Black Diaries

56. Trial Run

This is not happening! This simply cannot be happening!

That's what my common sense was telling me. But common sense probably only works with humble commoners, such as myself. It doesn't apply when you're entering the Grandstand at Ascot Racecourse beside Lord Christopher Conrad Damn The Rest Of His Middle Names Farleigh, 7th Baron Farleigh.

Why beside? Why did he insist on that? Why not after him? Why not an hour or two after him?

People all around, who had been chatting and laughing, slowly fell quiet and turned to look our way. Gentlemen raised their eyebrows. Ladies' eyes widened. And not because of my stunningly handsome companion.

"Take off your bloody hat!" Lord Farleigh hissed at me out of the corner of his mouth.

"Why?"

"Because it is... not suitable."

"Why not?" I looked around at the other women. They were all wearing hats. Compared to some of their headgear, mine was actually pretty tame. Well... relatively. Slightly. "I tried my best to fit in."

"Yes, I know. You tried. That's the problem."

"Why? What's wrong with it? It may be a bit heavy and big, but—"

"A bit?"

"Look, like I said, I wanted to fit in! That woman over there has a whole bouquet of flowers on her hat! And that one over there is wearing something that looks like a UFO."

"I know."

Raising my chin, I readjusted my hat. It wobbled dangerously, and I had to grab it to prevent making fruit salad on the floor. "So what," I demanded "is wrong with a pineapple?"

"Nothing—on Toast Hawaii. On year head, Miss McKinney, that is an entirely different matter."

"That woman over there is wearing apples! And that one a coconut!"

"Yes, I know. But do you know what the difference is?"

"What?"

"Their apples and coconut were put on their hats by world-class hat designers in Saville Row. Your pineapple was glued onto an old straw hat by yourself."

"They can't know that!"

"Trust me, they know."

"Some of the stuff they're wearing looks at least as freaky!"

"I do not think, Miss McKinney, that the editors of Cosmopolitan would agree with you on that."

"Hmph."

Readjusting my pineapple again, I started forward, away from him and past the gawking women. "Where is it we're going?"

"My private box, which is, incidentally, the other way."

"Hmph!"

Whirling around again, I hurried to catch up. On my way up to the box, I drew the gazes of all men and women around me. I would have liked to say the gazes were admiring, but, in all probability, they were just pineappling. Finally, we reached a set of large glass double-doors. Through the glass, I could see a luxurious balcony with a table and plush chairs. So this, apparently, was the famous private box of his fabulous Lordship. Beyond, the racecourse stretched out far and wide. The horses were already being led out onto the track. Between two brown mounts, I caught a glimpse of Silver Star.

"There he is! Do you see?"

"Yes." There was a note in his voice... If I hadn't known better, I would have said it was genuine feeling. Glancing to the side I saw that there was unusual emotion flaring in his steel-blue eyes. "Let's get outside so we can see better."