Winterly (Dark Creatures Book 1), стр. 38

“Uncle,” said Emma, pulling her spectacles off to rub her eyes, “shall we perhaps go to Vauxhall Gardens tomorrow night?”

Milli whirled around, all astonishment.

Uncle Haywood looked up from his book. “Vauxhall? That doesn’t seem like the sort of place you’d care to go to, Emma.”

“Is it odd for a woman to be taking a bit more of an interest in society?” Emma lifted her shoulder dispassionately, the gesture appearing a little too contrived to Milli.

Their uncle’s chest rumbled with something akin to amusement. “No, indeed.”

“And that is the first sensible idea you’ve had all season, Emma.” Milli clapped her hands and danced around the room towards her uncle. “Oh, we must take a boat across the Thames and enter by the Water Gate. I read in La Belle Assemblée that Lord Lovegrove went by boat specifically to see Madame Saqui.” Lord, Milli could already see herself arriving by boat in her yellow crape, and Mr. Valko would be there, of course, and their gazes would lock beneath the fireworks…

“Who on earth is Madame Saqui?” asked her uncle, looking helplessly at his wife.

Milli rolled her eyes. “The tight-rope dancer, of course. What if we should see a tiger! Can you only imagine?”

“I’m sure I cannot,” Emma muttered.

“Oh, Uncle,” said Milli, “we simply must go by boat.”

“Must we?”

“Ay, we must.”

“I hear,” said Emma, “that there are dead bodies and all manner of ordure floating about in the Thames at any given moment.”

“Oh, Emma,” said their aunt with a nervous laugh, “do try not to be so morbid.”

Milli paused, mid-pirouette. “Dead bodies in the Thames?” Well, that was hardly romantic. “Well, then we had better go by carriage, and I think we ought to have supper there as well.”

Uncle Haywood shook his head. “You shall not see me paying a shilling for a slice of ham thin enough to see through. No, Milli, we had much better dine early and have a far more superior supper here at home before going out.”

“And,” said Emma, speaking low so that only Milli could hear her, “we should not like to have our appetites ruined by death and ordure.”

Milli snickered and then repaired to her bedroom to inspect her yellow crape.

At nine o’clock the following evening the Haywood carriage turned into Kennington Lane. Once the requisite three-and-sixpence per admission was defrayed, they entered through the turnstile and directly into the Grand Walk. Dusk had already settled in and the trees were festooned with variegated lamps and colored glass. The colonnaded supper-boxes were crowded with raucous diners, the tables adorned with white napery, and the liveried waiters were scurrying back and forth with laden meat platters, salads, and various potations.

There were no tigers to be seen, however. Only a few monkeys. But that was all right, for Milli had come here to be captivated by the splendor of promenading, handsome couples and to marvel at the gowns, the latest hairstyles, the vibrant headdresses, and the stunning jewelry. It was Milli’s opinion that no one could behold such resplendence and remain unaffected by it, so she glanced around, eager to see that her family was also suitably impressed; they were not.

Aunt and Uncle Haywood were talking to some acquaintances—a Mr. Cruikshank and his wife, if she was not mistaken—and Emma’s attention was drawn to a quieter part of the grove, at the other end of the Orchestra and dancers, where a gentlemen and four ladies were gathered beside a marble angel. Milli gasped, recognizing Valko and Victoria immediately. The other three were unknown to her. Victoria and Valko were really quite distinct, so tall and elegant, even at this distance.

Milli snatched Emma’s hand. Sparing a brief glance for her guardians, she begged to be excused a moment, promising her aunt that they would return in time to see the Cascade. “Hulloa!” Milli cried, waving her hand as she flew past the dancers with her sister in tow.

“Must you gallop and bray like a runaway donkey?” asked Emma, digging her heels in. “You’re drawing attention to yourself.”

“That is the point.”

The cousins appeared surprised to see them, but waved back nonetheless.

“There,” said Emma, “they’ve seen you, now rein yourself in, for heaven’s sake.”

Her sister was right, she wouldn’t want Mr. Valko thinking her too eager, and thus the brakes were instantly applied. It gave her time to consider what she would say to him, and it gave her a moment to contemplate his interest in the other three ladies. The blonde one did seem awfully familiar, and awfully ill-disposed to fashion. Although Milli’s own sister’s tastes, with her stern glasses and décolletage all draped in gauze up to the throat, were no less unfortunate, poor thing.

Suddenly, it occurred to Milli where she’d seen the blonde. “Emma, is that Madame Strange, the crystal gazer? You know, that woman you nearly plowed over last month.”

“I believe you’re right.” Emma then began squinting through her glasses in so unbecoming a manner that it pained Milli to watch her; she hoped Mr. Valko hadn’t noticed. “The two other ladies,” said Emma, “are the De Grigori sisters. I met them at the Littérature Étrange exhibition. I think they must all three be sisters, for they look so much alike despite their contrasting hair.”

“Fascinating.” Milli’s interest was for Valko alone. But he, regrettably, looked not the least bit interested in her yellow crape. She was further disappointed when he and the three Strange sisters disappeared towards Lover’s Walk.

A crippling dismay beset her at once, for he had barely offered a farewell nod. Her only consolation was that Victoria seemed pleased to see them, bestowing her usual affectionate welcome of kisses and smiles. Victoria conveyed her cousin’s regrets, but he was obliged to escort their friends (it was inconceivable that they should even claim such tragically-attired friends) to another engagement. One to which they were already late. All the while the excuse was made, Milli’s underlip trembled and would not cease doing so even as