The Women of Nell Gwynne's (9 page)

Pilkins sagged onto a stool and drew a flask from his pocket.

"Are you quite all right, Mr. Pilkins?" said Mrs. Corvey.

"Well enough," said Pilkins, taking a drink and tucking the flask away.

"I only wondered because I heard you lord mayoring there, in a temper."

"None of your concern if I was."

"I reckon his lordship must be a trial to work for, sometimes," said Mrs. Corvey, in the meekest possible voice. Pilkins glared at her sidelong.

"An old family, the Rawdons. If they've got strange ways about them, it's not my place to talk about 'em with folk from outside."

"Well, I'm sure I meant no harm—" began Mrs. Corvey, as Mrs. Duncan threw the pantry door open with a crash.

"I'll see you get your notice, Ralph, you mark my words!" she cried. "I ain't staying in there with him another minute. He's a fornicating disgrace!"

"Indeed, I think he does a very creditable job." Maude's voice drifted from the depths of the pantry. Ralph emerged from the pantry smirking, followed by the ladies. Upon seeing the floating Dessert, Ralph pointed and exclaimed:

"Hi! That's what it does, is it? I been going mad wondering—"

Mrs. Duncan, noticing the Dessert's new state, gave a little scream and backed away. "Marry! He's done it again, hasn't he? That unnatural—"

"Hold your noise!" Pilkins told her.

"Whatever's the matter?" said Mrs. Corvey.

"The Dessert appears to be levitating," Lady Beatrice said.

"Oh, stuff and nonsense! I'm sure it's just a conjuror's trick," said Mrs. Corvey. Pilkins gave her a shrewd look.

"That's it, to be sure; nothing but a stage trick, as his lordship likes to impress people."

"So the Dessert isn't really floating in midair?" Jane poked one of the Cupids with a fingertip, causing it to writhe. "Just as you say; I'm only grateful we shan't kill ourselves carrying it in."

A bell rang then. Pilkins jumped to his feet. "That's his lordship signaling for the next course! Get those finger cymbals on, you lot! Where's the bloody swan?"

The swan was heaved out in its mold and upended over the cake, and a screw turned to let air into its vacuum; the swan unmolded and plopped into its place on the cake with an audible thud, sending the Cupids into quivering agonies.

"Right! Pick the damned thing up! He wants you
smiling
and, and exercising your wiles when you go out there!" cried Pilkins.

"We strive to please, sir," said Lady Beatrice, taking her place on one of the carrier poles. The Devere sisters took their places as well. They found that the Dessert lifted quite easily, for it now seemed to weigh scarcely more than a few ounces. Lady Beatrice struck up a rhythm on the finger cymbals, the Devere sisters cut a few experimental capers, and Pilkins ran before them up the stairs and so to the vast banqueting table of Basmond Hall.

"I could do with a dram of gin, after all that," said Mrs. Duncan, collapsing into her chair. "I could too," said Ralph.

"Well, you can just take yourself off to the stables!" "Perhaps you'd be so kind as to guide me to my room?" asked Mrs. Corvey. "I'm rather tired."

TEN:

In which a Proposition is Advanced

L
ORD BASMOND HAD spared no expense in the pursuit of his chosen
motif
; an oilcloth had been laid down over the flagstones and painted with a design resembling tiled mosaic on a villa floor. Hothouse palms had been carried about and placed in decorative profusion, as had an abundance of aspidistra. Five chaise-lounges had been set around the great central table on which Lady Beatrice spied the remains of the grand dishes that had preceded the Dessert from the kitchen: A roast suckling pig, a roast peacock with decorative tail, a dish of ortolans, a mullet in orange and lemon sauce.

On the chaise-lounges reclined Lord Basmond and his four guests. The gentlemen were flushed, all, with repletion. Lord Basmond, alone pale and sweating, sat up as the ladies entered and flung out an arm.

"
Now
, sirs! For your amusement, I present these lovely nymphs bearing a delectable and mysterious treat. The nymphs, being pagan spirits, have absolutely no morals whatsoever and will happily entertain your attentions in every respect. As for the other treat...you may have heard of a dish called 'Floating Island'. That is a mere metaphor. Behold the substance! Nymphs, free yourselves of your burden!"

Lady Beatrice let go her corner of the Dessert and essayed a Bacchic dance, drawing on her memories of India. She glimpsed Maude and Dora pirouetting and Jane performing something resembling a frenzied polka, finger-cymbals clanging madly. Alas, all terpsichorean efforts were going unnoticed, for the banqueters had riveted their stares on the Dessert, which drifted gently some four feet above the oilcloth. Lord Basmond, having assured himself that all was as he had intended, turned his gaze on the faces of his guests, and hungrily sought to interpret their expressions. Lady Beatrice considered them, one after the other.

Prince Nakhimov had lurched upright into a sitting position, gaping at the unexpected vision, and now began to laugh and applaud. Ali Pasha had glanced once at the Dessert, was distracted by Jane's breasts (which had emerged from the top of her chiton like rabbits bounding from a fox's den) and then, as what he had seen registered in his mind, turned his head back to the Dessert so sharply he was in danger of dislocating his neck.

Count de Mortain watched keenly and got to his feet, seemingly with the intention of going closer to the Dessert to see what the trick might be. He got as far as the end of his chaise-lounge before Dora leapt into his arms—her ribbons and securing stitches had all come unfastened, with results that had been catastrophic, were the party of another sort—and they plumped down together on the lounge. The Count applied himself to an energetic appreciation of Dora's charms, but continued to steal glances at the Dessert. Sir George Spiggott's mouth was wide in an O of surprise, his eyes round too, but there was a scowl beginning to form.

"What d'you call this, then—" he exclaimed, ending in a
whoof
as Maude jumped astride him and emulated a few of Lady Beatrice's movements.

"What do I call it?" replied Lord Basmond, in rather a theatrical voice. "A demonstration, gentlemen. Here I come to the point and purpose of your presences here. All of you are men of means and influence; you would know whether your respective governments would be interested in a discovery so momentous it may grant ultimate power to its owner."

"What do you mean?" demanded Sir George, who had got his breath back, as he peered around Maude. Lord Basmond cleared his throat and struck an attitude.

"When I was at Cambridge, gentlemen, I studied the vanished civilization of Egypt. I chanced to be taking a holiday in France when I was approached by an elderly beggar, a former member of the late emperor's army and a veteran of the Egyptian campaign. In his destitution he was obliged to offer for sale certain papyrus scrolls he had looted, from what source he was unable to recall, in the land of the pharaohs.

"I purchased the scrolls and returned with them to England. When they yielded up their secrets to translation, I was astonished to discover therein the method by which the very pyramids themselves were built! The ancient priests had developed a means of circumventing the force of gravity itself, gentlemen, and not with charms or spells but by the application of sound scientific principles! Vast blocks of stone were made to float, as light as balloons. Sadly, the scrolls were later lost in a fire, but fortunately not before I had committed their texts to memory.

"Consider the confection floating before you. Do you see any wires? Any props? You do not, because there are none. I have been able to reproduce the device used by the Egyptians, and I intend to sell my secret to the highest bidder.

"Now, consider the applications! Any nation owning my device must swiftly outpace its rivals for dominance. Think of the speed and ease in public works, when a single workman may lift slabs of stone as though they were feathers. Think of the industrial uses to which this may be put, gentlemen. And—dare I say it—the uses for national defense? Envision cannons or supply wagons that might be floated with the ease of soap bubbles and the speed of sleds. Imagine floating platforms from which enemy positions may be spied out, or even fired upon.

"And he who offers the highest bid gains this splendid advantage, gentlemen!"

"What is your reserve?" inquired Prince Nakhimov.

"Two million pounds, sir," replied Lord Basmond, as Sir George uttered an oath.

"You ought to have offered it to your own countrymen first, you swine!"

"You were invited, weren't you? If you want it, you're free to outbid the others," said Lord Basmond coolly. "But, please! I perceive the ice cream is melting. Let us enjoy our treat, and hope that its effects will sweeten your temper. Pleasure before business, gentlemen; tomorrow you will be given a tour of my laboratory and witness further astonishing demonstrations of levitation. Bidding will commence at precisely two in the afternoon. Tonight, you will enjoy my hospitality and the ministrations of these charming females. Pilkins? Serve the sweet course, please."

"At once, sir," said Pilkins, climbing onto a chair. An orgy commenced.