Mrs. Mansfield was at least a foot shorter than her husband but hardly insubstantial or hidden in his shadow. She was dressed as if for a Turkish seraglio, with silken pantaloons and shoes that curled up at the toe. The odd clothing showed her figure to fine effect. She wore a long, colorful mantle that draped to the floor and her hands were covered in bright green gloves. Her face was lost in a silken veil that completely hid her features. To top it off, she wore a sizeable turban upon which perched a large, stuffed bird, wings spread.
Simon could barely pry his gaze from the peculiar bird, which seemed to stare at him so he hardly noticed the odd couple moving closer until he heard “Simon Archer!” blaring in an American voice. “I didn’t know I’d see you here, but I’m damned glad I have. Now I have someone to talk to.” Mansfield cast his eyes about him with unguarded disdain. “Mary likes to come out every so often. And I do run into a lot of important people here, so it’s useful for me to attend. I’ve even seen Grace North out here. Now, there’s a lovely women. You know, the prime minister’s wife. Of course you know; he’s your prime minister. But in general, the people here aren’t my type of crowd though. Oh, you’re not a regular, are you? Sorry if you are.”
“Good evening, Your Excellency.” Simon bowed, covering a smirk at the man’s American bluntness. “No, this is my first time.”
“Good, good. How are you, my boy, how are you?” Mansfield shook Simon’s hand vigorously as he angled toward Kate, expecting an introduction.
“I am well, sir. Thank you. May I present—”
“Kate Anstruther.” The ambassador flashed a grin and kissed Kate’s hand. “I saw you at the Duke of Lincoln’s summer regatta but never had the fortune to speak. It’s a great honor, Miss Anstruther. Your father, Sir Roland, was an enormous hero of mine. I’ve read all about his travels and expeditions. He was a man among men. I was honored to meet him once in New Orleans many years ago. I’d welcome the chance to talk about him with you.”
“Thank you, Your Excellency.” Kate looked mildly confused. “I didn’t know my father had been to New Orleans, but he did move around quite a bit.”
“And this,” Simon continued, “is Malcolm MacFarlane.”
Mansfield, to his democratic credit, greeted Malcolm with the same enthusiasm. “MacFarlane. Scotsman, eh? I enjoy your whiskey.”
“Thank you,” Malcolm said, his mouth a thin line. “I’ll tell them.”
The ambassador laughed and turned to the outrageous shape beside him. “I have the unique opportunity to introduce my wife, Mary.”
Simon bowed deeply and reached for Mrs. Mansfield’s hand, but she didn’t move, like a statue from a harem. As he straightened, he smoothly raised the empty hand to his mouth to cover a slight cough. “Mrs. Mansfield, a great pleasure to meet you, and may I compliment you on the tasteful size of the taxidermied bird on your head?”
Her response was a bare whisper. “People have died for far less than this bird giving his life for fashion.”
Ambassador Mansfield laughed. “Yes, yes. The poor thing’s just returned from a long tour of the Continent and the Levant. Literally just off the boat a few days ago. But she wanted to come tonight. She’s quite the warhorse.”
“You must be exhausted.” Simon smiled at her faceless lace visage. “I presume.”
Mansfield crossed his arms and took up a position as if his wife was no longer present, as indeed she barely was. “Mary loves to travel. I hardly see her. I’d wager we haven’t spent five months together since we met in Egypt, what was it, Mary, four years ago?”
The woman said, “It seems longer.”
“You’ve traveled in Egypt, Your Excellency?” Kate asked the ambassador.
“Business, Miss Anstruther. I’m in cotton. Know anything about cotton, Archer?”
“No more than any other plant.”
“Well, they grow a lot of it in Egypt. Most people think the place is a barren desert, but all along the Nile River is good farmland. Ever been to Egypt?”
“No.”
“Damn place is full of old things. I bought a boatload of mummies for a few piasters and sold them to aristocrats all over Europe for a tidy profit.”
“So you’re interested in ancient Egyptian culture?”
“Not particularly. Most of the time, it’s all a bunch of pictures of men standing sideways.” Mansfield looked at his motionless wife, who cleared her throat. He stiffened, then gave the perfunctory smile to Simon that their conversation needed to end. “Well, all this diplomacy has made me thirsty.”
Simon bowed again. “Thank you for your kindness, Your Excellency, Mrs. Mansfield. Will you excuse us?”
“Sure, Archer. Let’s find time for a glass of champagne together later. Miss Anstruther, a great honor. I hope to see you again. Mr. MacFarlane, good to meet you.”
Simon led his two companions past the unusual couple. When they were acceptably buffered by a noisy cocoon of surrounding conversations, Malcolm said, “What in hell is the situation with his wife?”
“Shh.” Simon tried not to laugh. Kate did laugh and nudged the Scotsman as Simon said, “No one knows apparently. She has never shown her face in public. She remains a frustrating enigma to the society papers.”