Then Cassidy was granted a short period of solitude, during which she crumbled the biscuits to a fine powder on the silver tray. After half an hour the maid returned and curtsied in the doorway.
“Please come with me, miss,” she said.
“In this?” Cassidy said, wriggling her bare toes under the hem of the robe.
“Yes, miss.”
The hairs on the back of Cassidy’s neck prickled as she followed the maid into the corridor. She was very glad when they encountered Isabelle halfway to the stairs. Isabelle looked at Cassidy’s clothing, or lack of it, in some surprise.
“I was just coming to see you,” she said. “Has there been some difficulty with your gowns?”
“No,” Cassidy said. “The maid told me to wear this.” She thought of all the things she wanted to discuss with her friend and recognized that. it was not the time or the place. “Something strange is happening, Isabelle.”
Without a word the maid slipped away, leaving them alone. Isabelle frowned. “I’d noticed that the servants are behaving oddly,” she said. “Did the maid say anything about an initiation?”
“She did talk about a ceremony. Do you know what’s going on?”
“Not yet, but I should very much like to learn.”
If Rowena knew, she hadn’t so much as mentioned it. “I know who could tell us,” Cassidy said. “If we can find Quentin…”
They found Quentin leaning on the balustrade at the top of the stairs, looking down into the entrance hall. Instead of his usual dapper coat, waistcoat and trousers, he wore a robe identical to Cassidy’s, in the same shades of red and silver.
He straightened as they approached, and bowed. “Ah, Mrs. Smith, Cassidy. Delightful to see you again.” He gave Isabelle a wry smile. “You seem a trifle confused by our peculiar apparel, Mrs. Smith. I gather you weren’t invited to our quaint little ritual?”
“The maid mentioned a ceremony,” Cassidy said, “but we don’t know what it is.”
Quentin tsked softly. “My brother seems to have some difficulty in keeping you informed, Cousin. Tonight is really for your benefit, though there are the two new servants. Wouldn’t want them running about loose and unaccounted for, would we?”
“Can’t you see that you’re only confusing her more, Quentin?”
Rowena came out of the shadows to join them, dressed in yet another red and silver robe. Her golden hair, like Cassidy’s, spilled long and loose at her back. Her face was very pale, and she wouldn’t meet Cassidy’s eyes. “Let her learn for herself what we truly are.” She turned to Isabelle, her tone changing to frigid politeness. “Mrs. Smith, I apologize for the inconvenience. If you would be so kind as to wait in your room, I shall have refreshments sent up to you as soon as possible.”
Isabelle didn’t move. “I am here at Greyburn as Cassidy’s friend. If something is wrong—”
“All is exactly as it should be.”
Cassidy spun around. Quentin, Rowena, and Isabelle turned toward the deep, commanding voice.
Braden stopped a few steps from the top of the stairs, Aynsley just behind him. He was barefooted like Cassidy and the twins, dressed just as they were, but he seemed more imposing than ever. His heavy robe swept the stairs, splendid and barbaric, giving him the look of an ancient king.
“This is none of your concern, Mrs. Smith,” he said. “You will kindly remain in your room. Aynsley, escort Mrs. Smith and then return to the Great Hall.”
Isabelle might have argued with Rowena, but the earl of Greyburn was not to be disobeyed. She cast a troubled glance at Cassidy.
“Don’t worry,” Cassidy whispered. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
Even Aynsley’s usual dignity seemed shrunken as he bowed stiffly to Mrs. Smith and gestured her toward the guest wing. Braden waited until they were out of sight before he started down the stairs. Quentin went next, followed by Rowena, leaving Cassidy to bring up the rear.
The house was eerily silent. Absent was the usual coming and going of servants, the constant sense of activity just around the corner; instead, the entrance hall was empty, and the feeble lamps left much of the room in shadow.