My Marionette Lover novel · Chapter 6 of 24

Chapter 6: The Founders' Dinner

"Who are you?" I said.

The pale eyes in Arlen's face looked me over, slow and unhurried.

"Tell me, Miss Pemberton, whose hands are those?"

I looked down.

My thumb had the burn scar, my forefinger the callus from the carving knife, and both of them were shaking.

"Mine."

"No," the old woman said. "Your grandmother's."

She smiled with Arlen's mouth.

"There is a dinner for the Founders on Monday at seven in Redfern Hall. You will come. Wear something black."

Arlen blinked, and the flat look went out of his eyes.

He sagged against the rail, and I caught him.

"Did you hear that?" I said.

"I heard it from the inside," he said, in a whisper. "She was in my mouth."

On Monday evening I put on the only black dress I owned, the one from the funeral.

I walked into the great hall of Redfern Hall.

It was a long room with a ceiling of dark beams and candles in iron stands.

About sixty people stood talking in small groups, all of them older than me and all of them holding glasses.

Professors, trustees, a few donors in gray suits.

Birdie had stayed in the car with Brad, because she wasn't on any list.

I stood beside a pillar, trying not to be noticed.

Then the room went quiet, and I understood who had come in.

She was small.

I had expected her to be taller.

Augusta Redfern was seventy-two and not much bigger than my grandmother had been, with silver hair twisted tight and a gray wool suit.

A black jet brooch the shape of a spool of thread sat at her throat.

Arlen walked beside her, dressed in black, and his face was perfectly empty.

On his other side walked a girl in pale cashmere, with straight blond hair and a poised, pretty smile.

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