Paul, sleek in his white tie, noticed every man looking at his date. Well, she was more than his date—he was wildly in love with her and didn’t mind telling her so.
She appeared cooler, but sooner or later Tazio would have to admit that she loved him, too.
The young couple fielded all the praise from people who knew that Tazio was responsible for the look of the evening.
Folly Steinhauser sported an emerald-and-diamond necklace with matching earrings and bracelet, which cost a hefty six hundred thousand dollars if one penny. Her husband, Ron, was by her side and engaged in an intense discussion with Marvin Lattimore. Ron’s gray pallor accentuated his age. He kept a grasp on Folly’s right hand with his left, but he couldn’t follow her eyes since he was talking business with Marvin. Folly could hardly keep her eyes off Marvin.
As for Penny Lattimore, she’d already ditched her husband to talk to Major Chris Huzcko, much to the annoyance of Elise Brennan, herself swathed in diamonds and sapphires.
The first couple Harry and Fair ran into were Marilyn and Urbie Nash. Marilyn’s white gown, pink ribbon wound through the bodice, wider pink ribbon as a sash at the waist, accentuated her good features.
“Stunning,” Harry complimented her after everyone’s initial greeting.
“We both clean up pretty good, don’t we?” Marilyn smiled.
“We’re waiting for the dancing so we can watch you and Urbie.”
The Nashes had taken up ballroom dancing, finding that it kept them in shape, plus they had such fun doing it.
They chatted for a few minutes more, mostly about Marilyn’s animal-rescue work, then moved on to other couples, as is customary in such circumstances.
Big Mim glided up, husband, Jim, in tow. “Harry, you’ve never looked so radiant.”
Fair gently lifted Big Mim’s right hand, brushing his lips over it. “Nor you.”
“Fair, you flirt.”
“Watch it, buddy.” Jim Sanburne, a working-class boy made good, glared with mock anger at Fair.
“We all envy you, Mayor.”
“Well, you don’t envy my job.” Jim laughed and slapped Fair on the back.
It had taken years for Big Mim to realize that the exceedingly masculine Jim would remain, fundamentally, a working-class man. She finally reached the point where she rather liked that. She kidded him that they were beauty and the beast. Jim, being Jim, asked who was whom?
Aunt Tally, silver-hound-handled cane in hand, had a date with a much younger man. Adolfo di Maso degli Albizzi was a count, although Italy no longer considered such titles. At eighty he looked dapper, and everyone called him Dolf.
“Children.” Aunt Tally waved her cane.
“My esteemed aunt wants your attention.” Big Mim smiled tightly as she nodded to Aunt Tally. “She’s on her second martini.”
“We’re safe until the third.” Harry kissed Big Mim, then Jim, on the cheek.
The two pushed through the resplendent crowd to the oldest couple there.
“Signora.” Dolf bowed low, then kissed Harry’s hand as Fair kissed Aunt Tally’s.
For good measure, Fair also kissed Aunt Tally on the cheek.
“A triumph.” Aunt Tally beamed.
“You, my sweet, are the triumph.” Dolf oozed Continental charm.
“Go on.” Tally lifted her cane ever so slightly. “Isn’t this extraordinary? I tell you… well, I’ll tell you two things. One, that Tazio Chappars has a gift, a true gift. It’s all there—structure, proportion, color, and texture. As for Folly,” she glanced around, eyes glittering, “it would appear her organizing ability is as formidable as that of my beloved niece.”
“That’s why Big Mim selected her for the job.” Harry wondered how often this would come up tonight.
“I suspect she didn’t know quite how formidable Folly’s talents are.” She knocked back the remains of her martini, eyed the glass, then smiled broadly at Dolf.
“Honey, what would you like?” Fair chose to accompany Dolf to the bar under the portico.
This location proved to be the only flaw in the plans, because people could slip into the house. The bartenders had to keep calling them back. The one person whose task was to keep people out of the house was on overload. He couldn’t wait for the supper to begin and the bar to close.
Being as tall and powerful as he was, Fair could run interference for the older, frailer gentleman.
“Tonic water with a twist of lime.”
“Champagne! Bring your bride champagne,” Aunt Tally commanded.
Strolling flute, violin, and lute players walked among the crowd, as did serving girls bearing trays of delicious tidbits.
Aunt Tally reached over as a college student, dressed in period, offered a tray. “Thank you, dear.”
Harry shook her head no. She confined herself to regular meals and tried not to snack.
“Are you going to dance the night away?” Harry smiled.
“I was hoping for more, but Dolf would probably have to lash his member to a pencil.” The nonagenarian, almost one-hundred, popped the hors d’oeuvre into her lipsticked mouth.
“Aunt Tally, you shock me.”
“No, I don’t. I was doing it before you were born. Before Mim was born. By now I should be an expert, don’t you agree?”
“Well… yes.” Harry burst out laughing.
“Where is that man with my martini?”
“Fighting the crows. Hold on.”
Carla Paulson stopped by for a moment. “Aunt Tally, you remember my husband, Jurgen?”
“So nice to see you, sir.” Aunt Tally extended her hand.
He shook it, then repeated the process with Harry.
Carla, with bracelets obscuring her arms, a huge necklace, and enormous earrings of white and black pearls with sprays of diamonds arching over them, presented a contrast to Harry, who appeared restrained. She was wearing her mother’s five-carat emerald-cut diamond ring, along with emerald-cut earrings at three carats each and a matching bracelet.
The diamonds were perfect. Harry knew exactly how to wear jewelry even though she wasn’t much interested in it. She could never have afforded her mother’s diamonds, but once upon a time, before the Great Depression, the Hepworths, Harry’s maternal family, had money.
Aunt Tally wore a diamond choker and two-carat drop diamond earrings, quite subtle but the diamonds were perfect.
In Virginia, less is more.
“Darling, you must get a safety-deposit box.” Aunt Tally smiled at Carla, who missed the point.
Fortunately, before the old girl could further sharpen her tongue, Dolf and Fair appeared.
Dolf performed the obligatory hand kiss, which made Carla titter.
Mike McElvoy passed by, Noddy on his arm. “Good evening, folks.”
“Mike.” Fair smiled at him.
Carla curled her lip, but Jurgen had the manners to wish him a good evening.
“Mike, with all your building inspections, do you ever have time to build for yourself?” Harry asked.
Noddy answered for him. “You should see his shop. Well, he calls it a shed. It’s sacred. I don’t go in there.” She tittered. “It’s where he buries the bodies.”
Mike gruffly replied with humor, “I am banished to the shed because I’ll dirty her house.”
As Mike left, Carla hissed, “I truly hope I see him roasted on a spit.”
“Now, Carla, don’t let that temper get the better of you. Redhead.” Jurgen genially explained her temper due to hair color.
As the Paulsons left to distribute themselves among the throng, Aunt Tally said, “Lucille Testicle red.”
Harry, tonic water in one hand, champagne in the other, decided the only way to survive this evening was to knock back the champagne immediately.
Fair smiled as she did so, placing her fluted glass on the tray as yet another serving girl passed by.
“Another?”