And at Opal Hill Roderigo Yrarier went over the list of those who would attend, noting the absence of young people and simmering at the insult offered to his family and his name.
Obermun bon Haunser had remembered his promise to Marjorie when he had recommended Admit Maukerden as her “secretary.” When she first got around to interviewing the tall, self-important individual, he told her that he knew every bon in every family and who the parents were and what the liaisons had been and who was in sympathy with and who out of sorts with whom. He expected, so he said, a private suite and a salary which made Rigo blink in surprise.
“I don’t trust him,” Marjorie told Rigo.
“Nor do I,” Rigo confessed. “But hire him anyhow. Assign him something to do and let’s see what he comes up with.”
After a little thought, Marjorie asked Admit to compile a file on those who would attend the reception, giving family connections and such personal information as might be helpful to new acquaintances in conducting conversation. He spent a great deal of time at it for one who supposedly knew them all. presenting the final work with a flourish.
Marjorie thanked him with a smile which conveyed nothing but ignorance and appreciation. She and Rigo then gave the file to Persun Pollut.
“Oh, my lame left leg.” Persun muttered. “That fool doesn’t know a cousin from an aunt or a bon Maukerden from a bon Bindersen.”
“Not accurate?” she queried sweetly.
“Except for the Obermums and Obermuns, there’s hardly a thing here that’s not plain wrong. He’d of done better guessing. If you’d done any introductions on the basis of this, the bons would have had your bones for supper.”
“Which would indicate either monumental stupidity or purposeful misinformation.” Rigo grinned through clenched teeth.
“He’s intelligent enough in his own interest,” Marjorie responded. “Then he was instructed to be useless,” Rigo said. “More than useless. Destructive. Which, I think, tells us all we need to know about him and a good bit more about them.”
Thereafter, Marjorie pretended to consult Admit Maukerden from time to time and Rigo amused himself by giving the man false information about the purpose of the embassy, waiting to see which parts of it would come back to him, in whatever guise, via the bons. Meantime, Persun corrected the file on the guests and went over it with Rigo’s trusted assistant, Andrea Chapelside. It was Persun who set down accurate details about the bons. “This one is more important than he looks,” he said. “This one is malicious and will misquote you.”
And it was Persun, dressed in servant’s livery, who was assigned to circulate among the guests to hear what he could hear. Admit Maukerden, splendidly costumed to fit his idea of his own importance, would be relegated to a post near the first surface from which he could announce the arrivals with a fine and completely spurious air of authority, separated by a thwarting distance from anything that might transpire in the rooms above him. Though Marjorie doubted that anything of consequence would happen, Rigo had faith that something of great importance would follow his enormous investment of time and attention.
The evening arrived. Aircars dropped swiftly to the gravel court to disgorge their bejeweled and ornamented riders, rising as swiftly to make room for those that followed. Marjorie and Stella, gowned as extravagantly as any of the bons—the dresses had been stitched by a whole family of Commons’ seamsters nominated by Roald Few—waited at the top of the stairs that the bons would have to ascend, Marjorie on Rigo’s arm, Stella on Tony’s.
Rigo had foreseen problems and had communicated them fully to the children. “They are not bringing anyone your age. They will not be so undiplomatic or ungracious as to exclude you from their attention, however. You may expect charm and flattery from some of them. Stella, some man or men. Tony, some woman or women. Be charming in return. Seem flattered. But do not be fooled! Do not lose your heads.”
Seeing Tony pale and Stella flush angrily, Marjorie had nodded agreement and said soothing words. She had been warned by Persun Pollut as well, who had heard it from a villager who had heard it from a cousin at bon Maukerden’s. “They want no real contact, Lady. They want no involvement. They have told off some of their family members to pay court to you and yours, but they will do it merely to keep you pleased with yourselves.”