Malice at the Palace (The Royal Spyness Series Book 9)
By: Rhys Bowen
Marina smiled. “She means medicine to help you sleep, Traudi. I have some Veronal if you need some. I always carry it when I travel because it’s hard to sleep in strange houses, isn’t it?”
“Thank you, but like Irmtraut I try not to take those things,” I replied. “It makes me rather groggy in the mornings.” I was watching Irmtraut’s face. Was she looking away on purpose?
“So what would you like to do today, Marina?” I asked.
“You promised to take me shopping,” she said. “Let’s start with Harrods, shall we?”
“Absolutely. If the car can find its way there in this fog.”
She looked out of the window. “Goodness, it is quite dense, isn’t it?” she said, then added, “There’s a car pulling up outside now. Is it for us, do you think?”
I went over to look, worried it might be more policemen, which would certainly alarm the others or at least make them suspicious. But instead Marina said happily, “Oh, it’s George. How lovely.”
And Prince George himself headed for the front door. The knock was answered promptly, I noticed, and a rather flustered maid came in to announce, “His Royal Highness, the Duke of Kent.”
George came striding into the room looking remarkably jaunty and debonair. “Well, that’s what I call a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “The Three Graces.”
“You should have warned us you were coming, George,” Marina said. “We are not yet dressed to receive visitors.”
“Ah, but I’m not really a visitor. I’m a husband-to-be and will soon be gazing upon you in your night attire. Besides, you look absolutely charming.” He went over and kissed her cheek. “I’ve come to whisk you away, my dear. I’m meeting the decorator at the house and I thought you’d want to see his suggestions for wallpaper before he puts it on the walls.”
“Oh yes, of course.” Marina looked pleased. “But we can’t take too long. Georgiana and I have a shopping spree planned for my trousseau.”
“Ah well, we can’t get in the way of your buying dainty little things, can we. Just make sure they can be taken off easily.” He gave her a wicked grin.
There was an intake of breath from Irmtraut, and Marina said, “George, we’re at the breakfast table, with young ladies present.”
“Sorry, old thing.” He didn’t look particularly sorry. “Didn’t mean to offend. I promise not to keep you from your shopping too long.”
“You must let me finish my breakfast first and then go and change. I’m not appearing in public unless I’m looking my best. Too many cameras around.”
“Yes, you have become the darling of the press, haven’t you?” George said. “I’m pleased they’ve taken to you so well. The public is glad that at least one prince is doing the right thing. And my brother is glad because it’s taking the spotlight off him. So come on. Eat up and off we go.”
“And I’ll go and round up my friend,” I said, rising from my seat. “The one who knows all the best places to shop in London.”
“Splendid.” Marina smiled at me. “We’ll meet back here at eleven, shall we?”
“And I? What am I to do?” Irmtraut asked.
“Oh, you can come shopping with us, of course,” Marina said as if she’d only just remembered that Irmtraut was in the room with us.
“Shopping is of no interest to me. I do not have money for clothes,” Irmtraut said.
“Then you could go and feed the swans in the Serpentine,” George said. “Or take out a rowing boat.”
Irmtraut looked at him as if he was an imbecile. “In case you have not noticed, there is thick fog. I do not wish to walk through the park in thick fog. I might lose my way or bump into undesirable persons.”
“I always find it quite fun bumping into undesirable persons,” George said, with the hint of a wink to me.
Marina looked out of the window. “The fog is lifting a little. Is that your motorcar outside or do we need to summon a car?”
“No, that’s my old banger,” George said.
“A banger—is that not an exploding sausage?” Irmtraut asked and I’m afraid we all laughed.
I HURRIED UPSTAIRS to put on my coat and hat, because I realized what a great opportunity I had. Prince George’s car was actually outside the front door, and it was foggy so I wasn’t likely to be seen. I slipped out into the cold, damp air. The black shape of the Bentley loomed in front of me. I started to inspect it, walking around it carefully. I was bending to examine the front mud guard when a voice asked, “Can I help you, miss?”
I jumped up guiltily to see a chauffeur standing over me. Oh golly, I hadn’t thought Prince George would have his chauffeur with him.