Chapter Twenty-Four
The attics of the family castle in Gloucestershire were cavernous, the sort of attics one could get lost in for days. The attics of the townhouse in Hanover Square were much smaller and surprisingly bare. There were a number of trunks and hatboxes, two old mirrors, a couple of paintings under Holland covers, and a stack of chairs that were no longer fashionable. Quintus went unerringly to the trunk containing the costume. It was in the farthest corner, behind the chairs, the mirrors, and the paintings. “Looks as if someone was trying to hide it,” Sextus observed.
Octavius thought so, too.
They unfastened the buckles and lifted the lid. A choking scent of camphor rose from the trunk. Ned gave a loud hoot of delight. “Not moth-eaten!”
The trunk was full to the brim. O
