“Victor’s not a butler. He’s Max’s right-hand man. He runs the house, the staff, makes all the arrangements for travel and the like. While he’d never admit it, Victor is the linchpin that holds everything together. Without him, I think Max would truly be lost.”

“From what you’ve told me, I think he’d be lost without you.”

Bennett thought for a moment. “Perhaps, but I don’t plan on going anywhere other than to find some drinks and hors d’oeuvres. Shall we?”

Chapter Thirty-One

Max’s dress code made it easy for everyone to know who was who. The wait staff wore black trousers, crisp white shirts, and vibrant red cummerbunds and bow ties. The guardians were all in tuxedos and evening gowns, and the vampires wore clothing from their era.

There were Roaring Twenties flappers wearing calf-revealing, fringed dresses, and gangsters in pin-striped three-piece suits, their white ties brilliant against shirts of ebony and their fedoras dipped low in the front. Confederate soldiers and those from the Union were in attendance, as well as ladies in gigantic, hooped skirts who cleared a path wherever they sashayed. Cowboys and schoolmarms sipped champagne as they chatted with French Revolutionaries and officers who had fought in the First or Second World War. Suffragettes dressed in purple, white, or green with tri-colored sashes across their chests snacked on appetizers, and pirates with swords, statesmen with top hats, and those representing the aristocracy of centuries earlier than the twentieth were everywhere. It was a fashion smorgasbord, and Ruby was dutifully impressed.

“This is fantastic,” Ruby said, looking around. “It’s like every era is here, every century.”

“It is,” Bennett said, taking a sip of her drink. “We are quite a melting pot.”

“I can see that, and thank you so much for inviting me,” Ruby said through a dazzling smile. “This is amazing.”

“I finally found you,” Max said, stepping out of the crowd.

Both women turned to the man dressed in traditional sixteenth-century clothes. Max was wearing a long-sleeved maroon doublet over a chemise shirt with a ruffled high collar, and striped woolen hose covered his legs. On his feet were velvet slippers, and across his chest was a brown leather baldric that held a sword at his waist. Bennett was tickled when she took in the view and noticed Max had been faithful to his era, the linen codpiece firmly held in place by buttons to hide his twig and berries.

“Only you would be that authentic,” Bennett said with a snort.

“What’s the fun in dressing up if you can’t go commando?”

Bennett snorted out another laugh and placed her hand on Ruby’s back. “Max, I’d like you to meet my date for the evening, Ruby Miller. Ruby, this is our host, Maximillian Lumley.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Ruby said, feeling as if she needed to curtsy. “Your house is beautiful.”