On the drive to...wherever we were going, Mr. Holmes explained that there would be several members of parliament at the dinner. Presumably, Herr Meyer was seeking to strengthen ties between Bohemia and Britain. Just the sort of thing a nobleman who made up a court would do when visiting a foreign city.
And yet...
"If he were merely trying to strengthen ties, why did he wait so long to host this party?" I asked. "Or did he already meet with anyone since he came to London?"
Mr. Holmes glanced at me. "He went to dinner at two houses when he first arrived in London four weeks ago. After that, he has remained secluded and has not gone out."
"Secluded because he was occupied with the planning of how to capture my parents?" And myself.
"I abhor making conjectures when there is no evidence, but it seems likely."
No evidence. Did Mr. Holmes hope that such evidence would come to light in the rented home of Herr Meyer? Or was he hoping the Bohemian nobleman would give himself away once he saw me?
"Is there any particular role I should play this evening?" I asked, making sure my gloves were smooth. Beneath the fabric, my palms felt damp and clammy. Nerves, I supposed, from the uncertainty of the whole thing.
"I think not."
Again, I had to wonder why he had thought to bring me along with him at all. Was I to be the bait in a trap to draw Herr Meyer into revealing himself?
Since I couldn't think of anything else to ask, I fell silent. I drummed the fingers of my right hand on my lap. When she heard everything I had been through, I had every certainty Mum would say it was worthy of any plot played out on the stage.
****
There was a cold wind when I stepped out of the hansom, and I realized a thick fog had begun to roll in. "It is evenings like this that I can believe Jack the Ripper was able to terrorize London not so long ago," I said, glancing up at Mr. Holmes. Had he helped Scotland Yard at the time?
As curious as I was, I didn't dare ask.
"The fog has kept many men hidden from the law," Mr. Holmes said. He offered his arm to me and I placed my hand on his elbow. We approached the front of the sizable house, falling in behind another couple.
I couldn't resist trying to peer up at the house we were approaching. In my exploration of London, I hadn't ventured into the wealthier neighborhoods often, so I didn't recognize the stone structure. I didn't know where in London I was. Did it even matter?
Yes. If I had to run for my life—again—I wanted to know where to go. Disappearing into the fog might sound like a good way to escape but I had no desire to get lost myself.
A stiff butler granted us entry and took my cloak. Herr Meyer was not waiting to greet each guest with a hostess as was usual. Were we late and he had gone to join his other guests? I glanced at Mr. Holmes and his inscrutable expression.
On second thought, perhaps we had arrived exactly when Mr. Holmes had intended for there was no one to object to my entry.
The townhouse seemed filled as we ventured closer to the ballroom. It reminded me of when I had gone with Mum to her private recitals. I had always watched from above as the grand ladies and fine gentlemen mingled together and then listened in awe to Mum's spectacular singing.
To be among the crowd was something else altogether.
There was a kind of thrill to know that I was in disguise and this crowd of people didn't know it. I had to bite my cheek to keep from grinning too wide.
As I was gazing around, Mr. Holmes slipped free of my hand. When I turned, I caught sight of him moving through the crowd. Clearly, he didn't need me. So I continued to examine the company I found myself in. I knew from Mr. Holmes that many of these gentlemen had roles in the government. Since I hardly found politics interesting, I had no idea who they were. They thought highly enough of themselves.
And many of these gentlemen were irritated.
As I strolled along the edge of the room, it was an emotion I saw on more faces than not. That, and confusion. Why?
Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to discover the answer. I did my best not to tug at the bodice of my dress. Now that I was in company, it felt too low on my chest. Not that I had much to reveal and when I'd first put it on it hadn't felt revealing at all. Was it because I felt so many eyes on me?
Several young men approached to beg my hand for a dance and were reluctant to accept my refusal. Once I was tempted to draw a pin and make my point clear. Thankfully, when Mr. Holmes returned to my side that became unnecessary and the young man slunk away without another word.
"Herr Meyer has been delayed," Mr. Holmes informed me, keeping his eyes on the room. "He was not here to greet his guests."
There was my answer. "That seems a bit rude given that it is his event and he invited everyone here." One of the guests caught my eye. I tried to study him without actually staring at him. His tall frame was familiar but I couldn't immediately place him.
"You've seen Mr. Ware." There was no question in Mr. Holmes' voice.
"If you mean the tall man across the room who has just looked at me, then yes."
With a snap of my wrist, I unfurled my fan and waved it languidly in front of my face. As far as concealing my face, it was a poor attempt but I felt as though I had to do something. Mr. Ware? Oh, yes. He had accompanied Herr Meyer to Baker Street to enlist the detective's help in locating me.
"What are the odds of Mr. Ware or Herr Meyer acting against me while I am here?" It was a question I should have asked earlier but hadn't thought of it. What would Mr. Holmes infer from the lapse on my part?
"Nothing. It would end badly for them and they know it."
They know it? I glanced around the room at all the government representatives. I suppose they were the last witnesses someone would want. Fortunately, Mr. Ware had not given any indication that he recognized me, but caution would be the best course of action.
"If you will excuse me, I intend to learn what I can."
Raising an eyebrow, I nodded my understanding. Had he returned to my side simply to tell me Meyer wasn't there and that Mr. Ware would not attempt anything? "I think I can handle myself."
A brief smile curved Mr. Holmes' lips before he set off. He soon vanished back into the crowd. I continued my observation of the room. The room was hotter than I had expected, and a drop of sweat ran down my neck.
"Irene Adler? You're here?" An incredulous voice asked from my right. When I turned, I found a woman staring at me. She had to be my mother's age, perhaps a bit older. Gray hair streaked her brown hair but she held herself with dignity. "Oh, no. Forgive me. My mistake."
"You know my mother?" I asked impulsively.
"Irene has a daughter?" She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Your mother and I are old friends. I was privileged to share the stage with her when we both were new to the theater. I am Lady Trestle."
Another actress who had raised her station in life. "I'm delighted to meet you," I said with a curtsy. "I am Aida."
"This is remarkable," Lady Trestle said, shaking her head. "I had no idea Irene had a child at all. Though it has been years since I last saw her. This is...My goodness, I never expected this."
Any thought of questioning her died away. If she hadn't seen Mum in several years, there was little chance she could help now. "I'm sure she would be happy to see you sometime," I said, uncertain what I should say next. "She's told me a little about what it was like on the stage."
"She was smart to get out as soon as she could."
But I had seen that Mum regretted leaving the stage. She had enjoyed singing and taking the stage in front of an audience. It was why she would do private performances in aristocratic homes. "I suppose every path in life has pros and cons."
Lady Trestle raised an eyebrow. "Getting the attention of a monarch has no cons."
The blunt statement startled me. Why would she say that? "Oh?" was my oh-so-intelligent response.
"You don't think the world doesn't know what she did? Anyone who has read the story knows she became King Wilhelm's mistress while she was in Bohemia. She was a fool to leave it all behind."
My stomach twisted. "Perhaps she realized that there are other things more important in life than a title." Mother had married a barrister, for crying out loud. Why did that little detail of the story seem to be forgotten?
"She always did have a romantic streak in her," Lady Trestle said with a derisive snort. "I wonder if she's grown out of that."
Had she forgotten who she was speaking to? Why was she saying this to me? "I'll be sure to ask her the next time I see her."
A flush stained her cheeks. "Forgive me.," she said quickly. "Perhaps I still feel our rivalry after all these years."
I gave a nod, though I didn't truly understand. After so long, did Lady Trestle still resent my mother's success? Why? Hadn't she married her own title? In any event, it seemed I would not learn anything from her.
Unless...
"I suppose you must have heard my mother singing at some point in the last year?"
The lady gave a start. "No. I mean. Yes, I did. A few months ago." She unfurled her fan with a snap and began to wave it furiously. I doubted it was merely the heat making her uncomfortable. "I hardly know why you would say such a thing. What importance could it have?"
"It was simply an observation."
Dr. Watson's story had hinted at my mother being deceased. It had added a note of tragic romance to the story. I hadn't paused to wonder how the king had come to discover her alive and well.
And once he knew her alive, it would not have taken long for the king to discover that Irene Adler Norton had a daughter.
"Odd," I commented. "I thought you'd just said it had been years since you had seen my mother."
Lady Trestle's cheeks flushed an even darker hue. "A mistake on my part," she said stiffly.
She'd said, "You're here?" just minutes previous. Not just surprise at the thought of seeing my mother, but surprise that Mum would be here. In London. In this house.
"If you will excuse me," she said, before I could think of a way to question her further. She turned on her heel and strode away at a fast pace.
I took one step after her, reluctant to allow her to leave without learning what she knew about the situation. "Miss Norton." My way was blocked by someone. I lifted my gaze and my breath caught in my throat. Mr. Ware. "I believe this is our dance."
He'd seen me. He knew who I was. He was asking me to dance? No, not asking. Telling me. Why? Why hadn't he called for his goons?
There was only one way to find out. "Of course," I said with a smile. I placed my gloved hand in his and allowed him to lead me onto the dance floor.
"I must say this is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one," he said as the strains of a waltz began. "I didn't think you had been invited to tonight's gathering."
His hand at my waist, he pulled me a little too close for comfort. His grip on my right hand was too tight. Despite my discomfort, I continued to smile. "Wasn't I? I'd thought you and your friends wished to have me with you. Here I have presented myself in my very best dress for the occasion."
"I think you must be mistaken." His eyes shifted to the other dancers. Did he worry we would be overheard? What game was he playing?
"Is Herr Meyer going to join us or will he be delayed all evening?" I asked, casting my gaze around the room. "I do hope it was not a serious matter."
"Nothing that could not be dealt with easily," he said smoothly. "A man of his station is frequently called upon to deal with little issues that might be embarrassing to others. And when they turn up, he must be swift about handling them."
An issue such as a potential scandal regarding the leader of a country, perhaps? "It sounds tedious." Almost as tedious as dancing the waltz with someone I did not trust.
"But necessary."
"You could have simply asked," I said, hoping a blunt statement might startle him into revealing something. Anything to make this exercise worth my time.
It was a vain hope. Mr. Ware merely raised an eyebrow. "Asked? I don't know what you mean," he said smoothly. The lie came too easily.
I, however, was tired of the prevarication. "You could have asked who my father was."
"Miss Norton, you really are amusing." Mr. Ware spun me around, following the path of the other dancers. We were, I noticed, remaining on the edge of the dance floor. "I wish I had the answers you were seeking."
I gritted my teeth. Where was Mr. Holmes? "Somehow, I don't believe you," I said sweetly. "You did visit Lynbrook Manor not so long ago, though, did you not?"
He faltered just for a split second. "Is that what your butler informed you? You know older men can sometimes be mistaken by appearances and mishear names."
"How do you know my family's butler is older, Mr. Ware?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I wanted to smile at the small bit of information he'd just given to me but I restrained myself. "It could be that we have a younger butler, you know. Perhaps a footman who is eager to advance his position."
"Ah. A guess on my part. You have a young butler?"
"Oh, I didn't say that." I did smile at him. "I was simply making a point."
His jaw muscle clenched. He spun me once again, only this time we didn't stay in the ballroom. He forced me through a small door I hadn't noticed before. "For an unimportant thing, you've become a nuisance, Miss Norton."