LAMONT GLANCED AT Margo. She didn’t even blink. Behind her mask, her eyes were as cool as ice.
Lamont stepped aside, lowering the brim of his hat. He moved quickly toward the other end of the room. Gismonde clasped Margo’s hand lightly in his at shoulder level. His other hand came to rest gently against the center of her back. Gismonde bent his knees, lifted onto his toes, and wheeled Margo expertly across the floor as other couples moved to the perimeter.
Lamont worked his way behind the circle of guests, trying his best to blend in. He was sweating a little under his mask and the wool scarf began to itch his neck. As the string music soared, Gismonde led Margo in a series of slow, sweeping turns.
“Have we met?” he asked.
“I’m just another face in the crowd,” said Margo.
“Your dress is lovely,” said Gismonde, pulling away slightly to let his gaze run from Margo’s neck to her ankles and back again.
“But my jewels are fake,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” said Gismonde softly. “I’ll never tell. Besides, everybody here is pretending, are they not?”
“And what are you pretending, Mr. World President?” asked Margo.
Gismonde smiled and leaned in close to her.
“I’m pretending that I’m still young,” he whispered.
Margo felt someone beside her. A mask in the shape of a beak was almost brushing her arm.
“Mr. World President,” came a deep voice from beneath the mask. “My apologies.”
Gismonde pulled away and gave Margo a small bow.
“To be continued?” he said.
“Of course,” said Margo.
Gismonde looked directly into her eyes, as if the mask weren’t even there.
“Until we meet again,” he said. “Miss Lane.”
A shiver shot through her. Gismonde turned on his heel and followed the man with the beak to the far corner of the room. The man with the beak beckoned a guard. That guard beckoned two others.
Suddenly Margo felt Lamont over her shoulder, his lips close to her ear.
“Do you remember the powder room wall?” he whispered.
“I do,” she said.
“I’ll meet you outside.”
Margo slipped quickly through the crowd and into an alcove off the main hall. She opened the door to an elegant powder room with two marble sinks and an enclosed toilet stall. A velvet settee sat against one wall.
Back in the foyer, the guards advanced. Lamont backed into the crowd.
He needed to buy some time. Just a little.
Margo darted to the right-hand sink. She reached below the marble bowl and found a hidden metal lever, just as she remembered. She yanked the lever up, hard. There was a loud snap as the handle broke off in her hand. Margo moved quickly to a section of tile wall at the far side of the powder room. She pressed on it, then pounded. But the wall did not move.
Margo heard a knock on the powder room door. The door opened. A woman in a red satin dress and an elaborate mask slipped in.
“Do you mind?” the woman said, pointing toward the stall. “Too much champagne!” Margo quickly assessed the woman’s height and size. Perfect.
“My goodness,” said Margo softly. “I love your dress.”