.
Gillian found that both reassuring and worrisome. He was helping them navigate an uncomfortable situation but was also showing himself able and willing to assume a facade.
“I have deemed this an appropriate game for the evening.” Mme Dupuis offered the tiniest of nods, folded her hands on her lap, and looked at all of them down her nose.
Mr. Sarvol turned back to the group. The chaperone could not see his face, which was likely why he allowed a grin of absolute triumph to emerge. When he spoke, though, his tone was sedate and respectful. “I do believe we have found a game we needn’t be ashamed of.”
Everyone followed his lead and acted as though they were tremendously grateful to have been saved from their previous scandalous ideas, which, of course, had not been the least scandalous.
“I wish she were not so difficult,” Lisette whispered, misery in her tone.
“Having you here is well worth enduring her presence,” Gillian assured her.
“A few more days of ‘enduring’ her and you will change your mind.” Lisette appeared entirely in earnest but also smiled genuinely.
“I doubt that.”
Mr. Sarvol sat in the chair on Gillian’s other side. She hadn’t been expecting that, and she didn’t at all know how to respond. He smelled wonderful, of lavender mixed with citrus, and he was very handsome. Both details made his nearness not at all unpleasant. But he also made her mind spin a bit and her heart pound with what felt like nervousness. She didn’t like not knowing why he affected her the way he did.
The rest of the gathering had obtained chairs from the dining room and entryway and the few easily moved chairs in thesitting room. All were being placed in a circle. A scarf had been obtained from somewhere.
“I’ve played gruff bluff,” Artemis said to them all. “It is really a simple game but a great deal of fun. And, with the adjustments Mr. Sarvol suggested, quite appropriate.” Somehow the group managed not to laugh while Artemis played the role of painfully proper hostess. “All but one of us will sit in the chairs in the circle. The remaining one will stand in the middle and cover his or her eyes with a scarf. The feather will be used to seek the location of a person in the circle. Once discovered, the one with the scarf about his or her eyes will have three yes-or-no questions through which to discover the identity of the person who has been found. That person, though, is charged with answering whilst disguising his or her voice. If the answer-giver is not correctly identified, the guesser returns to the center of the circle, everyone switches seats, and the game begins anew. Should the guess be accurate, the one who was discovered then becomes the guesser.”
It was a simple enough game. Gillian could easily imagine how, without Mme Dupuis present, the game could grow a little bit rowdy. Gillian didn’t overly mind that it had been altered to be a bit more sedate; she considered herself quick-witted but knew herself to be anything but quick-footed.
Good sport that he was, Charlie agreed to be the first guesser. He stood in the middle of the circle, and Duke tied the scarf around his eyes. Everyone else moved, demurely and carefully—to great comedic effect on Toss’s part, eliciting a laugh from Daria—to the chairs around the circle. Charlie wandered about a bit, swiping around with his feather until it happened upon the very person who had secured the scarf.
“Are you a friend?” Charlie asked.
Duke answered with a grunt that was easily interpreted as a yes and just as easily identified as coming from him. His voice was pitched far lower than anyone else present.
“Bad luck, Duke,” Charlie said. “None of our voices could emerge that low even if we tried. Probablyespeciallyif we tried.”
The taunting was good-natured, and Duke didn’t seem truly upset about it, though his expression gave away almost nothing. Gillian well remembered Charlie’s explanation that Duke could come across as intimidating and even angry, though he was neither. She chose not to worry.
When Duke’s feather found Daria, she could not keep herself from laughing in her attempt even before he asked the question. Duke certainly knew he had stumbled upon one of the ladies.
“Have you dark hair?” he asked.
Her voice as squeaky as a mouse’s, she said, “No,” and then burst out laughing again.
Duke stood in silence for a moment. Only the lower half of his face was visible beneath the scarf, but it was easy to see he was pondering. After a long moment, which was punctuated by Daria’s giggles and the rest of the group’s responding laughter, he said, “Miss Mullins.”
“How did you guess?” Fennel asked. “You can’t possibly know their voices that well already.”